#it took so long to figure out how to spell exertion

[paradoxical-machine]

Trying to figure out why I'm nauseous is far more difficult than it should be. Is it my chronic nausea? Or motion sickness from vr? Maybe I ate something that's upsetting my stomach? Or is it my period? Maybe my stomach meds are loosing their effectiveness? Or did I drink water too quickly? Maybe it was the physical exertion?

Could be any of these reasons

[iironwreath]

Fair [Cihro]

[218-219]

Brunch wasn’t the only thing on Cihro’s docket for his date with Raidak. If they had the whole afternoon to themselves, he would use every minute he could. With so much of his time demanded by world-saving only paused by sleep, he understood the value of every second. 

They had taken to strolling the streets after eating, but it didn’t take Cihro long to turn to Raidak. “Wanna race?” 

Raidak met him with a competitive gleam in his eyes. “Where?”

Cihro pointed. “The western gates.”

“Flying, I presume?”

“You know it.”

Without warning or countdown, Cihro shot off. Raidak gave a startled bark and ran after him briefly on foot, then lifted off half a second after. It wasn’t fair—Cihro had the jump on most people besides Hope—but it was all in good fun. 

Westruun whipped by too quickly to admire. With a proper skyport, having a bird’s eye view of the city wouldn’t be a novelty for long. Between the Yuminor Observatory and Greystone Tower, looking down on the city was mostly reserved for the scholars and spellcasters and the skyships that passed overhead.

It wasn’t a short sprint—the race took about five minutes even at top speed. Cihro knew the city better than Raidak, but he realized early on he didn’t stand a chance. Raidak could’ve left him in the dust, but he had the decency to humour him by pretending to match his speed. Not enough to lose on purpose—in the last five hundred feet, Raidak vanished in a flare of green magic and reappeared on the city ramparts.

The guards posted along the wall jumped and spun their crossbows on Raidak, lowering them when they registered who it was. Cihro closed in half a minute later, waving them off.

Cihro preserved his dignity by landing with grace and not stumbling to a halt. He wasn’t winded, exactly—he wouldn’t have been able to sprint that long on foot so well, but he’d exerted himself by channeling his speed through the winged boots.

“No fair,” Cihro said. He grinned, though—how could he be mad, with how Raidak preened at the win? 

“You never laid out any rules,” Raidak pointed out. “You forfeit fairness the second you took off.”

“I don’t put much stock in rules, I figured one of us would break ‘em. I’m just glad you didn’t start casting spells at me.”

“Is there a prize for first place?”

“The satisfaction of beating Westruun’s uncatchable crime lord. Oh, and this.” Cihro flipped him off. Raidak laughed. “I knew I couldn’t win, especially if you were a dragon, so I had to take my advantage where I could.”

“I don’t think I’ll be flying over Westruun as a dragon anytime soon,” Raidak said, casting a mournful expression over the city rolled out behind them. 

“Yeah, best not to.” Cihro also gave Westruun a lingering look. Beyond the eastern walls, crops laid trampled and razed by Tiamat’s cult. A path of buildings, even the intermittent towers, were chipped and missing chunks of themselves, mapping a trail of destruction. It would be a while before any dragons were welcome or tolerated in the skies no matter their intent. 

Westruun wouldn’t forget anytime soon. It was for Raidak’s protection as much as the city’s peace of mind. 

Cihro turned his attention to the Bramblewood. Its boughs thickened with spring, melding into the mountains that sloped then speared into the sky. The seasons would cycle, the moons would wax and wane, and Westruun would rebuild and nurture its crops back to health. 

“Wanna fly further?” Cihro asked. “No race, just flying.”

“Where to this time?”

“The mountains.”

Raidak considered, stroking his chin.

“We’re a bit all over the place, so I think it’s fine,” Cihro assured. “So long as we’re in pairs. If there’s an emergency, you can teleport us back.”

“You do realize what a powerful spell that is, don’t you?”

“Sure I do. I’ve been with the Thorns since the beginning, I know how long it took the others to learn it. But an emergency is good cause to use a powerful spell, right?”

“True enough. Lead the way.”

Cihro floated off the wall, Raidak gliding leisurely after him. It took them longer to reach the mountainside at a relaxed speed, and they flew in and settled like a pair of birds. Cihro swung his legs over a ledge and patted the empty space beside him. Raidak joined him, hands coming to rest above his knees.

The distance from Westruun helped conceal some of its wounds. It looked more itself, even if they knew better. It was more whole than broken. Cihro breathed a sigh, not realizing his shoulders had clung onto some tension. Raidak did the same in his peripheral. His hands left his legs and settled flat onto the ground by his hips.

Cihro brushed his pinky against the side of Raidak’s hand. Raidak glanced first at their hands, eyebrows up, then at Cihro’s face. 

“Can I hold your hand?” Cihro asked, stroking again, so Raidak couldn’t confuse it for an accident.

Raidak nodded. Cihro slipped his fingers under Raidak’s hand and transferred it to his lap, knuckles up. It was his right hand, the scales the deep red of hot coals ready to ignite. The scales were more concentrated on the back of his hand—Cihro traced them lightly, the edges where they met skin and where they overlapped each other. They vanished under his sleeve, no doubt climbing his arms. Cihro wondered how much skin they covered—he’d never seen Raidak wearing robes that that didn't end at the wrist.

Raidak’s arm, sheathed in form-fitting black armour, was one of the first parts of him Cihro had seen. His face, shaded by a hooded cloak, had mostly been chin and a sneer. Even though all they’d done was sit next to each other as spectators, Cihro had felt a frisson of fear. Power and magic had always enveloped him. He had the power not just to enact change through his magic, but by his tenacity, ambition, and at the time, greed. 

These were hands that had originally unnerved Cihro, belonging to someone working for the opposing side. Hands that had toiled away at the experiments fighting in Cinder’s arena—the same experiments that had likely been used as part of the siege on Westruun. Raidak was constantly inflicted with his former work terrorizing the people he now swore to protect. The ramifications of his actions—his legacy—weren't just immediate, but lasting, at least until the Thorns snuffed them out.

Cihro didn't think of Raidak’s hands that way anymore, but it must have been a challenge for him. Cihro had lived the consequences of his own actions, albeit on a smaller, more intimate scale. The bigger they grew, the larger their footprints.

Cihro tried not to think in balancing scales. If they all tried to keep perfect harmony between those they harmed and those they helped, they’d lose their damn minds. What benefitted one person could have condemned another. They could only do what they needed to survive and what they thought was right, even if it turned out to be wrong later. Some wrongs could be righted, others had to be worked at. The Gilded Thorns could share their thoughts with each other and come to a collective decision to minimize damage. Raidak had been in a cult—effectively isolated even if he was part of a group. He hadn’t had good people to hold him accountable like Cihro had. 

Cihro didn’t know if he considered himself good and moral, but he had at least learned that being good was a job never finished. The churning tapestry of the world would always have its imbalances and injustices. Raidak might not have been able to permanently undo the damage, but he was actively fighting. His hands belonged on their side—they ferried them around, they healed Orla, they helped depose Arkhan, they helped keep a mask away from the cult for as long as possible. 

Hands that belong linked with his.

“I wanted to apologize,” Cihro said, ending the comfortable silence. Raidak had, predictably, turned a new shade of pink while Cihro held his hand. Cihro smiled, rubbing his thumb along the length of each finger one at a time, feeling each bone and crease and nail, hoping the touch wouldn't distract from what he was saying. “I didn’t mean anything by being crass earlier. I had to ask because ‘companionship’ can have a lot of double meanings. When you go to an inn and ask for companionship it usually means you’re asking for somebody to have sex with.”

Raidak huffed a laugh. “See, I wouldn’t know these things.”

“I’m not trying to take advantage of you or anything. I wasn’t asking because I wanted to—I mean I would like to eventually—but I’m not trying to rush you into it.”

“I trust that you’re not. I know you well enough to know when you’re sincere. You’ve become equally good at showing your feelings as you are at hiding them.”

“I've learned when to shut it off,” Cihro agreed. “You can’t blame me for enjoying flustering a dragon, though.”

“I’ll try not to make it so easy, but it’ll take some practice.” 

“You’re a quick study.”

Raidak shuffled closer so their knees skimmed one another. “Thank you for today. I’m…glad I got to experience a date.”

The end of his sentence was hidden, written invisibly: glad he got to experience a date before the potential end. 

Cihro’s smile was all warmth; he laced their fingers together and squeezed. “My pleasure—thanks for suggesting it. I’m glad you got to experience it, too. You make a good date.”

[toa-arania]

Val's blind spot

Well, really that should be blind spots, but she thinks she only has the one.

Valerie Wester is not a very trusting person. Even people she considers to be her friends she is wary of to varying degrees between "You can make things inconvenient for me" and "You can instantly kill me on a whim". She tends towards overconfidence, but most of the time that is tempered by her paranoia. She is genuinely very intelligent, but can have trouble responding to unexpected situations. She is aware of this, and can usually play defence very well using a combination of quick thinking and an air of aloofness, so long as she is sufficiently paranoid of everything around her and sufficiently confindent in her ability to find a solution. When one of these things is deactivated, problems arise. We last saw this when a drug she made switched off her deductive reasoning, leaving her incapable of responding to the situation. This time, we're going to see what happens when her paranoia fails to kick in.

A little background. After the drugs night, Levi (werewolf himbo) realised that he was losing himself more to Khorne, a god of war and bloodshed that had taken residence in his mind, and took a page out of Val's book by coming up with a contingency plan involving Aluber (clown fairy). Aluber, thanks to a gift from the Fae King, has the ability to create magically-binding Unbreakable Vows that cause you to instantly die if you break them. This is one of many reasons that Val is fucking terrified of Aluber, although not actually the main one, which is his access to an Antimagic Chain spell that Val is acutely aware will kill her if it is used on her. Levi reasoned that a good way to prevent himself being completely taken over by Khorne is to make an Unbreakable Vow to not hurt a specific group of people, so that if he does so he will die and be unable to kill them. Aluber and Levi were attempting to enact this plan in secret.

As part of them figuring out ways to deal with Khorne, they got Val to help by casting Binding on Levi, a hex that prevents the target being able to harm people. They wanted to test how instantly Khorne responded to violence if Levi gets hit, and whether Val's magic could seal the response. Val cast this hex, and then used some of her other magic to go into Levi's mind (something Val has made a habit of now). Inside his mind was as Val expected, except for the ankle-deep layer of blood and the fractured layer of red magic that Val recognised as coming from Wesley, another witch that gave Levi a protective amulet. We tested what happened when Levi gets punched, and Val learnt a lot about the way Khorne interacts with him - specifically that the witches are basically the only thing holding him back. It is at this point that I remind you they have not told Val about the Unbreakable Vow plan because they have (admittedly correctly) assumed she would try to stop it.

Later that day, they attempted the spell on their own. As they tried to make the vow, red magic came from Levi that they assumed to be Khorne attempting to block the spell. Aluber, with the assistance of the Fae King, pushed his magic past it, shattering the red magic. Without Val there to recognise it as Wesley's, they had no idea that they were destroying Levi's primary layer of protection. Aluber passed out from the exertion, and Khorne took over Levi's body. Val's Binding spell was now the only thing left preventing him from harming anyone and causing the Unbreakable Vow to kill Levi. A spell that Levi had already requested should be short enough to wear off by football practice that afternoon. Khorne-Levi picked up Aluber's unconscious body and brought it to Val, claiming that he tried some fae bullshit on him that he managed to shake off.

Val has two blind spots. One of them is Wesley, who Val has known for a long time. They're good friends, even though they mostly act independently and often fuck with each other, and Val genuinely cares for him. She is aware that he is a weakness of hers, and tries to account for it semi-successfully. What Val has not yet fully realised is her second blind spot: Levi. So when she asked if the fae fuckery (suspecting antimagic) had affected the protective amulet and "Levi" said no, she believed him without trying to check for herself. After examining Aluber and working out that he'd tried to channel some of the Fae King's power, underestimating the strain it would put on him, she concluded that he had tried to attack Levi. All the evidence was there: Aluber being unconscious from magical overexertion; evidence of his spellcasting on Levi; Aluber's history of instability - even a lack of apparent effect on Levi made sense due the werewolves' natural resistance to magic.

Val took Aluber and told "Levi" to pretend everything was normal, and here I'm going to briefly break from the relatively serious tone of the post because what happened next was genuinely unhinged. Val had written down the formula for the Mystery Drug (which turned out to relax the inhibitions on supernatural powers) while she was making it, and since last time Aluber had some he became tiny, she tried to make him tiny with it again so she could put him in a box somewhere secret. It did not work. He ended up 10ft tall. She could not move him. Her cousin, a shapeshifter, came to see what was up, and Val asked for help moving Aluber. He decided to help by turning into a forklift, and the two of them loaded Aluber into a corpse flower. Val kept his head exposed so she could try to go into his mind, but the Fae King blocked her access, and while distracted by her cousin working out how to play megalovania with his horn she forgot to cover Aluber's head again, so he was later able to just teleport away when he woke up.

Val went to go and find Levi, who was also coming to find her and ask her to undo the spell Aluber had placed on him. Val had already been working on ways to undo fae magic because of her own concerns about Aluber, and told him that she'd need a while to figure it out, probably a few days. By this point, football practice was nearing and Binding had worn off, and as Khorne-Levi grabbed her by the shoulders to tell her to get on it fast, Val realised her mistake.

Val is frail. She is very aware of her weakness, in both a physical and supernatural sense. She isn't capable of standing up to most things in a direct confrontation, which is why she prefers to take a more meticulous, indirect route to problem-solving. Her need for control comes from her knowledge of how weak she is. Witch magic may be more versatile than any other type, but in terms of raw power it simply can't compete with that of the Fae or Angels, and definitely isn't much use in a fight. If it came to a fight between her and Levi, she would have one shot to nail a Binding before he simply snaps her neck, and because of her trust in Levi she had allowed herself to get into a position where she wouldn't even have that shot. However, Levi's core drive is the need to protect his friends. With Khorne using his body to put Val in danger, he was able to wrest control back, quite possibly saving both of their lives. Logically, Val knows that Khorne wouldn't have killed the one person he thinks could probably unpick whatever Aluber did to Levi, but the outcome of allowing herself to endanger her life like that is the same.

Val has told herself that she won't let that blind spot get exploited again. Val has not realised the extent of it. She's aware she's into Levi on a surface level (to be fair he is hot) but hasn't yet realised how much he affects her. I don't know how yet, but that blind spot is absolutely still exploitable and at some point it is going to go severely badly for her.

[dracomalfoysslave]

Sweet and Sour Chapter 2.

Summary: Things between you and Draco take a drastic and spicy turn in the days before your study date.

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin FemReader (TW 18+ smut hinting/teasing, insults)

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Song: bad ones- Tate McRae

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Divination, your last class of the day (which Draco had dropped out of years ago unfortunately) goes by in a blur; you can't remember anything besides Professor Trelawney looking into one of her orbs and gasping loudly, then hobbling over to you with a bright red blush to whisper in your ear that friday will be a day of great luck for you - and to remember to cast the contraception spell.

Class ended 20 minutes ago, and you have since barracaded yourself in the bathroom, wishing desperately that you were in another house so that you could eat in peace, away from Draco; right now you don't think you can stomach anything with guilt gnawing at you, and slightly aroused.

Wondering what Draco is doing right now; if somehow he is nervous too, a loud rumble from your stomach alerts you that you can't wait any longer.

* * *

Dinner is just as bad as you feared; Draco sits almost directly across from you, sensually sucking and licking his fork, lapping up the juices of his meal, then shooting you slightly amused, devilish stares.

Avoiding his gazes, being forced to stare straight down at your plate, you stumble into wondering how long it took him to get soft after you left him in the field this afternoon; cleaning your wet panties in the bathroom before Divination - while resisting the urge to run your itching fingers across yourself - was utter agony.

Quite a while has passed before the Slytherin table begins to clear and Draco gets up, leaving you one of the only people left. Sighing in relief, your shoulders begin to loosen at last; maybe now you will be able to eat something in peace.

Something hard and hot suddenly presses into your back, as Draco reaches across the table from behind you to put something back.

Your heart pounds in your ears. Soft blonde hair brushes aginst your cheek, and his warm lips hover right over your ear. "I'm going to destroy you," he whispers coarsely.

Immediately your insides respond, coiling again; you grip tightly to the bottom of your skirt, squeezing your toes.

Draco presses his erection harder into your back, pretending to arrange the utensils across from you.

"I won't be able to sleep tonight because of you, and I will repay you for it," he seethes.

Turning in haste, looking over your shoulder, your blood freezes, finding him nose to nose with you.

He leans into your ear, pressing his hot lips to it through your hair. "This very load," he rolls his hips, "is going to be inside of you."

Shifting in front of you, in a swift move he presses his lips right onto yours. At the warmth of his mouth, a jolt slices through your pussy; his lips are enticing, soft and gentle - you keep perfectly still, relishing how it seems to light you from the inside while his touch lingers for seconds.

With a soft crackle he pulls away, and swiftly heads off towards the exit as quickly as he came, without looking back; his hard on stays safely hidden under his robes.

Staring after his back, you can't rip your eyes away, raptly watching his angelic locks as they bob with his swagger; for the first time you notice how much you like the way he walks, brutishly, exerting command with every step. Goosebumps ripple up your back, prickling across your breasts.

As his figure disappears out the doorway, your senses give a rev, jarring you back to the soft chatters in the room. Realizing with a mixture of shame and horror that he just kissed you in front of everyone, you hope to Merlin the remaining students were not looking.

* * *

The next couple of days are filled with Draco taunting you more than he ever has. Unable to tear away his gaze from you in the corridors, he has been flicking his tongue out at you, wiggling it sensually whenever he can, not even caring if anyone's around, to your horror. People have been staring at you like you have food on your face lately, and no doubt they have seen you the object of Malfoy, the attention whore. You know its only a matter of time before people start asking questions - if they aren't already.

Besides just about stalking you, Draco has hopped over the back of couch in the common room to sit next to you, threatening you sexually under his breath, and he has flown you countless notes in class.

Your embarrassment, however, didn't stop you from saving all his notes. His notes did something to you that you could allow yourself to feel, since he himself was not around.

You lay on your bed reading one now:

You slut. Button your shirt up.

The notes this week were explicit, and you'd die to think what would happen if one of the teachers caught them; you open another one of your favorites:

I know you like it when I tease you, you little bitch. Getting wet reading this, are you?

And he was right. You read the note from today:

I woke up so hard because of you. Just think of my cock aching all day in my trousers...I can hardly focus on anything. It's your fault, and you will pay.

Shivering, you fold up the notes and slide them back inside your dresser. You had no idea if Draco actually liked you or if he was just horny, but the excitement you felt from his recent attention made it impossible for you to continue incessant denial of your feelings. But you did not dare make a move; he was still the awful Malfoy who tormented your Gryffindor friends and blackmailed you into fucking him; how could you call this man your friend?

* * *

Thursday night is colder than usual. The sky above the dining hall is clear and scattered with stars; the full moon looms in a corner of the ceiling.

Stiffly - in fact you can't sit any stiffer - you sit next to the sweet smelling Slytherin Prince. He was already there when you arrived, and when you carefully sat down on the other end of the table, he immediately got up and slid in next to you, with that familiar devilish grin. As much as you hated to admit it, it made you happy, so happy.

The blue light of the moon shimmers down his golden-white hair, and flickers across his low lidded eyes. He sits far too close to you, having slowly inched closer until your thighs touched; now your shoulders brush with every move.

In a moment of loss to your internal battle, while his head is down you turn to him, hurriedly taking him in; he looks like he belongs in the night sky, a fallen angel…who's gray eyes look up, too quick to turn from, locking with yours.

It's like he could smell you looking at him; paralyzed like a deer in the headlights, you stare at him in a fearful daze.

Warmth spreads through you as his clammy hand grasps yours under the table; his nervous sweating flatters you. Swept up in the moment, and blaming it on his touch, you squeeze his hand back.

Draco snickers quietly, alluding to "What will you do now?"

Nonchalantly leaning toward him, a smirk creeps across your lips; a moment of weakness would never stop you from playing the game, and playing it well.

"Draco, you're in love with me, aren't you..." you confirm in a soft, serpentine hush.

"You wish I was," he snorts, haughtily throwing his head, tossing his locks.

"You were so glad when I finally came up to you, weren't you? So delighted to have me begging for your mercy," you whisper sweetly, dripping with venom. "I know you've always wanted me, Draco."

Draco's face goes red, contorting with outrage, nostrils flaring; no one talks to Malfoy like this. You know its a risk, but you feel safe doing it because the risk of him not wanting to bury his cock inside of you for it seems slim. You actually have somewhat of the upper hand, compared to having nothing to hold against him like before.

Long moments pass, and his reaction is not lessening; just as you start to wonder if maybe you have gone too far, he speaks.

"If you don't run before the hall clears out, I will fuck you right here on the table, since you want it so badly," he says hotly. His pupils are dilated through the sleek blonde bangs parted over his eyes.

"Can't hold out another day?" You cock your head to the side, with an innocent, puzzled expression.

A vein pulses in his forehead. "You're the little bitch who's trying to rile me up a day too early." He smirks lecherously.

"Not because you started this, of course." Grinning, you enjoy having gotten under his skin.

Draco's hand tightens on yours; digging his index and middle finger into the underside of your palm, he locks eyes with you and begins to rub in rapid circles.

Awe strikes you, prickling at your skin; he has struck a pace tantalizingly similar to the one you use on yourself. You bite the inside of your cheek, attempting to keep your straight face.

"I'll only warn you once more, darling," he seethes close to your mouth, allowing you to smell the sweet desserts arayed in his breath. "You better not leave me alone here with you."

"And when I do that, you better show me that you're a big boy who can hold back," you retort shrewdly, proud and impressed with yourself for your wit in the heat of the moment.

"Bitch," he hisses with a snarl, before leaning back in his seat, yet hunching over the table in that all-too familiar way that men try to hide the buldges in their pants.

Draco grabs his goblet and takes a swig of tart lemonade, sighing a bit loudly, letting a few drops drip down his lips onto his chin.

Swelling with desire, your breasts singe hotly inside your shirt, aching to be squeezed. Obstanatly, you give him credit for that; he looks fucking sexy, and that's probably the look he gets after eating someone out.

His low lidded eyes peer over from beside you in anticipation of your reaction; you stamp on his foot hard under the table, and he stifles a pained groan.

Silence rapidly spills out around you as the hall begins to clear.

Draco chuckls, eyes gleeming as he watches you stay firmly planted in your seat, slowly nibbling a cookie as if you are the last person in the world.

"Staying, are you? What a slut," he mumbles in mock sorrow.

"Dying to get something out of me early, because you haven't jerked off in a few days? Impatient little boy," you say pityingly; your whisper comes out a little more loudly than you intended because there are no voices left in the room besides your own.

Letting go of your hand, Draco slips it onto your thigh. He uses his other hand to hastily grab onto your tie and pull it, jerking you forward to him. Staring at his face up close, you admire his him as he gazes at you; his cheekbones, chin, lips, everything that you usually try to ignore. He's the most beautiful boy you have ever seen, hardly human with that precious face. Instinctively, you squeeze your legs together.

"Let's see who can last longer, little bitch," he seethes in your face, with haughty narrowed eyes, his pupils huge in desire.

"You're on." Swinging one of your legs over the bench, straddling it, your swollen clit presses against the wood, your damp panties already seeping into it.

Not a moment later you lean in impulsively, taking hold of his shirt collar, and gently pressing your lips on his.

A muffled moan reverberates from Draco onto your lips, breaking the kiss apart with a little pop. Then he presses back in, mouthing slowly against you; he cups his lips around yours, brushing the sensitive sides of your bottom lobe, sending you into shivers.

Pulling your tie, Draco tugs you in closer, smashing your clit against the bench. His delicate kisses stealthily increase; beginning to suckle your bottom lobe, recapturing it, flicking out his hot tongue between your lips.

You taste the sugary lemonade remnants mixed with the sweets you had shared. Saliva strings between you, dripping down your chins.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, ecstasy spiralling through your core, as every part of you betrays your animosity and dedicates to drinking his lush lips. Noses nudging, your burning cheeks brush each other with the sway of your heads.

Draco's heavy, hot breaths steam out his nostrils, and your pantings fill his mouth. The acoustics of the hall amplify his deeper groans and your breathy gasps, which thunder louder in your ears, increasing the danger of being caught.

Reluctantly, Draco seems to realize the same thing; his movements grow stiffer as he listens closely to catch the sound of any approaching footsteps.

"I - stop…" he sputters suddenly, pushing a hand to your chest, causing you to lose your grip on his shirt.

"I hear something-" messily, he pulls away, stringing warm saliva a foot between you.

His face is the reddest you have ever seen it, agonized with blissful anguish; he jiggles his legs anxiously against the bench, wiping his swollen red mouth off on his sleeve.

Besides thinking he looks awfully cute, you are too distracted to dwell on how shocked you are that the presumed fuckboy of Hogwarts was so excited by a kiss - not that you weren't; the wet patch on the bench under your skirt says enough.

A fearful look slowly spreads across your face; reality is crawling back fast. Dissipointment and anger at yourself begin to settle in your gut. How could you do this? How could you let yourself get so careless? You're not getting anything in return for making out with him; this didn't have to happen!

"Heard that too?" asks Draco, hurridly pulling his robes away from his stomach, shielding the protruding lump in his pants, and wielding around in the direction of distant footsteps.

All is forgotten for the moment; both of you clamber up from the table, the voices of Mcgonagall and Snape becoming audible.

With A shared look of terror, in silent agreement you sprint together as quietly as you can out of the hall. Draco pulls your hand, narrowly turning the corner and just missing the two teachers as they enter the Great Hall, their robes billowing behind them.

Dashing through the twisting halls, you scarcely avoide colliding into the walls that jutt out with every turn. Flying up the stairs after Draco, with burning lungs you reach the landing; he spits out the password and the portrait swings open. Scurrying after him through the hole in the wall, you glance in dismay around the emerald room which bustles with people.

Looking to Draco, his eyes signal in annoyance that there won't be a chance to say anything more in privacy tonight; the silver snake-encrusted grandfather clock reads five minutes to ten, which means Snape will be arriving in a few minutes for room checks. Of course you wouldn't - you couldn't if you wanted to - sneak off to Draco's room with him, because of the crowd.

"Y/n," Draco shouts over the hubbub, a disgruntled smirk appearing on his face. "Goodnight then," he says firmly, with an edge of distaste, spinning on his heel and walking off to the boys dormitory where his prefects room is.

Standing amongst a swarm of Slytherins, you are left wanting more, much more than this night permitted, wishing desperately that Draco had stayed longer, until the clock chimed; long enough for you to say something back to him, or at least just to be...in his presence longer. Lifting your hand idly to your chest, you feel the lack of him in a pang of ringing emptiness.

You thought it had not even been a minute, yet the clock strikes you out of your thoughts. Had you really been frozen in place since he left? You ponder this while heading swiftly off towards the girls dorm.

Hours later lying in bed, you are kept awake by butterflies flitting about in your stomach and sparks flickering through your pussy; that makeout session was the hottest one you ever had; you could not believe that it was from Draco...you don't know whether its from anticipation or excitement, because you look forward to the next day as much as you are dreading it.

Digging your fingers into your pillow, you roll over, clenching your thighs shut; you can't resist squeezing them together a bit while you replay the events of the night in your head. Besides your "no fap" deal with Draco, you are secretly looking forward to having a more intense orgasm with him, and relish the past few days of built up need.

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: Midnight in the Desert 1/1

Title: Midnight in the Desert

Summary: Coffee + tiny bladder + long motorcycle ride = the best sex of your life

Rating: Smut, fluff, fun sexy times. My usual fare, you know what’s up. 

Pairing: Captain ‘Sy’ Syverson x YOU (AU)

Companion piece to The Road to Paloma  

‘I have to pee!’ 

You leaned against Syverson’s broad back and shouted at him above the roar of the bike’s engine. 

He turned his cheek against the wind. 

‘What?!’ he shouted back. ‘Again?? We just stopped an hour ago.’ 

‘I got a tiny bladder!’ you laughed as he decreased the bike speed. 

It was easier to talk now that the warm night air had stopped whipping away your words. You nuzzled fondly against his shoulder and eased your hands down over his belt buckle. 

‘There ain’t a place for miles,’ he said and lay his hand over your hands. ‘Can you hold it?’

You thought a moment and although that second cup of truckstop hazelnut coffee was a surprising delight to the senses, it was a mistake currently wreaking havoc on your bladder. 

‘I cannot. Nope, not in the least,’ you replied and left it up to your problem solving husband to figure it out.  

Up ahead on that long black stretch of barren backcountry Arizona road stood a high-mast sodium light which cast a broad oval of yellowy illumination across the road.  Syverson slowed the bike even more and drew close to the tall wood pole. You peered up at the ring of industrial bulbs and then down at the shadowy dirt area just at the rim of bright light. 

When he shut off the engine the world plunged into a kind of silence that only an evening on an empty road in the middle of a desert could create. Nothing but crickets, and the occasional nocturnal animal cry. You liked it. 

Syverson kicked the bike onto the stand and let the machine ease to one side. He got off it and turned to face you as he thumbed through his mobile. 

‘No signal,’ he grumped and then pointed to the saddle bag near your thigh. ‘Get out the map. Let’s take a look.’ 

You did as you were told. He always kept a big book of state maps in the bag for when the online maps failed. You paged through it, landed on the appropriate state and after a quick skimming search, you put a finger on a thin jagged red line. 

‘Highway 373,’ he said, looking down the length of your finger and rubbing his hand over his beard. ‘Yeah, see? Town’s at least another 60 miles.’

With your finger still on the map, you looked up at him and pouted. Syverson smiled fondly and used the tip of his index finger to push up your helmet visor so that he could see your eyes. He stroked the edge of his thumb back and forth against your cheek. 

‘Sure you can’t hold it?’ he asked in a tone that said come on baby you can do it.

But you shook your head and unstrapped your helmet. He removed his own in response. Might as well get comfortable.  

Handing yours to him, you rummaged about in your rucksack and made a noise of triumph when your fingers closed about a small plastic baggie. You pulled it out and held it up. 

One of the most valuable tips that you learned from women who were constantly on the road was that a ‘fuddy’ or a female urination device was a godsend and a life saver.  

Yours was pink. 

‘Looks like your girl is gonna have to make do,’ you said and groaned as your bladder protested the exertion when he helped you climb off of the bike. 

‘Awright,’ he said.  ‘Don’t accidentally piss on anything that I’m gonna have to fight, okay?’

‘Always my knight in shining armour, Sy,’ you called over your shoulder walking to the edge where the darkness met the light. 

He laughed and sat with his rear against the seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

‘Just do it where I can see you,’ he said. 

You stepped across that hard bright line and into the pale darkness.  

It seemed cooler there for some reason and you strained to look into the distance. The moon had gone in behind grey streaky clouds and backlit the jagged mountain range in the distance. You glanced back at the man leaning against the bike. He was still aware and watching and that comforted you. 

Always your protector.

Unzipping your loose heavy canvas trousers, you pressed the rubbery funnel into place and relieved yourself into the dirt. 

As the pressure subsided, your mood lifted and the thought of maybe another coffee didn’t sound so bad. Drying yourself and the funnel with a little bogroll, you tucked everything back into the baggie, righted your clothes and returned to the bike. 

Syverson’s keen gaze skimmed over you. 

‘Better?’ he teased.

You stored your bag into the rucksack  and stood back to look fully at him. 

‘You’re turning into a grizzly, you know that?’ you asked fondly, reaching up to run your fingers over his beard and then up over his jaw and to the back of his neck. 

‘I thought you liked me like this,’ he replied in his easy joking manner. 

He caught his thick facial hair between his thumb and forefinger and gave himself  a thoughtful stroke. You smiled and reached up to gently caress the back of his well shaped head with both hands. His eyes softened immediately and a knowing look crept into his warm gaze. 

‘What are you tryin’ to do?’ he asked. 

There was that soft, gentle laughter in his voice that you loved so much. It was the sound that had come to mean that he was settling in to play your game.  

You caught the corner of your lower lip between your teeth and looking away you lifted one shoulder in a shrug. 

‘What?’ you asked innocently, ‘I’m not doing anything.’ 

Syverson hooked his thumbs into the side belt loops of your trousers. He drew you closer but when you resisted he shot you a quizzical expression.

No play? asked that expression. 

He looked nearly betrayed that you would deny him access to the trouble he so dearly wanted to get into. He wanted to get into you.  

You moved a few steps away and when you held his full and undivided attention, you unzipped your trousers. With an insolent pause to gauge his reaction, which was immediate and intense, you shimmied, let them drop and then stepped out of them.  You wore his long tee shirt, and when the trousers dropped, the hem of it fell against your bare upper thighs, covering you. 

Syverson made a low, greedy noise in his throat. He grabbed you by the waist and in a smooth motion, he straddled the bike’s seat, and swung you effortlessly into the air before planting you firmly astride his lap with a solid thump.

You felt him move against you as he shifted in the seat and the tough material stretched taut across his muscular thighs scraped along the tender flesh of your inner thighs. A pleasurable shiver rushed through you and you put your hands flat on his heaving chest. Sy wet his lips and looked up at you. There was want and heat and desire in his blue eyes and your lips curved into a delighted smirk. 

This man, this beast of a man was yours and yours alone to do with whatever you pleased. 

‘I’ve never met a woman who was so exciting,’ he groaned, voice quiet, as if he didn’t want to break the spell you’d woven over him. 

You took the compliment in stride. Leaning in, you opened his mouth with your tongue and slid your hand down to his belt buckle. When you drew back, he looked down the length of torso and watched in breathless panting silence as you unbuckled his trousers and eased out his stiffening cock. You glanced at him, noting the colour rising high in his cheeks as he shuddered, put his head back and moaned. 

He slid up the lower edge of your tee shirt and massaged your bottom rhythmically, eagerly as you stroked him once, then again, curving your fingers around his thick girth and teasing his glistening head with your thumb. 

‘Yeah, baby. Good girl. Just like that,’ he groaned. ‘Oh, yeah, you know what I like.’ 

You warmed with the pleasure at being praised by him.

And gleefully, you twisted your slick fist and he arched, and tightened his grip on your hips. 

‘C’mon baby, c’mon… you’re teasing me.’ 

I love to tease you baby, I love how you respond to me. 

With his big hands supporting you,  you rose to your knees opening yourself to him and you whispered his name when he undulated and pushed up into your sweet quivering heat. 

As usual, you were unprepared for him, unprepared for the size of him. But you relaxed, closed your eyes, and clenched when his cock slowly stretched you to fit him. 

Between his competent, loving hands, Syverson held you still and lifted his face so that you could kiss him, softly, gently, as if the two of you were hidden away in your bedroom, and not fucking like unrestrained lusty beasts by the side of a silent desert highway. 

Sy thrust up hard into you, laying claim to you from the inside and an unnamed feral fire seared through you. You arched, sucked in a breath and your intentions of keeping quiet were obliterated. The throaty cry that erupted from you started but did not shame you. 

A roll of your hips elicited the same response from him and you hissed with pain when he dug his fingers into your vulnerable flesh. But he soothed you with warm honeyed kisses and the promise of ever increasing delights. You clenched your thighs about him and Sy encouraged you to ride him harder and faster until you couldn’t withstand the plunging shudder that rocked you. Safe in the strength of his embrace, you surrendered to him, clutched at him and shuddered through the white-hot scalding gush of lust and molten fire through your veins. 

Syverson held you against him until you finally stilled and draped yourself over him to cover his face with kisses. 

After cleaning up and dressing, you settled yourself behind him again, wrapped your arms about his waist and rested your cheek against his shoulder. You gasped when the engine roared to life as the sudden vibrations shook you intimately and the sensations made you smile. 

‘You ready?’ he asked, breaking you out of your muse. 

You squeezed him. 

‘Ready.’

A hotel room, a hot shower and another round were in order along with some downtime to rest. There was a secondary reason why you had to pee so much. Your husband was going to be a father.

-the end, you naughty little things. I love you ;D

Tag list:  @lightsidecalling​  @omgkatinka​ @igotkatiepowers​ @the-soot-sprite​  @harrysthiccthighss​ @little-green-love​ @foxyjwls007​  @angreav​ @maizyistrash @liquorlaughslove @supernaturallymarvellous​ @whiskey-cokenstuff @laketaj24​ @october505​ @inlovewithhisblueeyes​ @foodieforthoughts​ @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @singeramg​ @sapphirescrolls​  @emyearns​ @brandycranby​ @zealoushound​ @eldarwen333​ @beck07990​ @lunedelorient​ @henrythickcavill​ @kalesrebellion​​ @angrythingstarlight​​ @lavitabella87

[wh6res]

127 SQUAD AND ROMANTIC BF TINGS

tw a lil bit of suggestive on jae's but nothing explicit

✰ — TAEIL would sing lullabies over the phone or video call. you and him would just be doing your own thing, not talking but enjoying being each other's presence. he'll probably pull out his guitar and start singing random songs until he eventually notices you fell asleep on him. will not end the call and when you wake up in the morning, his snores and his cute sleeping face is the first thing you see. "love? you still there? ... taeil?" then laugh out loud when you hear his snores instead. "okay yeah lets sleep more" the call will only end probably because his phone died. he kinda strikes me as a guy who's phone is always < 50% battery lmao

✰ — JOHNNY is your everything. literally. as long as he has the power of youtube, google, and instruction manuals on his side, he can fix anything and everything for you. we've all seen him do crafty things on jcc lmao so it'll probably apply to relationships as well. will 100% say you now owe him cuddles for fixing something for you. you kinda dont like the fact that he's doing all these things for you so you try doing them on your own without him knowing only to fail big time. "what did we learn today?" "never touch the pipes under the sink" "and?" "and always ask johnny for help" "nuh-uh thats not how i said it" you sigh exasperatedly "always let my smokin hot amazing handsome boyfriend johnny suh get the job done"

✰ — TAEYONG doesn't care whether you take the time shopping or not. in fact, he loves seeing you all excited and giddy for pampering yourself as you should. totally the type to hold the paper bags even if you complain and say you can manage on your own. is a complete angel and will wait patiently outside changing rooms and will give you genuine insight he has of the clothes you picked. "that looks nice. you should get that. the length is just right and the sleeves help accentuate your waist" "really yongie?" "yes love. i mean you look pretty in everything anyway" miss ma'am my heart just fucking melted ?¿?

✰ — YUTA doesn't look like it but will exert real effort into things. would be the type to have a note or a google doc about your favorite orders from restaurants because he just loves how your eyes light up appreciatively and you look so smitten by him. its like a cheat sheet. eventually he memorizes the list with how much time he spends with you and he wont even need it. the type to always bring you food before meeting you (if its just hanging out inside the house). "no way! i was just craving for these!" he smiles before kissing your forehead, volunteering to put the food out its container for you. "i figured. you'd been working since this afternoon. lets eat first then you can tell me about what you've been working on so i can help you, okay?"

✰ — DOYOUNG loves cooking for you. i highkey feel like its his love language? like cooking for you and seeing your eyes light up as it darts back to him after you take your first bite from whatever he cooked just gives him so much happiness. its disgustingly sappy and he doesn't like talking about it. now he understood fully what it meant to see your loved ones eating and being full yourself or some shit. idk how the actual quote goes okay dont come 4 me but u probably get it. anyway the type to always pack you lunch and will get hella mad if you skip meals. "what do you mean you havent eaten yet?" "yeah but i will after i--" "you mean you're going to eat Now?" "what? no maybe later--" "thats it im coming over"

✰ — JAEHYUN would be the type to make you playlists. its really random sometimes he'll send them to you in the early morning for the heck of it bc he cant sleep. most of the time its him being horny lmao the frat boy in him awakening and sending you a playlist called imma blow your back out or something extremely cringey and thirsty pls dont block his sorry ass maybe he'd spell out the words using song titles too! idk jae just rlly strikes me as a guy who's love language is music. "hey babe did you check the playlist i sent you?" "wtf its 4am???" "oh so you havent listened to it yet?" "fuck off" but at the end of the day he'll come over and will use the playlist to,,, you know,,, do the sexy thing ;)

✰ — JUNGWOO always makes sure you walk on the inside of the road. you know when you're walking in the street and he softly nudges your waist? yes. will probably even scold you playfully because with how long its been since you both are together, "babe you always walk on the inside of the road how many times do i have to tell you?" is also the type to remind you to wear your seatbelt immediately after hopping onto his car. would ask you Again while in the middle of the car ride because he forgot that he already asked you earlier. please don't mind him he's just looking out for you bb. "seatbelt?" "yes, babe. already done" "are you sure? i dont think i heard it click--" "babe eyes on the road please" "oh right sorry"

✰ — MARK sends you tiktoks, vines, or memes. this is his love language fite me im calling it. he just wants to see you laugh too okay? thats why he does it. i mean it made him laugh, so maybe it will you laugh too. also because he hopes to make inside jokes with u cuz he believes thats how people really get close and stuff. would definitely love it if you do the same thing with him. you'd be chilling in the sofa while khalid plays on the bluetooth speaker and he'll suddenly go "babe babe babe check this out!" then you both proceed to laugh at a vine for the next thirty minutes <3 #living.the.yn.life

✰ — HAECHAN will do your skincare for you when you're drunk or super tired that you just passed out cold on the bed. would probably come into the room to see you snoring and tutting bc now he has to do it for you again but meh deep down he loves it because he enjoys admiring your sleeping face. its sorta like a healing thing for him? yeah it just washes away all the stress he's feeling and bb is just excited about the idea that this becomes "your thing" with him if u get what im saying? altho the next day he'll probably use it as a leverage to get out of chores :) "no way im not folding our clothes" "and why is that?" "i took your make up off yesterday u know how hard that is? im still tired" "but its literally the next day--" "awww thank you for doing my chores, baby! u the best!" ._.

[rose7420]

Art Games

Request from @laurenandloki

When Y/n is an admirer of Loki's and falls ill. It's up to him to save her.

Y/n was dying. She was used to it.

Living with an incurable disease and standing at two and a half inches tall meant that you were practically screwed in healthcare. Her life wasn’t miserable though as you might think. Her momma was her best friend and took care of her to the best of her ability. She was there on the good days where they could scavenge the walls and explore to their heart’s content. But she was also there for the bad days where her heart couldn’t pump enough blood leaving her weak and stranded in her bed.

Today was a good day for Y/n as she crept through the pathways of her walls to reach a hole. She climbed out of the wall and walked silently onto the desk. Sitting there was none other than Loki. His black hair hung down from his face, blue-green eyes scrunched in focus as he stared down at the game he played.

Y/n had found the activity odd as she had watched him time and time again. Now, she was intrigued. Each little piece connected to the others to form a masterpiece of art. Each time he finished one of these ‘art games’ he would hang them on his wall using magic. Her eyes had bugged out of her head the first time she’d watched him. Green enveloped the finished piece of art and kept itself together as it plastered itself to the wall. She always loved to see the accomplished look on Loki’s face, like he was proud of himself.

He tucked a strand of dark hair behind his ear as he fiddled with a piece of the art game between his fingertips. Y/n sat quietly down behind the cup of pencils, effectively blocking herself from Loki’s view. She squinted to see what piece Loki held and then tried to figure out where it went on his board. Her eyes roamed the already set pieces before finding the correct spot. She had to stop herself from standing and going to help Loki out.

Momma forbid her from ever revealing herself to him. She knew of her whereabouts when she ventured off these nights; only allowing her to go as long as she promised to keep hidden. And Y/n did just that. Loki rubbed his eyes wearily before she watched him rise to his great, intimidating height. Just the sight of him standing so tall reminded Y/n of why borrowers kept to themselves and never approached humans.

After stretching his long arms and legs he walked away and settled himself into his bed. A click turned the lights out and left Y/n in darkness. Y/n stood and made to climb back into her hole but a sudden urge stopped her. A burst of courage surged through her and she turned and sprinted to the piece Loki had given up on. She gathered the unique shape in her arms and walked to the spot she knew it went. Kneeling, she set the place to the right spot and relished the satisfying feeling as it slid into place. Her heart was bursting with accomplishment and happiness as she walked away.

However, when she got home and pulled back the curtain they used as a door her body began to feel weak. Her heart felt fast and slow all at the same time. Her lungs demanded more oxygen that she couldn't supply and blood that her heart couldn't deliver. She didn’t make it another step as she crumpled to her knees.

“Honey?” She faintly heard Momma call. Footsteps rushed towards her and her vision blurred as she tried to peer up at Momma's knelt figure and worried face. The last thing she felt was the shaking hand upon her clammy forehead.

Loki looked down at his puzzle in confusion. He swore that piece wasn’t there yesterday. He could only chuckle as he realized his little admirer had helped him out. He plucked another piece up and set to work. Minutes later his sensitive hearing picked up on hurried footsteps and rapid breathing. One set of footsteps and two sets of breathing. One fast and the other slow. His eyes slid to the hole he knew was in his wall and stared in confusion and awe as a positively tiny lady emerged breathless carrying an even smaller unmoving girl.

He squinted to see them better. He didn’t recognize the woman but the girl…

It was his little friend.

The mother; he presumed, took tired and cautious steps towards him. He straightened in his seat, unintentionally making his shadow swallow both little forms whole.

“Please… you must help me. She’s sick… and dying.” The woman sobbed.

Loki nodded and held out a hand. The mom approached and laid her daughter down on the row of fingers. Before the mother could step on he raised the tiny girl to his eyes.

Her complexion was pale with sickness, and he felt the clamminess of her skin upon his own. And her breathing… it was so shallow and infrequent that he prayed the little one wasn’t too far gone.

“W-wait! What are you doing to my baby girl?” The mother cried from below. Loki broke from his trance to offer her a comforting look, he lowered his face so that it was somewhat level to the mother. He could see the dark circles of her eyes, and the paleness of her own face.

“I assure you, miss, that I only want to help. Can you tell me what’s wrong with her?” She did, making sure that Loki knew she had a heart condition.

“She will die? Even if I can save her now?” He said with a shaky voice looking down at her in his palm. How small and fragile she looked there. `

Her mother nodded.

“She admires you, you know?” The mother says.

Loki looks up confused. “Why on earth would she admire someone like me?” He asks.

“She’s interested in those puzzles you do… see’s that you’re smart. Her dad left us when she was only a babe. I’m glad she has a male figure to look up to in her life.”

Loki couldn't accept that this little one had just barely started her life and soon it was about to end. He thought hard, back to the spells his mother had taught him as a child. She was an achieved healer and knew much about the properties of mending wounds and fixing illnesses. Perhaps he could do the same for the dying life in his palm. His mother’s magic had always been a buttery yellow, kind and generous to anyone who needed it.

Loki’s was cunning and sharp. Meant to inflict harm rather than stop it. He gathered all those lessons in healing he could remember and set to fixing her heart.

Y/n awoke slowly. Her eyes blinked open trying to clear the blurriness away. And when they did she screamed.

She found two blue-green eyes staring right down at her.

“Momma!” She cried frantically looking for her mother. She had been caught by Loki, a giant. The gigantic fingers around her curled in effectively trapping her. Her heart was rapid and she feared she’d pass out from the exertion. But before she started freaking out too much the giant had laid his hand down onto the table and flattened his palm.

Without thinking she scrambled off, tripping from the height. She fell into a pair of sturdy, soft arms.

“Momma!” She said relieved.

Momma wrapped her arms around her and kissed the top of her head, then her cheeks. She hugged her so tightly that Y/n couldn't breathe anymore.

A gust of air tossed her hair.

Y/n turned around to face the giant...Loki again. His chin rested on the desk, closer than ever before. She buried herself into Momma’s side.

“It’s okay...He’s a nice giant. He helped you feel better. He saved you.”

Y/n looked at the giant man again, questioning.

“You saved me?” She asked.

He nodded and offered a warm smile.

“Tell him thank you Y/n,” Momma said firmly and gently at the same time. A tone only mothers could master. Since Momma trusted Loki, it made Y/n a little less nervous.

“Thank you, mister.” She said shyly and walked to his face watching him go cross-eyed to see her better. She giggled and hugged his nose.

“It was my pleasure Little Miss,” Loki said softly.

Loki grinned from the sudden embrace. He kept his voice low, afraid of hurting these tiny people’s ears. After learning that Y/n admired him and didn’t have a father he had unwittingly adapted to being sort of a father figure to her. Perhaps he could show her there was good in this world. He watched as Y/n retreated and latched herself to her mother’s side again.

“You can come out you know,” Loki said with a grin on his face. He had spied Y/n lurking in her usual spot behind the pencil container. He had always kept it filled for her, making sure she felt comfortable enough even if she didn’t want to reveal herself.

He watched as she stepped out and looked up at him, a red tinge on her cheeks.

“I’m having trouble figuring out where this piece goes… I need your help.” He held out the tiny puzzle piece to her. She hesitantly approached his fingers and he nodded to encourage her. She took it in both arms, heaving it up. In a matter of seconds, she had ambled over to where the piece belonged and set to place it properly.

“It seems having a different perspective helps.” Loki admired it out loud. He imagined that up here, the puzzle was just well… a puzzle. But to her, it must’ve been an entire landscape, a world of its own. No wonder why she was so skilled.

“So you like puzzles?” Loki asked.

She looked up at him confused.

“Whats a puzzle?”

Loki quirked an eyebrow and leaned in closer.

“What we’re doing… what do you call it?”

“An art game.” She said crossing her small arms.

He laughed and threw his hands in the air, surrendering before they could get into an argument.

“So you like art-games?” He corrected.

She smiled and nodded.

“Good. Because I have plenty more. Perhaps you would like to help me?”

And he swore that in his many years, he had never seen the sun shine brighter than that giddy, joyful smile he received.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Water Is Our Thing

Pairing: Bang Chan x female reader

Genre: fluff

World: The Water Guy

Warnings: stripping down to underwear

Prompt: “I love the ocean.” - #14 of Idea Starters

A/N: Finally, a sequel to my first Chan story I wrote. I really loved that world and have always meant to return to it. I hope those who enjoyed the first story can enjoy this also.

Word count: 2292

“The Water Guy, huh?”

Glancing up at your roommate’s teasing, you shifted your phone out of Eunhee’s view and got up from your bed you had been lounging on. “His name is Chan.”

“Is that who you’ve been messaging day in and out with since the party?”

You didn’t deny it, though you also didn’t answer verbally. As much as you adored Eunhee, you were still a little frustrated with her behaviour from that night.

Had you not gone to the party, nor sat down in the corner of it after feeling ridiculed for your love of water, perhaps you wouldn’t have met Chan there.

You were grateful for that.

Equally, you weren’t prepared to give her too many details just yet. Whilst you had a good time at the party with Chan, and subsequently held many engaging conversations over messenger, it was all starting to feel a little too good to be true.

“So when will you meet with Chan next?” Eunhee enquired, and you shrugged. Diving onto the spot you had been sprawled out on, Eunhee’s eyes grew round. “You haven’t sorted out a date yet?”

“We’re just chatting, Eunhee.”

“Chatting doesn’t lead to kissing,” she proclaimed, and you rolled your eyes, slipping your phone into your pocket and headed out to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.

Eunhee followed, taking it out of your hand before you could open it. You spun around to face her.  “Hey!”

“Why not use the excuse of the bottle of water to get some time with him?”

You rolled your eyes. “I highly doubt he needs to meet with me just for me to buy him another bottle of water. Besides, I was the one to give Chan one first. And he’s already replaced that.”

“So?! Keep the water exchange going. I don’t remember an awful lot from that night, but I know whenever I looked in your direction, you were smiling brightly and laughing all the time. You don’t get that kind of opportunity often, Y/N.”

“There’s no rush,” you answered, taking the bottle from Eunhee’s hand and headed back into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

Glancing at the bottle of water in your hand, you then placed it down on your desk before reaching into your pocket for your phone. Staring at the two objects, you sighed.

The truth was you felt too nervous to ask Chan to meet up. Although the conversation flowed easily between you, you had somehow convinced yourself that the flirtation was just friendly banter instead.

Chan was generous with his kindness, and you had had enough time between the party and now to convince yourself the feelings you had that night might be construed from interest to friendship.

Having Chan as a friend would be a great thing too. Even if you harboured feelings for him already.

Hearing the messenger notification go off, you unlocked your phone and looked at the screen.

So what are you up to today? Do you want to meet up?

It seemed that Chan was making the first step to figuring out what this was between you.

“I’m glad you came out today,” Chan mentioned with an easy smile, and you reciprocated it, nodding once.

“I’m actually glad too.”

“Beats being at home studying, right?” You shrugged, and Chan whistled lowly. “Oh, so you’d rather a book’s company than mine?”

Giggling, you didn’t answer, simply walked along the boardwalk towards the restaurant you had agreed to have dinner at. Chan shifted in front of you, walking backwards whilst he grinned at you. You frowned. “Why are you doing that?”

“I’m just looking.”

“You’re going to end up falling over!”

“Nah, I’ve got good balance,” he commented, still staring at you. It unsettled your heartbeat, now thumping erratically in your chest.

Chan seemed satisfied after a moment more and swung back around, falling into step beside you.

Dinner was easy. The conversation, the sharing of meals, everything seemed to be effortless, much as it had been at the party. You continued the playful banter that had been established the first time you met, and by the time dessert arrived on the table, your sides ached from all the genuine laughter you had shared.

It wasn’t until it was time to go and pay for the meals that you got nervous. Pulling out your purse, you began calculating your share of the meal out loud. Inwardly, you were observing Chan’s reaction.

Would he swoop in and cover your amount? Then you could confirm this was a date and not just friends meeting up.

However, this also was an outdated thought. You could pay for your meal and still be on a date. Modern dating was more equal across the board, and you nodded to yourself, producing your card from your purse and stepped forward to pay.

Chan seemed thrown by the action but didn’t say anything either.

“Dinner was lovely,” you offered as you walked back down the boardwalk towards the car park.

“The night is still young, though, right?” Chan suggested and quickly pointed to the beach. “Shall we take a walk?”

“Sure! I have a brownie I need to digest,” you replied with a laugh, and Chan nudged you.

“It was pretty good.”

“You should know. You ate half of mine.”

“How was my sundae then?” he asked with a grin, and you laughed.

“Creamy.”

The chatter continued as Chan helped you down some rocks until you were on the dunes, a sudden imbalance toppling you into his side. Gripping onto his shirt so you didn’t fall completely, you felt his arms encircle your waist to support you.

“Easy there,” he breathed, and you were thankful the moon wasn’t bright in the sky tonight, hoping the flame of embarrassment wasn’t too obvious.

You thought he would step aside once you were upright, but a hand seemed to linger at your side, sometimes touching the small of your back or guiding you by the elbow away from the debris in the sand that wasn’t visible until you were almost on top of it.

Feeling more at ease with his touch and your heart finally stabilising over it all, you smiled up at Chan. “This is a date, right?”

“Took you long enough to ask,” he answered bemusedly, letting out an elongated breath after. “Is it?”

“I want it to be.”

“Why did you doubt that it was? I mean, I don’t let just anyone eat my sundae.”

You smirked. “That’s handy to know.”

“I liked you from the moment I sat down next to you at the party,” Chan confessed, and you gazed out at the sea whilst you silently rejoiced the reciprocation of feelings. “Maybe you put a spell over me.”

“The water was mixed with a love potion,” you agreed with a laugh, and Chan clutched at his heart dramatically.

“This is leading to love?! Oh no, all I wanted was some water.”

“Well, there’s plenty out there.” You gestured to the ocean, and Chan grinned, tugging you towards the wet sand.

Shrieking and trying to get away, you managed to hold up the shoes you had removed along the way and your skirt’s hem from the waves rolling in.

Looking around you both, Chan then chucked his sneakers up onto the dry sand. You questioned the behaviour until he started to unbutton his shirt. Discarding your own shoes, you then dashed to his side, eyes round. “What are you doing?!”

“You offered up the ocean. Aren’t you keen? I love the water.”

Frazzled, you nodded and then shook your head. “I love the ocean too, but I’m not about to just get undressed right here and… and-”

“Why not? We’re the only ones here. You do have underwear on, right?”

“What if I don’t?” you challenged, trying not to outwardly stare at his exposed chest.

He definitely was a swimmer, you deduced from the brief look you took at his defined torso.

Chan chuckled. “Well, I’m in for a treat then.”

“Are we seriously doing this?” you asked as Chan’s hands dropped to his pants.

Looking at you, he shrugged. “Why not?”

“Fine,” you concluded, reaching for the belt around your waist on the skirt.

You focused on removing your layers instead of looking in Chan’s direction, and you felt the same respect given to you. He lingered until you were ready, and once your outer layers were off, you dashed towards the sea, running into it and wading out until the water was up to your ribs. Chan caught up with you then, and you playfully flicked water at him, a gasp leaving him at the impromptu attack.

Flinging water back at forth at one another, you played for a few minutes before a wave gently rolled you closer to Chan.

And then a surge of passion crashed down on you both. Kissing him with demand with your bodies now flush, you were instantly overwhelmed. The salty kissing, the hot and cold temperature of the water and your bodies mixing was a sensory overload. You only parted long enough to catch your breath before you wound your hands up into his hair and enclosed the gap between your lips again, drowning with the lust enveloping you.

Chan’s grip tightened, holding you to him, not ready to let you wash back to shore as the waves rolled over you.

Eventually, the embrace softened, merely staring back at one another as your chests heaved with the exertion of what just happened. Chan tenderly hooked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I like the ocean a whole lot more now.”

“Water is our thing, huh?”

“Don’t say that to me with where my mind is right now,” he warned with a chuckle. You cocked your head to the side in confusion, and he adorably reached out to peck your lips before explaining. “I want a few more dates with you before I bring a shower into this.”

“Chan!” you cried and slapped his upper arm, laughing all the same.

You could understand his thought process. The physical attraction surging throughout you right now quite easily imagined how things could progress between you.

But you were equally grateful that he wanted several more dates before getting to that level of intimacy.

“Should we go see if I’ve got some towels in my car?”

You rolled your eyes. “We should have checked before coming out here.”

“Damp clothes aren’t the worst thing, are they?” he wondered, and you shook your head, taking the hand he held out to you to head back up to the beachfront.

Although his hands had run up and down your curves in the water, once on land, Chan was polite enough to put his back to you as you tugged your clothes over your wet skin. And once dressed, you shared a shy giggle and linked hands again, walking back up to the car park.

Towels were found, though with your clothes now back on, it wasn’t so much for drying but for warmth. Wrapping you up in one, Chan then pulled you into him, rubbing his hands up and down your back to help you out. Glancing out from your towel burrito, you stretched to place a kiss on his jawline, ceasing his action.

“I had fun.”

“I hope so.”

“Why is it so easy between us?” you asked, and Chan became thoughtful, his gaze soon shifting back to the sea.

“Maybe water is our thing,” he announced, and before you could tease him about it, he continued. “We’re able to connect like we do because we’re made of the same stuff.”

“Well, the human body is made up of around sixty-percent of water.”

Chan gave you a dry look. “I was trying to be inspirational.”

“I heard you, loud and clear,” you assured, nuzzling into him. “So, what’s our next water date going to be?”

“You mean I’m going to get you out of your clothes again?” he taunted, and you sighed heavily. “I’m kidding. Maybe we can go visit a pool?”

“Or a lake.”

“A waterfall sounds nice.”

“So does a shower right about now,” you cheekily threw out there, and Chan cursed under his breath.

“I think you should go home and have a shower to warm up again.”

“You too.”

“And then we’ll have to plan our next outing,” Chan added, and you smiled happily.

“It doesn’t have to just be with water.”

“I know,” he told you, kissing you softly. “But for now, water is our thing. And I don’t want to let this opportunity wash away.”

“I see what you did there.”

“I could share more puns.”

“I’m looking forward to hearing all of them.”

“Because you’re anchored to me?” he suggested, and you groaned. Chan laughed. “Too much?”

“I’m really glad I had that bottle of water at that party.”

“Can I make a confession?” Chan stared at you for a moment, a smile slowly creeping upon his lips. “I didn’t approach you because you had water.”

“What?”

“There was a tap in the kitchen. I could have gotten a drink from there,” he explained, and you wondered why that never dawned on you. Chan moistened his lips. “I uh, came over because I wanted to know who you were.”

“Wow.”

Delighted, you soaked in the statement and then tilted your head to the side again. “And now that you know a little more about me, are you happy that you came over?”

“I’ll let you know once we’ve graduated to showering together,” he wickedly answered.

Instead of laughing at his playfulness, you merely grinned. “We’ll see how the next water date goes first. Who knows if we’ll even make it to that shower.”

_________________

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[dzamie-oc]

05 - Space

Space prompt, eh? A good a time as ever for some hammer-space dragon! Featuring Sylvia, the loveliest little gold dragoness in the Dragonslayer Guild Hall.

Length: 2200 words Rating: M (noncon vore. Not sexual, but it’s still noncon and vore) Summary: Victoria, a dragonslayer in training, learns an unforgettable lesson about how hammerspace dragons work, and perhaps about assuming mundane explanations around fantastical creatures.

Minors DNI with this particular story. I am hella uncomfortable with the idea of y’all openly interacting with vore.

-----

“Hey, Sylvia, any chance I could borrow a gold coin? Need to test the magical affinity of this thing to some elements, and gold’ll do just fine,” the cheetah asked the little golden dragon perched on his shoulder. “Y’know, before I permanently affix the actual part.”

“Yeah, gimme a second. Hand, please.”

Behind them, Victoria watched the pair work - or, well, she watched Dzamie work, while Sylvia mostly just watched him from closer. She had initially stopped by to ask the katul about one of his swordwork lessons, but he seemed busy, so she was fine waiting... for ten minutes longer, maybe. A bit more if she thought she’d get to cuddle the adorable little dragoness. Yes, time and time again, Dzamie himself had repeated that every dragon can kill an incautious slayer, and it was almost always in reference to Sylvia, but the woman found it hard to take it seriously. Not that she’d ever say it aloud. Even if it turned out not to be true, Sylvia seemed to take pride in her rumored “danger,” and Victoria liked the little lady too much to rain on her parade.

A loud hiss filled the air, then Dzamie waved a gold coin in his hand back and forth, steam rising up from his paw and the coin. “What’s he doing that does that?” the human asked herself, aloud.

Dzamie, however, was the one to respond, without looking up. “Oh, fire spells come easy to me, so I use ‘em to quickly dry off stuff Sylvia gives me. Gives the workshop a certain smell, but it’s not really enough drool to bother humans.” His voice dropped to a mutter as he looked over his work, then nodded and spoke up again. “Yeah, that’ll work. But, yeah, if you ever catch me after a swim, I do the same thing to myself - just, with a silencing spell when there’s people around.”

Having been unofficially invited into the conversation, Victoria walked closer. The katul was working on what looked an awful lot like a gun from a video game. “Huh, forgot you did cosplay,” she remarked, “and, wait, why would what she gave you be wet?”

Two pairs of eyes swung to look at her, one tiny and yellow, one more her size and, well, also yellow, but with a purple aura around them that soon cleared. “I trust him to return items from my hoard,” Sylvia said, “and, naturally, anything I don’t bag up for protection gets wet.”

Victoria looked around, trying to find where the little dragoness might have put a hoard that she could somehow reach from Dzamie’s shoulder, to no avail. Luckily for her, Sylvia easily read the human’s face, smiled, swished her tail, and said, “Hmm, tell you what. You’re nice enough to me, good enough pets and all that.”

“Oh, is she the other one who’s been giving you strawberries?” Dzamie asked. He was looking back at the prop again, where a finger wreathed in green fire poked at a floating spell circle of the same color.

Sylvia huffed. “Anyway! Would you like to see my hoard, Victoria?” The golden dragoness sat up as tall as she could to deliver her next line, “just be aware that if you try to steal from me, your life is forfeit.”

Any tiny, intimidating effect she might have had was immediately discarded as her furry, feline perch moved his arm and sent her tumbling onto the table. In spite of herself, Victoria laughed. “Sorry, sorry!” she said, “it’s just, the timing. I would love to see your hoard, Sylvia. Assuming it’s not just that coin. Uh, no offense, you’re just, well, you-sized.”

Dzamie interrupted again, muttering “alright, let’s see if this doesn’t explode this time” as he picked up his project in one hand. “And Victoria, pop quiz! Zero percent of your grade. What species of dragon is this adorable golden derg?”

“Don’t call me a derg.”

“Adorable golden dragon,” the cheetah amended. The device in his hand whirred and glowed with his green magic, and successfully failed to explode, at which he gave a satisfied “heh.”

Victoria leaned against one of the other tables, trying to recall. “She’s a... hammer-something. Not hammerhead, hammer... hammerspace!” she said with a confident smile.

Dzamie nodded. “Fantacular. Just making sure you might know what you’re in for.” He turned to Sylvia. “I’m gonna go test this out proper. Back in a few.”

The dragoness on the table walked over to the edge and sat down, facing Victoria. “Okay, then, just set your sword... somewhere and give me your hands.” As she did so, unsheathing the weapon and laying it flat, Sylvia continued, “I never figured out whether it’s easier for you if I go slow or fast, but I like slow, so I’m gonna go slow.”

“Oh, and you’ll want to ditch the rest of your armor,” Dzamie added, gesturing to her with the toy gun, “trust me on this, it’s uncomfortable and then you just have to clean it unnecessarily.”

Victoria glared at him. “Sure, Teach, let me just strip down right in front of a male katul all alone in this room.”

Dzamie passed his prop to his other hand, then held up his fingers as he counted off, “okay, one, Sylvia’s here with us; two, just because I fit the stereotype doesn’t mean you should use it; and three-” he lifted his project, “- the only reason I’m coming back here in the next half hour is if this thing explodes on teleport. ...which you better not,” he muttered at the prop. Then, with a snap of his fingers, he was gone.

For a solid minute, Victoria stared at the spot he’d vanished, almost daring him to teleport back in. Sylvia coughed to get her attention. “He’s not wrong, though. I don’t know about armor maintenance, but usually people prefer to be in comfortable clothes.” The little dragoness turned her head away and flicked her tail back and forth. “If, uh, if they wear any, but people like that are few and far between. Look, it is pretty cramped on the way to my hoard, but I’d be an awful friend if I insisted you get rid of things that aren’t weapons.”

“Things that aren’t weapons?”

The golden dragon gave her a flat look. “Can you really blame me, a dragon, for not trusting dragonslayers with weapons?”

“Fair point.” Victoria sighed. After a moment more of internal debate, she started to remove her armor. She asked Sylvia for some help, and before long, she stood before the hammerspace dragon in a sports bra and athletic shorts, glad that her friend was a dragon and not a katul, or a human.

Sylvia looked her up and down; Victoria jokingly asked if she thought she was hiding knives or something. “I... already checked, actually. Just thought dragonslayers wore something more underneath. Laundry day?”

The human grimaced. “It’s done, just... I wasn’t thinking earlier. Er, so, hands?”

“Hands!”

Victoria tentatively held her hands out in front of Sylvia, who pressed them together with her little paws. She brought her muzzle right next to the woman’s fingers, then looked up and said, “just so you know, I’m not letting you back down from this.” Before Victoria could ask what she meant by that, the dragoness opened her jaws and lunged forward.

She could hardly believe her eyes. Her arms looked just fine all the way down to her wrists, but there... they simply weren’t. Sylvia’s snout started, and her arms stopped. Her hands were surrounded by something warm, squishy, and wet, and when she tried to move them or pull them apart, they were pressed back in on each other. Then, a wave of pressure rolled down the hidden hands, and Victoria watched as more of her forearms also shared her hands’ plight. She wiggled her hands more, but there was no change. It took a few seconds for her mind to finally piece it all together: Sylvia was eating her. Somehow.

Another swallow pulled her elbows in, locking her arms out straight. In the back of her head, Victoria knew that she really ought to be panicking, that being eaten by a dragon was something she should not be going calmly into. But still, even as she bent over to the table, leaning down towards the dragon’s tiny body, it was hard to really take it seriously. After all, if she turned her head, she could see that not one of Sylvia’s scales were out of place, so CLEARLY the tiny dragon couldn’t be swallowing her.

A moment later, and she no longer had that problem. Her head was buried deep in somewhere dark pink, surrounded by hot, wet flesh, and any time she moved her arms or twisted her head, all she heard was wet “shlrk”s and squishes as she was guided back into position. The dragoness’s next swallow came more quickly, as though anticipating the human’s reaction:

Now that her eyes were no longer trying to tell her she wasn’t being eaten, Victoria came to the obvious conclusion: her friend had betrayed her trust for a meal. However, she found that she wasn’t scared, or terrified. Be it her own natural inclinations, or her, admittedly incomplete, training as a dragonslayer, Victoria instead found rage. With a primal yell, she twisted and turned, thrashing her arms to try to choke or even gag Sylvia, and she kicked one knee up, trying to feel her way into slamming into the tiny trickster. Unfortunately, the next thing she felt was her knee pinned against her belly, joining the rest of her upper body in the tight, slimy tunnel. Dragon drool got in her mouth, so she spat and sputtered as her hips, shorts, and other thigh were engulfed by the irrationally long throat. Between the heat, the steady, almost soothing noises of wet throatflesh squishing against her skin, the humid, heavy air, and simple exertion, Victoria soon found the fight slip away from her. Ankle-deep in what she thought was a very small dragon, the human sighed and let Sylvia close her jaws after her foot without a struggle.

When her head pressed against the ring of muscle, Victoria had resigned herself to her fate as dragon food. After all, the only person who knew where she was was Dzamie, and that katul would probably demand something-

Her head ran into something solid, and a clattering sound entered her ears, rather than just the constant squelching of wet flesh. Victoria opened her eyes, then sat up and- well, sat up, brushed her hair and Sylvia’s drool from her eyes, and then really opened them to see...

A pile of assorted coins, gold, silver, bronze, and more, bars of precious metals, gems of many colors, piled up nearly as tall as Victoria, herself! A trio of abstract sculptures - possibly part of a set, Victoria reasoned, though one could never really tell with that much abstraction. And, for some reason-

“So, how is it? I’m glad you calmed down eventually,” came Sylvia’s voice from all around.

“There’s... a train engine...” was all Victoria could say.

The little dragoness laughed. “Haha, yeah! One of my earlier additions, actually. I bet every hammerspace dragon does one of those, ‘okay, but CAN I eat that?’ things; I just decided to keep mine for a while, as a trophy, and over time, well, it’s a bit sentimental now.”

“You ATE and KEPT an ENTIRE TRAIN OUT OF THE-?!” the human shouted, dumbfounded, then faltered. “Uh, what’s it called, train house?”

Another laugh. “No, no, I ate a MOVING train - well, just pulling out, not that fast - and kept the engine car. The passenger car and all the delicious treats within are years gone.” There was a pause, and then. “Don’t worry, though. I’m much nicer these days, keep myself in the green zone.”

Victoria sighed, crawled over to the vehicle, and climbed into a seat. “Well, as far as places to die go, this place at least looks nicer than I expected.”

“Die? Who said anything about that? I’m not letting you stay in my stomach, you’ve got stuff to learn and I’ve got strawberries to eat, given only to dragons who DON’T have anyone stewing away in their bellies. ...willing meals notwithstanding.”

Another sigh, though this time of exasperation. “Sylvia... stomachs digest organic material. I am an organic material. I just hope I pass out before the pain gets to me too much.”

This time, there was raucous laughter, followed by a shriek and a swear. “Uh, sorry, fell off the table. You should attend more dragon biology lessons. And/or ask Dzamie for some notes, though if you do, prepare to have an entire encyclopedia dumped on you. Unabridged.”

“I’m safe?”

“You’re the biggest danger to yourself in there. Don’t smash yourself in the head with a sculpture and you’ll be fine.”

Victoria’s mind was still reeling. Nearly half a dozen earthshaking revelations in only a few minutes was not an easy thing to deal with. “And... you’ll let me out when I ask?”

“Or in half an hour. I want strawberries and that’s when there are strawberries. Oh, but make sure you aren’t holding anything when you come back up, or you WILL be eaten again, and it WON’T be to see all my shinies.”

This time, Victoria decided to take her threat seriously. And she had more reason to not “rain on her parade” about being a deadly maneater.

[kaetastic]

Bound To Be Spilled

pairing: Post-Azkaban!Sirius Black x Harry’s-Former-Crush!Reader

summary: Wrapped in the golden circle had meant Y/N was bound to run into trouble, if only she’d know the trouble was Harry Potter’s Godfather. Only, she had been oblivious to Harry’s glances, and his attempts to court her previous years ago.

word count: 4.3k

warning: fluff, angst?, happy harry, confused harry, unprotected sex, smut, interruptions because why not

note: the reader is of age, of course! she’s in her last year, 18-19 y/o :)) this is also set in order of the phoenix balalalalalalalal sirius black doesn’t die blaalalal he never dies blalalalalalal also i didn’t know what to do with the ?!Reader lmao yes

The elegant green wallpaper of the house had been the standing piece of the pureblood’s proud house. Well, not so much elegant as time paced without a sole concern for the maintenance of the quality. Even though Sirius remembered it being green during his childhood, he believed that the colours had begun to fade away in shades he thought wasn’t even possible. The walls began to look like Swiss cheese, chunks scraped off- vanished to leave a unique design. The unfortunate pieces were probably nudged under moulding furniture or swiped away by the only creature who cared to exert an effort to clean the abandoned place- Kreacher. 

The house lingered after the tragic death of the last remaining member of the Black family to place the property on the minuscule hands of a house-elf as the sole living heir to the house was locked away in the walls of Azkaban. Walburga did not only think her oldest son would rot in the prison after receiving a Dementor’s kiss, but she believed it. She knew Sirius would not come out alive. 

The passing down of the property was a reminder to the next generation who would be receiving the key of their loyalty that prided itself to the generations-worth of being sorted into the right house. To the green serpent. Except, the current holder wished he could’ve found a way to strip every bit that reminded him of his neglected childhood. Although, Sirius wasn’t sure if he was neglected, or he had been the one to avoid his parents every possible moment during his youth. It was more or less of not wanting to hear their voices and wanting to annoy every fibre of their being. 

The framed portrait of his mother that he could not find a spell to yank out of the wall, the room that had been the sole reason for the outrageous family tree, and the house-elf had been only a small list of things he couldn’t get rid of. Oh, the house-elf. It was so easy for the creature to get on the wizard’s nerves that the pureblood believed his tolerance had run short. It wouldn’t be long before Sirius Black snapped towards the elf that never took a liking to him ever since a child. That was what Sirius feared. Locked in the prison walls of Azkaban for a crime he had not committed, he feared he would be chucked back in for a crime he was sure to commit by the murdering of Kreacher.

Despite his hatred for the slimy creature, and how he wished to throw a ragged sock on his face so Sirius could be free from the torture of the elf, Kreacher had been useful in some ways such as cleaning the house. That, and accompanying his mother’s babbling portrait. It had only been a few years since he had left the tainted walls of Azkaban. Years he had tried to set himself in the right mind space, years he had tried to renovate himself, not to be the boy he was but the man he wanted to be. The same years he wanted to change things up in the house he grew up in. Except, he hadn’t found the energy and will to do so. Call it procrastination, Sirius called it refilling his wizard’s magic bar. 

There had been times when he wanted to rip everything, redo the whole house. Despite the engulfing thoughts of him doing productive chores, he could never find himself pulling his body up from the couch to enter his parents’ bedroom nor his little brother’s. The emotion- he couldn’t describe. Maybe he could if he had done a little digging with care; however, Sirius didn’t want to hear the truth. He didn’t want to know what that feeling of sympathy was. So, he steered away from their rooms. It wasn’t accidental laziness. He only intended extending the time he wasted so he didn’t have to face the obstacle. 

With his successful escape from Azkaban, numerous things had changed ever since he had been thrown into the prison. No matter the number of times the shadowy figures of Dementors had walked past him while he cowered in the corner of the cell, nothing would get rid of his youthful personality. That was probably why one name kept echoing in his head. Sirius Black was known to be a charmer during his years in Hogwarts, to say the least, he believed that it had never gone. James had placed such a label on Sirius’s head. The memory of James losing a bet to say the true words had been blurred away. There was no need for a bet as the words had been a prophecy. 

Sirius Black wasn’t sure what to feel after the meeting. It had been fiery as he had expected. Words had been thrown around, over and under the table of where the Order Of The Phoenix was to go with the terrifying news. The news that Harry Potter was to be the new target of Voldemort. He was just a mere boy for Merlin’s sake. Sirius wasn’t sure where he got it from, the sudden rush of a mother bird defending his belief that the young target of the Dark Lord should be aware of what was to come. He stood by it without a quiver in his ageing knees. Harry had every right to know what the Order suspected in the upcoming time. Hell, if it was not rights- Harry must know for his own safety. Except, the Weasley’s mother heart laid elsewhere. 

“You sure you’re all right, Harry? Gave us quite a turn.” The words fell off Arthur’s lips in a swift swerve. 

“Harry Potter.”

Parting from each other quite reluctantly, the parents of the Weasley’s stood by the wall, widening space for the Godfather and his Godson. Harry stood there, eyes dazzling at the figure in joy, a feeling he had latched on for years. The only family he had left. Sirius might’ve not been related to him by blood, but he was a family nonetheless. The young wizard didn’t waste time jumping into the embrace of his Godfather. The warmth he had been craving for so long had finally come under the roof of a house that had only sent him mere creepy shivers, “Sirius.”

Although Harry’s figure that was wrapped in Sirius’s arms had made him smaller, comparably, the pureblood wizard couldn’t help but linger on the thought of how fast the boy had grown. Just years ago, Harry had aided him onto the back of Buckbeak, now, he was a man. Well, Molly Weasley liked to believe otherwise. Despite the sentimental interaction of the two, he had no control of his eyes that trailed towards the leaning figure against the railing of the endless stairs. The pureblood wizard wore a wide smile, no doubt, everyone would assume was from the embrace he had longed for. If only they had known. Y/N returned the gesture. 

It felt so warm, the glowing feeling in his chest in knowing he had the privilege and the blessing to become the Godfather of James’ son. Sirius still remembered when the news was revealed to him. Oh, he felt as if he was swimming over the misty puffs of clouds. As the two figure pulled away, Sirius reluctantly peeled his eyes away from the woman to face the overjoyed wizard, his palms sat on Harry’s shoulders, “How about you go first? I need to grab something from my room.” The boy nodded, the corners of his lips curling up at the soft pat on his back- no different to that from a father figure. Harry could sense the speckle of sorrow at the mention of the word, yet, with everything that surrounded him: family, friends- there was nothing else he wanted more. 

Sirius’s eyes trained on the group that faded to the kitchen, some bustling noise had trickled along the hallway. It was so lively. Finally. The word sung in Sirius’s head. Not everyone was willing or free to accompany the sad old escapee. He knew no one wanted to, especially with the fact that they would have to rest in the pathetic house. The times when he would cower in sorrow had been long forgotten at the uproar of life set by the Weasleys. Especially with the twins who displayed mischief, he could only think of when he was the same age as them. The bunch of their heads were enough to create an army. 

Even though his stomach had endured enough of the sad excuse of meals in Azkaban (well, what was he to expect in such a place?) was growling in anger to why his body began pacing towards the stairs, away from the scrumptious goodness that was baking up by Molly, the wizard didn’t bother to smother care as one thing was plastered across his head. He couldn’t help the corners of his lips curling up at the figure that stood there seconds ago. Steps creaking with every kick of his leg, the pureblood wizard didn’t bother to make his haste pace stealthy. It had been some time since he had seen her. The desperation of needing her body in his arms and her lips against his had blurred out any other thoughts. 

Y/N’s eyes snapped towards the shadowy figure that barged into the owner of the house’s bedroom. It wasn’t exactly her first time in the room that screamed out ‘Gryffindor’ from the simple decorations that built up the empty room. Yet, every time she entered the bedroom, she couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the subtle things that made up Sirius’s childhood. 

There had been some things he was embarrassed about like the pictures of Muggle women clad in bikinis that were magically plastered onto a wall. Even though he had been the one to bind them to piss off his mother who would pull her hair out when she could not peel it off, he wanted to do nothing but rip it out. Especially when he would have a woman screaming his name in his room. Sirius didn’t know what spell would take it off. 

With graceful aid from the warm glow from the spherical light source, the minimal smear of light jabbing from the dim corridor splaying to blur out a smudge around his figure danced with one another to sharpen the figures. A second lingered in the air. A second where their eyes beamed onto each other’s, relishing the other’s outline- though, that only applied for Y/N as he could make out every detail of her. Sirius shut the door. He had to remind himself to make less noise to not quiver suspicion from those who were in the kitchen. Even though he knew they were waiting for him to begin devouring dinner, there was not a smear of guilt in him. Yet, with the pushing suggestion of lowering down sound, he couldn’t help but hear the ancient hinges crying out a plea for mercy. 

Then, the wishes he had begged for during the hopeless days of his pathetic soul locked in the walls of his childhood home came true. The only difference when he was in the prison than stuffed away in the house was the pesky presence of those shadowy blankets were no longer. Oh, he also had more freedom and space to wander around in the house- but still, it didn’t feel good to be bound to a house because a whole government was scrambling to throw you back to prison. A sacrifice it must. Her soft fingers rested on his cheeks, the pads grazing over the curls on his jaw. The trimmed and groomed patch of hair looked great on him. 

The pureblood wizard bit his bottom lip once they pulled away. He took in everything she had to offer, the warm gaze of her eyes, her scent, and the gentle kiss of her fingers against his skin. Sirius had no control over the corners of his lips that curled up. He basked in her appearance, in her presence. 

“Hello, darling,” Sirius slipped out, the warm puff was squeezed out of his chest, heaving the exhalation to pierce her lips. Even though the lamp that sat in the corner of the room had only splayed out a smear of light, he could tell the glint in her eyes had glittered. “It has been some time.”

“It has.” The witch chuckled out as she wrapped her arms around his neck to lower him, the gentle brushing of her skin against the prickling bristles of his hair felt more comforting- far more than when people who lived on the edge or people who cared for animals had petted him while he was in his animagus form. There were times he liked their caring pets, some had even ruffled nasty fleas. Although, some had stood on the tip of their toes as they ran their hands over his fur. It had not been a fun situation to be in. 

Sirius leaned in once again. He couldn’t- no, he didn’t want to resist the urge of his lips on hers. During his youth in Hogwarts, he had spent his time ogling girls. Somehow, he had managed to receive decent marks. Well, he had to give credit to his old pal, Remus Lupin who had been the one to drag him by the back of his shirt to the library. Remus had once also used a silencing charm on the pureblood wizard since the boy could not comprehend the terms of being under a library’s roof. But not one girl he had long histories with made him feel like what he felt when he was with Y/N. It was new. It was foreign. He liked it. His fingers trailed down onto her waist, inching her closer to him while their tongues danced; even though she wouldn’t mind him yanking her onto his chest.

“Look at you. You look dapper in maroon… or is it burgundy?” Sirius rolled his eyes, the sweet song of her laughter was silenced by his lips. Locked away in the house had only meant his head had sprinted for ideas on end. He had tried every little idea that suggested time to pass in a blink of an eye. All from trying out new hobbies such as knitting to playing chess by himself. Sirius had used magic to enchant the board given by Arthur. However, it seemed every time he was up against the spell he had cast, he would lose. Nothing helped but spacing out in dreams he could only ponder hours on end. Dreams of a life where he could saunter across the street without having to bother about being captured. Dreams of a family. 

“I look good in everything.” 

“You look better in nothing.” 

With a quirk of a coquettish smile, she had expected the man to be pulled abruptly at her uncalled words. However, it was Sirius Black. And Sirius always managed to steer away from people’s expectations. Humming at her statement, his fingers descended to grope the swell of her ass. The wizard relished in the way her breath hitched in a gasp. He didn’t bother to make his path down go by unnoticed, he wanted her to feel every drag of his rough pads. Despite their few years of acquainting one another, it felt as if Sirius had learnt a whole load about her. Especially how she liked it. With languid movements and deep gazing into her eyes, he opposed, “I look my best on you.”

“Hm? Why aren’t you looking your best, then?”

Oh. Sirius wanted to do nothing but throw her on his bed, peel off every stubborn layer that stood between the two. He didn’t even think about the guests who were still waiting for his arrival at the table. It sounded too good.

“Sirius! Move your ass, won’t you? Your seat at the head is left empty, everyone’s waiting for the news.” The sweet, sweet voice of Remus trickled into the cracks of the door. Sirius could feel his neck craned down to stare at the sad state of his floor, frustration easing into his muscles. There was great disappointment, irritation, and overall, the need to shake his old friend. Remus didn’t know about the two. No one did- fortunately. Somehow, one way or another, what the two had done behind walls did not leak out… yet. Just yet. 

The pureblood wizard was proud of his achievement; the fact that he had managed to keep such a secret without spilling it all into Remus’s ears meant a great deal. Especially with his Godson. Just the thought of Harry finding out what his Godfather- the man his father trusted his whole life with, had been doing with his former crush would just worsen the boy’s life. What’s worse is that the boy already had the bar of his life’s difficulty high up. Sirius still remembered the time Harry told him of the observing crush he had on Y/N who was roughly three years older than his age. She had been around her fifth grade when Harry was just a mere second grade. 

Sirius recalled the time when Harry confessed he had moved on from the silly crush. The boy did everything he could in hopes she would see him. The hopeless feeling for the older woman was long gone… maybe. Well, that was what he told Sirius anyway. Subtle sticks of flowers, running into her occasionally- nothing had worked. What Sirius did know was that the witch felt something for him, the Godfather of the boy. Before he knew it, he threw himself in a hole, surrounded by revolving gears that would churn boisterously with every slight movement he made. To get out of it, he would have to rest his hand upon the gears. Something was bound to go wrong. It just hadn’t. 

Y/N was more hooked onto the ‘news’ Remus was talking about while Sirius could feel steams of fury huff out of his ears. Seconds of silence hung upon the air. Sirius could feel the negative emotions lift from his chest as he swam through the elating feeling. There were only a few centimetres between their lips before Remus’s voice cladded around their heads, “Have you seen Y/N? I swear I saw her…” 

The wizard pressed his lips, a heavy exhale echoing into the air, quite audible to the man who lingered in front of the door, “No! I haven’t seen her.” Neck craned towards the door to yell out his reply, Y/N muffled her giggles with her hand at his frustration. 

“Come on, old man, don’t want them becoming suspicious.”

Even though the news cracked by some willing members of the Order of the Phoenix had cracked over the youthful heads of wizards had been terrifying which sent shivers down their spines, stolen glances were not wasted. Y/N had to swallow down the chewed up ball of scrumptious meal Molly had made with the chilling fact that the boy she knew would have an enormous red target over his head. And because he was Harry Potter, he had insisted on standing beside the Order, scratch that- join the Order to defeat Voldemort. She wasn’t exactly sure what weapon the Dark Lord wanted according to Sirius’s words, but with connecting vague dots and assumptions, she had made a large leap.

Even if her theory to the weapon had sounded astounding, the fact that Harry had been the victim of many Voldemort’s doings had proved as evidence. Cedric’s death had been a strong proof that Voldemort had returned to his body. Yet, with words and power- eyes were sculpted to narrow onto one perspective: the lies of the Minister. 

Harry bore the mark, Harry cried out for the unfortunate death of the Hufflepuff- but he was portrayed as a little boy who lied, the boy who cried wolf. It was fear. All fear. The Minister was being thrown in the palms of fear, it warped around his mind, pinching the wizard to be blinded by the possibilities of him being thrown from his powerful position. If the man was trying to not shake the entire wizard population, merits could be given for his thoughtful idea. Except, the entire population he did not want to stand on their toes were far from moving… they had been dripping icicles. Well, some. There had been people who were qualified to steer away from the captivating words.

It took some time to gulp down the words. Now, she was gulping down wanton moans even though Sirius had insisted multiple times to let out all the noises. With her knees dug into the red cover of his bed, head planted onto the staggering rocks of the mattress and wrists held by him, there was no longer pain or aching muscles for all of it were overlapped with pleasure. A growl echoed from the pureblood’s throat, guttural, swimming in pools of pleased needs. Needs that had been building up for years. Needs that made way into his mind at the thought of the woman.

He threw his head back at the clenching of her walls against his shaft, Sirius grasped her waist to thrust deeper. Beads of sweat had woven through his hair, damping strands to splay against his forehead. The creaking of the ancient bed trickled into the air, mixed in with the slamming of the wooden post against the wall. Sirius could not bother if everyone was wide-awake, listening to the banging of the walls. Free concert, he tutted. Although, the noise within the walls was much more enjoyable- to Sirius. His eyes grazed over red that had plastered all over his room. The corners of his lips curled up as he remembered his rebel-self during his youth. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m going to cum.” The words hissed out of his mouth sent shivers against her skin, pricking with teasing pinches. Y/N panted, eyes squeezed tight as his thrusts snapped harder. Her lips were parted open, sharp moans stinging out while her fingers clambered into the blanket. It wasn’t long before they chased their own release. 

Once she managed to turn herself, back splayed out on the bed, chest still heaving from the strenuous laps, her eyes narrowed onto the man. Oh, what a sight it was. 

“Full of energy even though you’re an old man.” Sirius threw his head back, boisterous cackling from his lips rebounded from the walls into her ears. The noise finally died down. Y/N finally realized how great he looked with red. Every angle she craned her neck, she would be met with the sole colour. She couldn’t see Sirius with green. 

His arm planted beside her head, the other creeping up her thighs to rest it against his hip, “Who said I’m old?” The same lust-filled eyes gazed deep into hers. 

“Sirius, there’s been some things I’ve wanted to, holy-” 

Eyes snapped onto the door that swung without creak that would cry out whenever the wizard would turn gently. Y/N was the first to react, her hands swung to yank the shivering cover while Harry stood still under the door frame as if he had been cast with Petrificus Totalus. The boy barely realized he was staring at the couple who had just finished one of their many rounds until his eyes trailed to meet his Godfather’s. Red smeared over his cheeks, quite prominently once he had gulped down the fact that he just saw the bare body of his father’s friend hovering over his former crush. Sirius hastily got off the bed, rushing across the carpeted floor- butt still open to the air. Even though he felt this day would come, where the secret would rise to the surface- he did not expect or assume it would be like so. He didn’t even spend a cent on having his Godson running on him bare.

“Just one second.” Sirius murmured, hands yanking up the trousers he had thrown haphazardly all across the room before draping his shirt on over his shoulder without buttoning. The fabric would swing with every churn of his body, exposing the marking that smeared all over his chest, proudly made by Y/N, sprinkled in the exhausting rounds.

Harry only heard the rustling of cloth brushing harshly against skin, swirled into faint mumbling between the two, “Well, time for an explanation, right?” 

“Without a doubt, Sirius,” The boy hissed to his Godfather, his body inches away. The words slipped out of his tongue in whispers. “What are you doing? Don’t you remember that this is the exact girl I told you I liked.”

“Liked, Harry. Past tense.” The pureblood wizard patted Harry’s shoulders.

“That doesn’t make this situation any better.”

“No, it wouldn’t… I don’t do too well with easing tensions, though, there are some times when I would say otherwise.” Harry let out a huff, eyes rolling at Sirius when the man craned his neck towards the woman who sat on the ruffled bed. 

“Just- when did this all happen? When did it start?” Harry gestured towards the two.

“A year ago? Maybe?” Y/N shrugged her shoulder, not remembering when the two had fallen into the routine.

“This is a lot to take in…”

Sirius grinned, his palms slammed onto his Godson’s shoulders, “Listen here, Harry. This isn’t a competition. Because if it was, I would win. Anyway, I hope you can keep this to yourself since we hadn’t really found the comforts to… bring up the story to the rest. Also, don’t say a word to your friends.”

Harry met his eyes that glared into his soul, “I’m not sure how to feel. I guess I’m glad you’ve found somebody? This is just so weird.” 

[teamxdark]

I still want to post anything at all so. Here's the first unedited chapter of SatCK.

Also, once it's done, would people rather it all be posted at once, or a chapter a day? Let me know!

The clouds loomed low, obscuring the sun and showering the world in gray as a lone raven landed on the bones of a long-dead animal. He tapped his beak to the skull, as though to test the hardiness of the material, his eyes flashing with what might have been a sense of superiority before he looked back at the empty dirt path that cut through the grass and took off into the air.

The path did not remain empty for long; a girl ran along it just a moment later, her long purple cloak drawn closely over herself and her boots kicking up dust as she ran. In her hands, she clutched a staff tightly to her chest, which heaved with exertion as the girl kept running, occasionally glancing over her shoulder to see if she was being followed.

At first, everything looked peaceful and devoid of life behind her, and her shoulders relaxed just a fraction.

Then, from the endless gray that covered the land, dark creatures spawned from the shadows, transforming from dark spots with glowing magenta eyes to massive beasts of all kinds, both landbound and flying, burly and nimble, and all clad in faded, heavy armor while wielding great blades that glinted dully, even with the lack of sunlight.

The girl stopped as she realized that she was trapped, while from a nearby tree, the raven watched calmly. As the monstrous warriors surrounded the girl from all sides, the bird took flight, swooping high up into air before dropping down, and in the blink of an eye, he transformed.

One minute, there was a raven in the air. The next moment, a pair of black metal boots touched the earth, and the imposing figure of a man in heavy armor stood at full height before the frightened girl. He approached her, drawing his blade, his eyes glowing through the slits in his helmet as he approached, promising death. In the air, thick with tension, his voice cut through, clear and full of malice.

“This is the end for you and your treason. I will see to that myself.”

The girl’s hands trembled as they fumbled with her staff, then steadied themselves with a great show of effort. The girl took a deep breath, forcing down her nerves, and struck the ground with the magical artifact, summoning forth its magical properties as she began to chant, summoning a blue light all around her that had the armored beasts recoiling and the man with the sword halting in his tracks.

That was all she needed to finish her spell.

“O brave knight, swift as the wind! Heed my call!” she implored, looking up at the sky as though the answer to her troubles would fall before her. From all around her, the cyan light glowed bright, until it exploded upwards, a column of magical might, piercing through the clouds and striking the heavens, leaving a sole spot of light in the otherwise gloomy sky.

And something did, indeed, fall down to her, and it fell with a scream that cut itself short as the being, a blue hedgehog, faceplanted in the dirt road.

This wasn’t what Sonic had been expecting out of today.

He lifted his face, shaking away the gravel, and scrambled to his feet, scampering forward until he caught one chilidog that, like him, fell from above, and then leapt in the other direction to catch the second one just before it hit the ground. Sonic sighed in relief, bringing himself back to his feet and taking a look around.

“Hey… where am I?”

The sound of footstep behind him prompted him to turn around, and he saw the girl approach him, her eyes widening and her lips parting as she looked upon him. For a second, no words came from her, but she appeared to find her tongue quickly. “Being from a distant world, forgive my abrupt summons!” She knelt beside him, still shaking from her run, and slid her hood down, revealing delicate features and long, pointed ears.

That’s not something you see every day on a human…

Movement from over her shoulder distracted Sonic from the girl’s unusual ears, prompting him to look over at the group of beasts in armor, which were beginning to encroach upon them. Sonic took a look behind him, beholding the armored man who stood stock-still, beholding him without a word, his shadowy aura growing thick around him.

Sonic let out a chuckle, quickly finishing off one of the chilidogs in his hands. It didn’t seem like he would be having lunch with Amy after all, but he couldn’t let such a delicacy go to waste. Making a mental note to apologize to his friend once this was over and maybe reschedule the whole thing, Sonic tossed the second chilidog to his other hand, spinning it idly around as he spoke to the girl. “Oh, I get it,” he reassured her. “No problem! I’m used to stuff like this!”

Enemies all around? Overwhelming sense of dread? Tension in the air so thick you could choke on it?

He was called in to fight and rescue this girl, he was sure of it.

With a grin, he threw his snack up high into the air and dashed off, leaving behind a gust of wind as powerful as a shockwave. He vaguely heard the girl gasp as he ran through the cluster of armored enemies, creating another shockwave that, to his surprise, made them evaporate without any more fuss. Sonic pushed the surprise away 一 there was bound to be a reason why, and it wasn’t like he had to know it now or anything 一 and refocused on returning to his spot, catching the chilidog before it was anywhere close to the ground.

He glanced back at the girl, who was staring at him with open astonishment, her hand in front of her mouth and her eyes wide. Sonic allowed himself a small, self-satisfied smirk at demonstrating his abilities so cleanly, then turned back toward the last enemy, the armored man, who still hadn’t moved from his spot and was still staring at him.

Sonic began spinning his snack around again. “Don’t forget to blink,” he taunted, and finally, the man moved, bringing his sword 一 a bright, golden blade that didn’t match his dark getup at all 一 up and before him. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a face like yours,” the man said, pointing the tip of the blade at Sonic.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. You’ve got all that armor in front of your eyes! How about I knock it away and you can get a real good look--”

“No, you mustn’t!”

A hand grabbed tightly over his arm, stunning him enough that he fumbled with his free hand and sent his chilidog tumbling to the ground. Sonic looked from his ruined treat to the girl who stopped him as she swung her staff before them both, causing a vortex of dirt and wind to surround them. As Sonic felt himself begin to get pulled away, he reached out a hand to his fallen treat and the final enemy that he had yet to even try to defeat, but it was all in vain. The armored man charged forward, but his sword only struck empty air.

The man cursed under his breath, turning away from the vanishing point and walking a few paces away, crushing the chilidog underneath one of his boots without a second thought. “She’s slipped away from me again,” he growled, the dark aura around him growing stronger. “And now she has an ally of the worst kind…”

The man kicked at the ground, wiping some of the remains of meat and beans away as he did so, and wasted no more time in jumping into the air and transforming back into a raven, shedding a single feather as he soared away, over hills and valleys, clearing a town and swooping over the outer wall of a magnificent castle, landing before five people standing in wait, clad in polished, presentable armor. He transformed back into his true form, and all five knelt before him, bowing their heads without hesitation.

My knights...

For just a moment, the man’s gaze swept over the five before him, something akin to pride sparking deep within him, before the feeling extinguished itself as quickly as it came, leaving nothing but coldness in its wake.

“She’s escaped me again, but I shall continue to give chase,” he informed them, seeing a few ears perk up as he spoke. “At this point, I cannot stand another day knowing that she evades me. Spread out, and slay her on sight. I no longer care if it is by my hand or not.”

Five heads nodded, still bowed, and the man felt satisfied until he remembered the other important piece of information.

“She has recruited an ally, a magical warrior. You will know him when you see him. Do not fall for his tricks, and slay him as well. Mercy is not an option. We have no time to lose.”

With that, the man turned away and leapt into the air again, transforming back into a bird to continue his search, while behind him, the five lifted their heads and got to their feet.

“That was vague,” one spoke; a green hawk with two fanned blades.

“Hush, Brother,” another one said; a purple cat wielding a rapier. “Our king has much to handle and no time to spare. It is our duty to help shoulder his burdens as best as we can.”

“I apologize, Percival,” a third one piped up; a pale gray hedgehog with long spines, “but I must agree with Lamorak. We do not know what this ‘magical warrior’ of hers looks like!”

“More likely than not, he will be travelling with her,” yet another spat; a black hedgehog with red streaks in his fur. “If we find one, we will almost certainly find the other, and even if we don’t, our king has made it clear that we will know him when we see him. Now, let us depart.”

“But must we?” the final one asked; a red echidna with two axe-like swords. “She is the Royal Wizard, after all!”

The black hedgehog’s head snapped over, his voice taking a hard edge as he spoke. “She was the Royal Wizard, and in any case, the king’s orders are absolute, Gawain.”

“Yes, but--”

“We have been given our task,” the gray hedgehog said, walking up between them both. “If he demands that they be slain, then slain they shall be.”

This seemed to pacify the black hedgehog, who nodded once before racing off, with the gray hedgehog close behind. The one named Gawain heaved a sigh as the one named Percival approached him. “Without loyalty to the king, we are nothing,” she reminded him sternly, though the next second she looked off to the horizon, where the hedgehogs had become little more than specks. “Still, the king… he has changed,” she murmured, much softer and thoughtful. “And this kingdom…”

“That would be putting it lightly,” the one called Lamorak scoffed, nudging Percival with his shoulder, much to her annoyance. “I need no magical gifts to see that there are troubling times ahead of us. However, there is not much else for us to do.”

“Only our jobs, and to trust our king’s judgement,” Gawain finished the thought, looking at one of his blades with a resigned slump to his shoulders. “Very well. I shall not be the one to disappoint him.”

Yet even with those words, the unease did not leave the knights as they left the castle walls in search for their targets.

[alirhi]

random story snippet

@goblin-tea this is part of that story I was talking about/sending you bits of. I'll get into the better stuff (imo) in a bit, but this is a much better example of what the main characters are like than what I sent earlier lol

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto,” she mumbled, still clinging to Audrey’s hand as she nervously followed Fiona’s example and took a moment to study the immediate area.

“No shit, Sherlock,” the blonde growled, yanking her hand away. Rebecca could stand there like an idiot if she chose, but damn it! She was going to explore and find a way home, right now. Clearly, her friend’s oh-so-brilliant spell had backfired quite horribly, and now they were lost, with no idea of where they were, when they were, or what was going…

Her thoughts were jarringly interrupted when Rebecca suddenly let out a short, high-pitched scream, causing both of her friends to jump.

“WHAT?!” Spinning to face the taller woman, she took a deep breath in preparation to chew her out, and then promptly hid behind her. “…Is that a dinosaur?”

“Deinonychus,” Rebecca confirmed in a reverent whisper. Her screech had been from excitement, rather than fear; the giant grin on her freckled face was evidence enough of that. Though she knew she was the only one who cared about the details, she still explained in a rush, “Fast, smart, and very deadly carnivore from the late Cretaceous period, probably the basis for the oversized velociraptors in Jurassic Park… A raptor’s colorful feathers make it look like a ridiculous, disproportionate toucan, which is probably why the producers chose to make it look more like our friend here. Fossils of the deinonychus have never been found with any indication of feathers.”

“It does have feathers, you walking Wiki!” Audrey hissed, stepping back. No way in hell was she going to stand there like an idiot and get eaten by some parrot on crack.

Fiona remained rooted in place beside the other redhead, though she did stoop to pick up Rebecca's forgotten staff, just in case the curious animal decided to attack. A tiny smile played at the edges of her lips at the toucan comparison. It did sort of look like one, in a weird way…

Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, their nerdy friend nodded. “Yeah… Most of this type of dinosaur did, so paleontologists kinda figured the deinonychus would, too.”

The prehistoric bird of prey studied them, almost seeming to ponder something. Just as Rebecca was about to make a Philosoraptor joke, the fascinating – if deadly – beast twitched, letting out a series of loud clicking noises.

“…Huh. Whaddaya know. That dude on youtube was right…” An answering call echoed from somewhere to the left of the three shivering girls, and startled the amateur paleontologist out of her daze. “Oh shit.”

“What?” Both of her friends shot her nervous glances, reluctant to take their eyes off of the giant predator. Why wasn’t it moving?

“Run.” When Fiona shot her an incredulous look, Rebecca shook her head. Normally, yes, she would caution against any sudden moves around a wild animal, but this was different. More clicks from their right, answered by the one animal they could see, illustrated why. “He’s calling in reinforcements – run!”

That was all the motivation the shivering blonde needed. With a terrified shriek, Audrey turned and bolted into the forest, Rebecca and Fiona hot on her heels.

“I think it’s safe to assume,” the oldest woman gasped out, jumping over a fallen tree limb, “that we’ve somehow been sent back too far.”

“Ya THINK?!”

"Now's not the time to get snippy!” Her lungs were burning, her legs cramping, and though she could hear the creature gaining on them, she had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t putting forth much effort. She and her surrogate sister were both overweight to the point of obesity, and as such, speed wasn’t exactly on their side. In fact, it had been one of the things they’d hoped to go back and change; if they never got fat, they wouldn’t have to deal with the health problems associated with it or the hassle of constantly trying and failing to lose it.

Risking a glance to the side, she noticed Fiona keeping pace with them, and winced. She was hanging back to help them, she knew. By far the skinniest and healthiest of the three of them, she was lightning fast compared to the other two. While both her companions were morbidly obese, Fiona was lithe and fit, with legs like a gazelle. She was going slowly so she could defend them with that big stick if she had to. That was the only logical explanation Rebecca could come up with. The fact that the 'big stick' was her own walking stick was momentarily lost on the eldest of the three.

Mother above, she prayed desperately, if there’s even a trace of magic left in my blood, please, please unleash it now to give us speed.

Too angry and frightened to bother with logic, Audrey just rolled her eyes, yelping when it caused her to trip over a rock and nearly sent her sprawling. Fiona caught her by the arm and helped her steady herself, and she managed a tiny grateful smile, even as she snapped at the redhead, “Shut up! It’s your fault that we’re in our own personal Jurassic Hell, being chased by a fucking raptor!”

“Cretaceous!” Rebecca snarled, dodging around a rather intimidating thorny bush. “And it’s not a raptor, it’s-”

“I DON’T CARE!”

“It’s actually quite fascinating,” Rebecca asserted through wheezing gasps for breath, “if you think about it. We finally… get to see… proof… that dino…saurs… were more like…flightless…birds…than…”

“I don’t give a shit if we’re being chased by an ostrich or a crocodile!” Audrey screeched before her friend could finish. “If I end up something’s lunch, it’s your fault! And you know what? Fuck you! Fuck your stupid spell. Fuck your obsessions. Fuck your fucking imaginary friend and the horse you both rode in on for good measure!” Even in a life-or-death situation, somehow an old inside joke popped into her head, and she managed to suck in a deep enough breath to scream, "AND YES, HE'S NAMED 'SIDEWAYS'!"

“Guys, this really isn’t the time to be arguing,” Fiona pointed out as calmly as she could, glancing over her shoulder to see how they were faring. It wasn't good. She could deal with Audrey and her rather offensive temper tantrum later, she decided; escaping the turkey-sized ball of feathers and teeth chasing them took precedence.

“Sorry…” Pouting a little, the blonde risked a glance back, and nearly wet herself when she saw that their prehistoric pursuer was getting closer and closer. “Oh, fuck me…” Something brushed the side of her head, and she jumped, but it was only a leaf hanging down from another large tree.

Wait. Leaf…tree… She glanced up, relieved to see that the branch was low enough for her to grab hold. Circling around so that she wouldn’t get caught by their feathered menace, she pushed herself just a little bit more and managed to haul herself up onto the branch. “Guys!”

“What are you doing?!” Rebecca cried, having been too focused on running to notice where Audrey had gone. Fiona had been taking up the rear, focus switching between the others and the predator, but had been looking primarily in the latter’s direction for a few minutes. When she turned and saw only Rebecca standing there, she froze and glanced around. As they spotted Audrey in the tree, they also became aware of the fact that their enemy seemed a lot closer than before.

“Can raptors climb?” Audrey called out, wincing as she watched the scene unfold. Though she had long legs and strong, muscular calves, Rebecca outweighed her by a good fifty pounds, and it was visibly taking its toll. She was tiring, and the blonde just prayed she could pull herself up to safety before that thing or its as-yet unseen companions ripped her apart. She had plenty of reasons not to worry too much about Fiona.

“Come on.” Urging her tiring friend on, the skinnier redhead decided to take at least this one cue from Audrey and circled around the trunk of a massive tree, making sure Rebecca followed. It confused their attacker, bought them a little time, and kept them from getting out of earshot of Audrey.

At her friend’s soft, gentle reminder of what she’d been asked, Rebecca frowned. She wanted to remind the treed woman that they weren’t being chased by a velociraptor, but dismissed it as a waste of time. Instead, she considered her question as she doubled back.

Could this breed of dinosaurs climb? “I…I’m not sure,” she panted, one hand coming up to press against her chest. “I don’t think so. Their arms are probably too small to pull them up.”

“Then get your ass up here!”

They reached the tree, and Fiona quickly jumped up like it was nothing, setting the staff aside and braced across two nearby branches to keep it from falling. She and Audrey then each stretched out an arm, hands extended to grab Rebecca’s and pull her up as the youngest of the three continued, “And pray Jurassic Park was wrong about more than just the raptor’s appearance, cuz here he comes, and if he brought friends, you’re toast!”

“It’s not a raptor!” Rebecca reached for their hands, though she harbored little hope that she could actually get her fat ass up there. With or without their help, in her mind, she was dead.

“Please note, you’re the only one who cares,” the other young woman grumbled, grasping her friend’s wrist and exerting every bit of strength she had left to pull her to safety. Rebecca had virtually no upper body strength, and without Audrey and Fiona, would never be able to make it up onto the branch, despite being taller than both of them.

She almost dropped the larger girl when she suddenly yelped. Fiona glared at her, trying to compensate by taking more of their friend’s weight until she got a better grip on her arm.

Still a bit startled, she searched Rebecca’s eyes for some sign of what the hell that had been about, and found only fear. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Pull me up! Pull me up!” Refusing to say anything else, she gritted her teeth and pushed with all her might, kicking all the while. What she knew the blonde couldn’t see from her perch was that the dinosaur had caught up to her while they both struggled, and had grabbed hold of her calf with its sharp claws. Suddenly, she was glad for the long leather boots that, only moments before, she’d been cursing.

As the creature went for Rebecca again, Fiona grabbed the staff and whacked it as hard as she could over the head. It turned on her for a moment, but before it could do anything, Rebecca kicked it in the face. Taking advantage of the opportunity she’d just created, she stood on the hungry animal’s head and pushed off. At last, she was seated on the rough limb, with the deinonychus just barely out of reach. Gasping desperately for air as she turned and clung to Audrey, she glanced down at the bewildered creature and managed a breathless “thanks!” The moment Rebecca was safely out of reach, Fiona crept along the branch and headed for a different one. The tree was old and strong, but the three of them in the same spot could easily snap the branch and send them right to the dinosaur’s clutches.

Once she settled on another perch, they sat there for a moment, contemplating their luck, both good and bad, and watching the hungry animal watch them. All three knew that with a little effort, the thing could probably reach the two on the lower branch with those lethal, powerful jaws. Since it had clearly not yet figured this out, none of them really cared. Audrey was exhausted and sore, the entirety of her plump body throbbing unbearably now that adrenaline had begun to flee her as she had fled the dinosaur. Fiona was desperately trying to get her breath back, and though she felt fine otherwise, she knew she’d feel like she’d been hit by a bus in the morning. Rebecca, too, was exhausted and sore, though the pain in her muscles and joints hadn’t yet registered. Her gaze shifted from the restless animal to the long jagged tears in the back of her skirt, which she studied with a sort of numb, detached fascination.

“Well,” she said finally, still scarcely able to breathe. “That was exhilarating.”

Fiona laughed.

“Exhilarating?” Audrey gaped at her. “Are you fucking kidding me? We just almost became something’s soon-to-be-fossilized lunch!”

Shrugging, Rebecca glanced down at the prehistoric lizard…bird…thing. And suddenly she felt pity for it, and all the living things around them. After a long silence, during which the deinonychus finally lost interest and stormed off in search of easier prey, she finally murmured, “We survived, didn’t we? That’s more than anything else in this time period can say.” Where were its companions? The question bubbled up out of nowhere, and once formed, refused to be dismissed. She'd heard it call to someone, and heard an answer... Or had she? Had she imagined it all?

“We don’t belong in this time period!” Audrey's reply startled her out of her confused reverie. Her voice was shrill, expression aghast as she stared at the other woman as if she’d lost her mind. Perhaps that was obvious. For a second, she considered that maybe shehad gone mad, and this whole nightmarish situation was just a scene playing out in her ever-overactive imagination.

Then she shifted, and the ankle she’d twisted when she tripped on a rock sent a twinge of pain up her leg. The idea of any of this being anything less than horribly, undeniably real was scrapped, and she glanced around. She would merely search for makeshift supplies, she decided. She would rewrite Rebecca’s stupid spell, and get them back to the present. If this experience was meant to teach them anything, she was sure it was that the past can’t be changed, which she was suddenly ready to accept as Gospel truth. Life sucked, but they could make it better if they just focused less on whining about it, and more on actually doing something about it.

A strange weight on her mind drew her from her thoughts and she turned to look. Rebecca was staring at her.

Huffing a bit, she gestured to her shredded clothing. “That’s going to get infected. You’ll probably die before the week is out.”

“Thanks, Captain Optimism,” the other woman growled, rolling her eyes.

“We don’t have anything to wrap it with!” she snapped, interrupting her friend’s attempt to assure her that she was fine.

“I can rip something if you want,” Fiona offered, gesturing to her clothes.

“We have no idea what’s poisonous and what’s not,” Audrey continued to rant as if the other young woman hadn’t spoken, “We’re about sixty-five million years away from peroxide, never mind penicillin. And all of this is assuming you just get some kind of nasty infection. Every carnivore with at least one nostril can probably smell all that blood for miles. If we don’t get the hell back to modern times, you are going to die!”

To shut her up, Rebecca sighed and reached down, shoving her torn skirt out of the way to show the long scratches across her boot. She could see them alright through the slashes in her skirt, but clearly Audrey was less observant. “I’m not bleeding, genius. He was aiming to grab, not gut; he didn’t get through the leather.” She gestured, but wasn’t the least bit surprised when Audrey only shook her head and looked away.

“I’m just worried about you,” she whispered, much more subdued as the fight slowly drained from her. “You got lucky this time, but as long as we stay here, we’re in danger every second, from everything.”

As if only just then remembering that Fiona was there, she whipped around and stared up over her shoulder at her. "And how the hell are you still corporeal? How were you ever in the first place? I mean, nice to meet you, I guess? But what the actual fuck is going on?!"

[shoichee]

Oblivious!reader as Aomine’s Crush

May I request for an HC or Fic, you can choose, of like…Aomine’s crush is like the MOST OBLIVIOUS person and at least the same year as sakurai. Daiki teases them to be flirty but they think he hates them so they go to basketball practice crying looking for ryo because aomine “hates” them but daiki just butts in and tells them in frustraition? If only you’re okay with it though hahahaha

@thirsthourdemon hi!! sorry it took so long woooo thank you for stopping by this blog and sorry it took so long D:

Oblivious!reader x Aomine Daiki

[Headcanons]

Note: as much as my head is FILLED with the urge to write a fic, my uni classes said “hell no.”

so you can be a bit dense and while Aomine finds it really really cute at first…

endearing and cute… only for the first few weeks he’s tried to make a somewhat attempt to hit on you ever since he saw you smiling at your class president in the hallways

but after that,,,, well,,,,,,,,

you were very close friends with Sakurai, his mild, but responsible personality meshing perfectly well with your slightly airheaded personality

what does that mean? well, you would sit on the benches to watch Sakurai practice while you were either A.) doing your homework and being absolutely oblivious to the curious (or less than decent) stares or B.) eating Sakurai’s extra bentos he would sometimes pack that day because you would sometimes forget your own

this doesn’t bode well for Aomine, especially since he ditches practice 24/7 and every time he tries to look for you after school, he could never find you for some reason

until he showed up to practice that one time to steal an octo-dog from Sakurai’s bento when he saw you talking with the coach, trying to earnestly learn more about the sport

ohohohoho, his smirk grew and he’s having the wildest ideas in trying to get your attention

*proceeds to rip off the entire backboard and glances to your figure to see you wide-eyed*

*also waits outside the gym with a confused Momoi until everyone except you and Sakurai leave*

Aomine also tells Momoi to scram, also subtly glares at Sakurai

both leave but both give each other the look before they both hide behind the bushes to eavesdrop

there was no way in hell Sakurai would leave you alone to Aomine, even if he was someone who wasn’t confrontational

Momoi, on the other hand, even if she was pissed he name-called her, didn’t trust him to be on his own devices, especially with someone as sweet as you

“So you’re the one Wakamatsu has been ranting about,” you said tilting your head up as you took in Aomine’s appearances for the first time

“Huh? Yeah I guess,” he flippantly grumbled, scratching the back of his head as he averted his gaze away

you gasped, bringing Aomine’s (and the eavesdroppers’) attention back to you

“Wha…? Where’s Ryo?”

“…” - everyone right now

as you cluelessly look around your surroundings, Aomine steps forward to clasp your wrist and slightly tug you towards him to get your attention back on him

“Tch, forget about him for a second.” Aomine makes a harsh frown before remembering that he was supposed to make a good impression

your eyes curiously dropped to his hand on your wrist

“Aomine-san… Is there something wrong with my wrist?”

“Huh?? No, obviously not you idi—(y/n)—” he coughs out in an attempt to cover up his mishap but you don’t seem to notice

“Wahhhh, I have to look for Ryo!” you said, your brows furrowing. “He’s probably waiting for me right now! Ah, I’ll see you later, Aomine-san!”

and you dash from Aomine, breaking free from his loose clutch on you

Aomine just stands there dumbly, watching you until you leave his sight before he kicks the dirt in irritation

meanwhile, Sakurai leaves the bushes to chase after you and Momoi huffs as she stomps to him, pushing Aomine from behind

“Ow—what the hell?”

“Mou—I can’t believe it! You can’t just treat everyone like that!”

“Hah? You never nagged me about this before. Besides, don’t you people like that kinda stuff?”

“Ugh, Aho-mine! You lack delicacy! You have to be romantic and sweet if you like the person—!”

“Who says I like (y/n)?”

“It was as clear as day, stupid!”

meanwhile…

Sakurai is gently scolding you for getting yourself into a “possibly scary” situation although you don’t really get it

“What’s scary about Aomine?”

“E-e-eh?? Lots, (f/n)!! Did you not see him beat up Wakamatsu-san and rip off the hoop??”

“Well, I dunno, Ryo…” you started. “He seems out there, but I think he’s a nice guy.”

“That’s what you say to every person you meet.”

“Hmpf! Not everyone,” you pouted

“Just… just be careful, okay?… I worry for you…”

…

for the two weeks, it was a pattern of Aomine waiting for you outside the gym after every practice, while Momoi and Sakurai begrudgingly hiding to eavesdrop, ready to intervene if needed

that said, both are inwardly cringing at Aomine’s attempts at “flirting” while everything just seems to fly over your head as you blink and politely smile

“You’re not half-bad looking, y’know?”

“So who’s the other ‘half-bad’?”

“What?”

“What?”

You would tilt your head innocently at a flustered but frustrated Aomine

if you listen hard enough, you could hear a loud worried sigh and an “Ahomine!” from a distance

or another day:

“So there’s a movie at 5 tomorrow, and I got an extra ticket. Wanna go?”

“Don’t you have Momoi?”

“She has practice.”

“Don’t you have practice, too?”

“….”

or another day:

he decided to take Momoi’s advice in being more “forward” but showing enough romantic gestures to get the point across… but the only thing he could settle on without getting too sappy was the kabedon

“A-Aomine-san! What’s wrong? Can you stand properly? Do you need to go to the—”

“Shut up already, (y/n),” he drawled, before he tried to lean in closer to your face…

but then you slapped your hand to his forehead and leaned even closer to his face to try to feel his temperature

oh, but your lips—too close—too close—help—

“Oh no! You are burning up!”

Aomine was ready to faint right there and then

…

“You need to tell her and be honest, Dai-chan!”

“Shut up, Satsuki. Non’ya business.”

“It is, Aho-mine!” she huffed. “(y/n)-chan is my friend too!”

he groans as he sits up from his napping position at the rooftop before he stretches his limbs and walks to the gym

…

“Aomine-san! You’re coming to practice today?” you turned to the blue-haired ace at the doorway in surprise

“Nope, I’m sleeping.”

“Huh?”

he languidly walks to your side to steal your onigiri

“Wha—?”

“Thanks for the food, shortie.”

“Ah?”

and he gives your head a few firm taps before he leaves the gym before a Momoi unceremoniously bursts into the room, wheezing

“Is Dai-chan here?…”

you shake your head “no” in response, still in a stupor at processing what just happened, and Momoi just dashes back outside to track him down

…

“A-Aomine-san!” your fingers barely grazed the pencil as he held it up way above his own head. “Could you please… give that back?”

“You can get it back if you manage to get it,” he said, with a mischievous smirk on his face

“Wh-why meee?” you whined, as your breath shortens out of exertion

“You’re the only one who could cure my boredom.”

“Aho-mine! Give it back to (y/n)-chan!”

“Tch, fine…”

…

yeah, he’s just been calling you various names, stealing things and taunting you to get it back by running FULL SPEED IN THE HALLWAYS, knowing FULL WELL YOU COULD NEVER CATCH UP

“Dai-chan, can you stop messing with (y/n)-chan? You’re so childish, sheesh!”

“Didn’t you say to be honest? They’re short, right? And I’m just playing with (y/n). You know that.”

Momoi wants to kill him right there and then

“Ugh! I swear, you’re so dumb! We might know you don’t mean these things, but does (y/n)-chan know? Besides, you’re not being honest with your feelings to them at all! Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

…

“Ryo,” you sniffled to him one day. “Do you think Aomine hates me?”

“W-well, as much as I stay away from him… If he hated anyone he would make sure they know it…”

“I knew it! Was it something I said?” you gasped. “Maybe I’m the reason why he never went to practice. Maybe my presence annoys him—”

and you’re ready to break down in the middle of the hallways at the possibility of having someone hate you because of your obliviousness to your own insensitivity

“N-no! (f/n)-san, it’s not that!” Sakurai uncharacteristically firmly says. “Why don’t you talk to him to sort it out?… I’ll walk you to him but…”

despite your reluctance, you figured it was the best course of action, and you were determined to at least apologize to him

well, you were until you turned around and walked smack dab into the touou ace

as you rub your nose to ease the pain and look up to the person, ready to apologize, you freeze

uh oh, did he hear the entire thing?

you mad dashed to the opposite direction but he immediately chases after you, leaving a concerned Sakurai in the dust

of course, you were no match for his long legs his agility and you were soon tackled by him when you were both outside the classroom buildings

as he tackled you, he cradled you into his arms as he twisted his body to take the brunt of the fall

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I’ll get off right no—”

he fully locked his lips onto yours

“Shut up, already.” he frowns before continuing, “I never hated you, stupid.”

“You… don’t?”

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue in irritation but he still pulled your cheek affectionately

“O-ow! Why don’t you go… to practice then?”

in response, he sighs and says, “it’s a long story, but I’ll tell you at Maji Burger… how’s that sound?”

“O-oh! I didn’t bring money today!”

“I meant as a date. You, me. Between us. As a romantic thing.”

“R-r-romantic!?”

“Do I have to spell it out?” he sighs loudly. “I like you, shortie.”

“H-hey!”

[belit0]

Sibling Issues

Chap 2

Rating: E

Pairing: [Uchiha Madara / Uchiha Izuna / Fem Reader]

TW: nope

[DON'T HATE ME OMG THIS HAS BEEN ON MY MIND AND I HAD TO WRITE IT laufuekwslak]

Madara has always been perverse with his punishments, profoundly enjoying the sight of you suffering in front of his eyes, witnessing your despair to an almost maddening extent. It is not as if you had something to complain about, being tied up and over-stimulated to the limit of frustration by a man like him seemed like a dream, and every time you felt his expert fingers wandering through the scars he created in your skin, you wondered if your relationship with the Uchiha was not purely a charming fantasy.

That's how you felt at that moment, imprisoned in bed, naked and bound by hands and legs. With your limbs forced to stay apart by ropes, it is your man who watches you from his intimidating height, standing in front of you, rejoicing in your humiliation.

Gagged with your panties, you cannot speak or beg for mercy, for knowing him, you know that something heavy is coming, even considering the torture he has been inflicting on you for the past thirty minutes. How did you end up in this situation? You refused to accompany him to his meeting with Hashirama this morning, as the previous night was filled with passion and rudeness on his part, and you really needed to sleep. Of course he did not take your disobedience well, and no opportunity escapes Madara to punish you when you are a bad girl.

Crossed arms in front of the bed, wearing a black turtleneck shirt, with his hair pulled up in a ponytail and ready to leave again, he observes you with malice. In one of his hands, a black vibrator is off, glowing with your fresh fluids because it has been recently removed from you. He's only wearing gloves on one of his hands, and it's the one he's not holding the object he's using to tease you.

"Now, [Y/N], I'd love to stay and play with that sweet, tight pussy of yours, but I've been summoned by the elders of the Clan to a private meeting. You have 10 seconds to cum, otherwise you will remain tied up until my return."

Flushed and on the verge of tears, you did your best in begging him to take you, as the constant stimulus he had been applying to you for the past half hour was too much, and you could no longer bear it. In fact, you weren't even sure you could concentrate enough to cum with the speed he was demanding.

The incoherence of your words, which were suffocated by the fabric of your underwear, and the drool that fell from your mouth because of the inability to close it completely, only made Madara laugh in front of you, sending even more heat to your lower body and a feeling of deep humiliation to the whole situation.

This man delights in throwing you low.

"Keep quiet, are we clear?"

Approaching your dripping cunt again, he turned on the vibrator, while slowly positioning himself between your legs. He travelled all over your skin with the moving object, rubbing all areas of your body and purposely avoiding your clitoris. Staring into your eyes, the devilish grin on his face was unable to wipe off his features, enjoying your helplessness and cravings, the need to feel pleasure and liberation once and for all.

When a tear escaped from one of your eyes, he decided he could give you what you finally deserved, and without warning, he directed the vibrator that was slowly massaging your nipples towards your pussy, pressing it directly on your sensitive pearl, watching you with expectant eyes.

Your back curved upwards, while you pressed your hips towards him, seeking even more support and contact with the object that would give you your long-awaited orgasm. Your eyes inevitably closed, and your mouth opened in an incredible way, making your underwear go even deeper into it.

“1… 2… 3…”

In the face of Madara's hasty account, you remembered with effort his warning, and made your greatest effort to direct your mind to the greatest point of pleasure, even without being able to move your legs or arms.

"4... 5... 6... such an obedient little whore..."

At the compliment of your man, the motivation you really needed appeared, and you could feel the much-awaited moment finally arrive.

“7… 8… 9…”

And before he could reach the end of the count, one of your best orgasms hit your senses, causing your whole body to shake and your limbs to seek compression against your figure, protecting your sensitive clitoris from the abusive prolonged sensation of the vibrator.

When he saw that you met his demand, he walked away from you and removed the object, took the panties from your mouth and gave you water to drink.

"Well done [Y/N], I expected nothing less from you... but I regret to inform you this is not enough."

"W-Wha-at?"

"You abandoned me all alone with Hashirama and his delusions of worldly friendship all morning. Did you think such a modest punishment would save you, doll?"

"Madara please!"

He took your jaw with his gloved hand, exerting a slight pressure to open your mouth, and pushed the same underwear back into your cavity. A muffled scream escaped your mouth in surprise, which the Uchiha easily silenced with a slap on your thigh.

Leaving you tied up, he turned on the vibrator again, and there you understood the worst was what you were about to face. He pushed the object deep inside you, wiped his fluid-soaked hand on a towel, arranged his clothes and put on the missing glove.

"I'll take my time; I expect to return and find you a mess."

You couldn't even think of an answer, as the pleasure and sensitivity your body was experiencing at the same time was too much to concentrate on anything else.

With a firm step and completely unconcerned with your condition, Madara disappeared out the door of the room, while his steps were heard increasingly faint in the corridor. A second later, the front door opened before closing again, leaving you alone in front of Uchiha's mansion.

Your figure twisted in bed, thanking every orgasm caused by the vibrator inside you and trying to cooperate with the over-stimulation, forcing the ropes that kept you tied up, trembling at every sensation and movement, your skin bristling and your eyes watering from such torture.

So abstracted were you in your world of self-indulgence that you did not hear the front door open and close again.

Nor did you hear the footsteps outside the room.

Nor did you hear the voice of a man who was not Madara asking if everything was okay.

Reality hit you again when your reddish eyes met those of Uchiha Izuna, who, for some reason unrelated to you, was at your house, at your bedroom door, witnessing the kinks you and your man shared.

"...I-I... I-I... shouldn't b-be here..."

As the Uchiha was about to leave, the vibrator touched a key point inside you, making you scream loud and deeply while another orgasm was released into your body. The muffled moans caught his attention, and the way your body contorted itself mesmerized him into an inexplicable spell.

Awakening from the enchantment of your figure, Izuna realized that his Sharingan had been activated, and that in his memory now lay engraved the intimate moment of you reaching your peak of pleasure. Ashamed of himself for even having such thoughts with his brother's partner, he walked over to the bed, and removed the garment that prevented you from speaking.

"I'm sorry [Y/N] I'll leave you alone and..."

"PLEASE IZUNA HELP ME."

Stupefied by his uselessness and feeling guilty about your clear suffering, the Uchiha tried to regain his composure and not let himself be carried away by the image in front of him.

"S-Sure! Just... just tell me what I have to do."

"UNTIE MY HANDS."

Obeying your demands, he quickly released your two wrists, having to lean slightly over you to untie the one at the other end of the bed. When you regained movement, something fierce took hold of your mind, and the fact of having another Uchiha in front of you, belonging to Madara's family, no less than his little brother, set your senses on fire even more.

Taking him by the hair with force, you made his face bend towards you, brutally bumping his lips against yours. Izuna found himself reluctant to reciprocate the kiss at first, but when your tongue slipped over his lips in hunger and need, his mouth opened without hesitation and devoured you with the same intensity.

Separating slightly and for a second, you managed to look him in the eye and tell him.

"Please fuck me Izuna."

"Shit, if you ask like that."

He quickly positioned himself between your legs, and rapidly Dropping your almost numb extremities on the mattress, you watched as he removed the vibrator from your interior, moaning at every centimeter of the object.

In the blink of an eye, his clothes lay forgotten somewhere in the room, and a hardened limb stood in front of your entrance. Aligning himself with you, his thrust was sharp and direct, penetrating you mercilessly.

He leaned over you, hiding his face in the hollow of your neck and biting into your skin, while your legs locked around his waist to feel him completely within you. Your hands became entangled in his hair, and soon you found yourself undoing his ponytail so you could pull his strands more easily.

His breaths became agitated, short and deep, arousing you even more, to the point where you thought it was no longer possible to receive stimulation. His muscles above you tensed with every movement of his hip, and with your tightened eyes, you breathed in his male scent with despair.

"I'm going to... ah... fuck you so well... shit... that you'll forget... his name... Kami... you're so tight [Y/N]"

"I-Izuna-a -gasp- I'm c-com-ming -gasp-"

Upon hearing your response, his thrusts took on a new speed, an almost overwhelming pace for your labored body, making you reach the last orgasm of the night with just a few moves. You felt his cum spread inside you, covering your walls with that warm liquid, and your mind was delighted with satisfaction.

Until you realized what had really happened.

And when Izuna came down from his orgasm, he couldn't help but feel less guilty than you.

"[Y/N]... what... what have we done..."

[rosecolouredmind]

Savior

Nicholas Scratch x Reader

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Part Three:

The Broken Boy

Now there were two.

Or at least, the only sounds being made now were the quiet sobs still being let out from the poor figure now in front of you.

You’d sent Lucifer away with a banishment sigil, though with how powerful he was and your lack of familiarity with your domain, he should be back soon. You felt a lot more drained than you did when you first came in, the spell taking a lot out of you. You now realized that your visit came with a time limit, and would only last as long as the remaining energy in your core did. The flesh acheron had you currently separated from the stars, so it was only natural that your power was unable to replenish itself here.

But at least, now you were alone with the boy.

You exerted a bit more power to make the space a more welcoming, eliminating the eerie red scenery in exchange for something milder. An endless white replaced it in a flash; you weren’t exactly a living human for long and didn’t know much about what comforted them, you realized glumly.

It seemed as if they boy didn’t notice the change in scenery, failing to even flinch. Back and forth, back and forth. He endlessly rocked as mumbled jargon poured listlessly from his mouth. Though it isn’t your first time pitying humans, this was the first time that you were face to face with the cruelty Fate was capable of. The sentiment fed into your growing discomfort with the situation.

Cautiously, you drew closer. Once you stopped in front of him, you slowly lowered yourself until you were truly able to look him in the face.

Dampened hair stuck to his forehead, pale and leaking a cold sweat. Raised goosebumps clearly visible over taught muscles were felt under your fingertips, gently stroking his arm in comfort.

A sharp gasp and a quick hand nearly made you yelp out in shock yourself, your wrist now held in a tight grasp. Panicked eyes met your own, dark and deep and boding. You felt your very soul tremble as if it were crying, as if you were crying.

It wasn’t until you noticeably felt a liquid drop culminate at the tip of your nose before splattering did you realize that you were.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you cooed, attempting to make eye contact. 

Your gaze meets frantic mirrors of desperation, anguish and torture reflecting in the muddy pools that stared back at you. 

As if it was natural to you, your hands rise to caress his face. His skin feels warm beneath your fingers, and you hold back a shudder. Concentrating, you focused deep on the constant thrumming of your soul and willed your core to mimic these pulsations through your body and out your fingertips, your hands now glowing the color of moonlight.

You can’t undo what Lucifer has done and possibly will do to him, but you were confident that you could make your presence a beacon and relieve some of the burden for him.

The boy leaned into your hands, and for a long while you just watched entranced as his eyelids fluttered while he took the time he needed to calm down. Finally, he looked up at you. The panic had now been replaced with sheer exhaustion, and you wanted nothing more than to protect him.

“Who are you?” he croaked, eyes flooding in tears. They flowed silently down his face, following familiar track marks of the rivers before them. His fingers tightened around yours, afraid of letting go. Afraid that if he let go, you would disappear. This was the first time he felt relief in what felt like an eternity, and all he could focus on was the figure in front him. You paid no mind to his tight grip, electing to settle yourself between his knees, getting as close as you possibly could.

“I’m here to help you, it’s okay,” you repeat softly.

“Wh-where did he go? The...the Dark Lord,” he quivered, muscles tensing up at the mere thought of the man. You felt your heart go out to him, your own eyes becoming misty as well.

“I sent him...away. He will return, but not for a while at least.”

Of course you couldn’t separate them completely, this was still in part Lucifer’s mind as well, and you had an inkling that although this wasn’t the actual place, the flesh acheron, this boy’s body, was somewhere in Hell. Your energies felt off, as if they didn’t belong. That would normally only happen in a territory outside of the scope of a stela’s domain, and Hell fit that description perfectly.

Your powers weren’t nearly as strong here, and you could only offer him temporary reprieve. But it is something, and that’s all that matters.

“What’s your name?” you question, intending on keeping him present and away from the dark, straying thoughts no doubt threatening to plague his mind. He stayed silent for a while, attempting to anchor himself while he focused on the near healing effect you radiated.

“...It’s Nick,” he eventually responded.

“Okay, Nick, tell me. What makes you happy?”

Nick thought for a long while, but couldn’t gather his thoughts. His mind had been ravaged so thoroughly by the Dark Lord that any notions of happiness had long since been replaced by terrors he could only have imagined before being tortured by Satan himself. He started to shake his head, then more and more vigorously. You reached for his face again, realizing your question set off another round of panic.

“That’s okay Nick, you don’t have to think about it. How about we go somewhere that makes me happy instead, hm?”

Your creativity and knowledge of the human mind was close to zero, but there was once place you’d always wanted to see.

You had Nick close his eyes as you closed your own, visualizing the sights and sounds you wanted to experience. Soon, the soothing crash of waves could be heard in the background, your eyes opening to an expanse of sand being gently eroded by the clear blue water of the ocean. You felt a bit weaker at the manifestation, but the boy in your arms was even more so, and your heart went out to him.

You shifted yourself so Nick’s forehead was now resting on your chest, giving him all the time he needed to settle before he opened his eyes again.

His breathing was deeper now, and less erratic. You waited for it to become completely even before you attempted to speak again, Nick lifting his head in order to study your features.

“I’ve always wanted to see the ocean,” you sigh gently. “I wasn’t able to when I was human.”

“Why not?” he asked quizzically, resulting in a smile from you. You were glad he was speaking, and continued to talk before he got distracted again.

“I died very, very young. I hadn’t really even started my life before the Fates took me for their purpose,” you explained. “And after that, well, I never really thought I’d see Earth again so there wasn’t much of a point.”

You tried coaxing more out of him, like his name, likes, dislikes. His answers were simple, and he had to think about some a lot longer than others, but he put effort into answering each question. You continued to describe your ties to fate to him as he patiently listened. He nodded along thoughtfully, before going quiet again.

“Nick?” you question, worry laced in your tone.

“Is this really what Fate had planned for me?” he asked quietly, looking down at his knees. Tears instantly blurred your vision once again, but you didn’t acknowledge them.

“No, sweetie, of course not,” you grab his face once again. His watery eyes mirror yours, yet you refused to let the first one fall.

“Your fate is so much more than this. This is only temporary. You have to believe me on that.” you urge.

“But I’m tired,” the sheer amount of hopelessness emitted off him in waves. “I don’t think I can make it,” the break in his voice was enough to collapse the dam on your tears, and you clutched him to your chest.

“No, baby, no. You can. You’re strong. I’ll be here for you. I’ll come back.”

“You promise?” he cracked.

“I promise.”

You held him for a while longer, shushing him against the rumble of the waves as you stared out at the water. You���d never felt more determined to do something in your life, but you will save this boy. You meant it with your heart and soul.

A while later you felt your figure start to fade, and you knew your borrowed time in Hell had reached its end. Nick frantically began clutching at you, using one hand to caress your face like you had his, “Will you really come back?”

Begging eyes pinned your soul down and for the first time in your life, you cursed the fates. Cursed how they could allow this boy to suffer far more than he deserved, and put you in a position to witness it. No one deserved this. Not even the fickle humans. If they were meant to suffer like this...

Maybe this was what you were sent to Earth for.

Visiting the flesh acheron, and by extension, Hell, for as long as you have took not only your power, but the power of the fates as well. If you came here again, it wouldn’t be for nearly as long, and would exhaust a huge chunk of power every time you did so. But as you face the boy in front of you, you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him.

You’d figure it out, you’d make something up, you’d lie; Tell them Lucifer was being an uncooperative dickhead, which isn’t exactly wrong anyway — anything to be able to make your way here again.

You had to.

With a few more whispered promises and broken sobs, you eventually fade away. It wasn’t until you noticed the sandy shore beneath you had been replaced with slowly moving constellations did you allow yourself to look up again, the impatient eyes of the council piercing through you.

You’d already gotten rid of any trace of tears, your mind going a million miles a minute conjuring up a plan to save Nick. You knew you had bigger priorities than one human, a single soul; Earth and her millions of souls were on the brink of annihilation yet all you could think about was one boy.

But something in you, deep in your core screamed that this was important to you, he is important to you.

Maybe it's because you’re soft, maybe it’s because he’s your first lost soul, maybe it's because it’s Fate, but as you waved an intricate web of truth and lies while you built your case with the council -- of how freeing Lucifer from the flesh acheron was of the utmost importance, of how often you’d probably need to be sent there to attempt to do so;

Your heart was nearly pounding through your ribcage at the thought of seeing that boy and his pitiful soul once again.

And as Lucifer, upon his return, ranted and roared and raged something mighty, Nick desperately held on in anticipation of your next arrival.

*

Author’s Note: Next part is out as well! They’re both shorter chapters so I did a double update as well. They would have been out a lot sooner if tumblr didn’t delete my damn editing progress when I tried to insert a photo — I nearly cried. Creating those secondary headers is WERK but not as much as editing this shit? I should sue. I got mad and stopped for a while bc I’m a petty bitch, so if you see mistakes blame Tumblr for crashing. I will also insert links to chapters later, I don’t feel like it currently 🤡

Please ask to be tagged! I’d appreciate reblogs, comments and asks as well 🥺

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@insomniac-nerd-posts-things @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @sophia-of-sass-gard

[ahwait-no-yes]

so basically my friend told me today about her dream she had that involved a demon and of course my mind went “...SAIOU AU”

here’s our convo so it makes sense:

if I had the motivation i would DEFINITELY write a fic about this- the fluff/crack/angst potential is t h e r e

and as a bonus doodle,

story is under the cut (it’s long)

“I was gonna keep this in tags but hsdf;j” is what I originally wrote here until I started thinking about this more and sorta wrote the whole plot-

-> as ouma’s killing the other monster things he flirts with shuuichi while the poor demon has never been flirted with so he’s stood there all confused and ??? (his version of blushing would be like, the fire coming from his small horns gets bigger and brighter)

-> the one he summons ends up being like. kaede and they both just end up having to lecture shuuichi on why it is that he should not want to die so easily

-> eventually kokichi and kaede wanna give him a hug so they try to but shuuichi’s Extra Hot™ (from being a demon and also probably blushing) so they both immediately regret that choice but kokichi laughs and gives an obligatory pun about shuuichi being hot which only confuses him because ‘of course im hot?? im a demon??’ while kaede explains what ouma meant

-> imagine shuuichi crying (fire tears..) at the generosity of these two strangers who a) aren’t absolutely terrified of him, b) refuse to hurt him and c) actually *want* to help him and ouma actually inwardly understanding a little bc he’d never imagine someone actually wanting to be with himself either

-> saihara now wanting to know what it’s like to live as a human with ouma and akamatsu but being unable to find a way (except for maybe being undercover?) but promising he’ll bring ouma back to him (he’s aware of the whole aging phenomenon in the lil demon world so he wants to keep their time short) and ouma finding that now he has something to look forward to

-> the 👏 mutual 👏 pining 👏 that commences after they both have to leave each other (if kaede knows kokichi in the real world she’d definitely tease him a little knowing he has a crush- this is probably good potential for building oumaede friendship)

-> it takes a while before ouma and saihara can see eachother again because getting the two to escape without killing saihara exerted a lot of energy on him, but they do get to! about once a month to be safe, and they get to know stuff about eachother like which shops ouma likes to steal from and shuuichi’s really loud demon friend he once had (aka momota)

-> one day though saihara tells ouma that if he keeps doing this he’ll die of exhaustion (it takes a lot of energy from saihara to get ouma in and out of there) and ouma calling him an idiot but really being worried. saihara tells him not to worry about him even if something happens to him, and makes ouma go back to the real world

-> ouma doesn’t hear from him after that

-> he worries he might have been killed or saihara forgot about him and feels stupid for being so hopeful in something so childishly impossible and starts trying to forget about him

-> the real world is aware of demons cause people talk about them (and obvs you can tell when someone’s gone to their.. dimension thing because you can visibly see them age) so still denying that he’s curious and likes saihara still, ouma tries to go to libraries and do his own research on demons and ends up finding out that saihara specifically comes from a bloodline that makes him quite powerful if not for that he wouldnt want to take the risks that come with it and then lowkey gets excited again for saihara while still in ✨denial ✨

-> it’s been almost a year when saihara has enough energy (and more) to ensure that his new plan is successfully carried out and that ouma (and potentially 1 more..) gets back to the real world safely. he created this plan when he figured out how to exist in the real world- by sacrificing the thing he cares most about

-> so when ouma suddenly gets that off-feeling people get when they’re leaving the real world he feels very many emotions at once (giddily going ”ohh my god its not this it cant be this no way oh heck tthisis not happening not a chance”) until he sees the face he’s been waiting 4 months for again except this time it looks.. frighteningly cold

-> ouma’s instincts are screaming at him that something is very, very wrong here especially when he can’t hear any warmth when saihara says “Welcome back, Ouma. It’s your final time” and explains the whole ‘kill these monsters then kill me’ thing again

-> ouma’s confusion inevitably turns to annoyance as he kills the dudes (there appears to be a lot more than there was last time) and fires questions at saihara (‘is this saihara?’ ‘what happened to you??’ ‘do you even remember me?’) while saihara stays silent for the whole time thinking about how he really doesn’t want to be doing this. 

-> eventually ouma decides he was wrong (again) to have put his faith in a guy- a demon- he only met once a month.. even if said demon gave him something to look forward to

-> when he finally gets to saihara alone he internally notes that saihara cant look him in the eye, but he finally speaks to tell ouma that now either himself or ouma will now die (saihara knows this is for sake of the sacrifice, but he can’t let ouma know else it won’t work)

-> ouma refuses to fight him again, expecting saihara to snap back into the meek demon from a year and some months ago, but rather than that happening saihara actually says something like “if you won’t kill me, I’ll have to kill you” and swings at him

-> even if ouma was on his full guard, he still would’ve been surprised by how strong saihara actually could be when he tried to fight- and of course saihara can’t stop now that he’s started but ouma hears the hesitation when saihara asks “are you going to kill me yet?” and gets annoyed that the whole time he spent with him and even akamatsu meant nothing. saihara smiles sadly knowing he’s achieving his goal but ouma thinks he’s smiling at the thought of dying and gets somehow even more annoyed

-> during their whole fight, insert “I’m alone, Ouma, and I will always be” line from saihara, “No amount of talking can convince me otherwise, Ouma. I’m sorry it took so long, but it was foolish of you to trust a demon you met only once” or something and yes it hurts saihara too but ouma’s staying silent and before saihara can continue, ouma fires back with “You’re right- you are meant to be alone. You were always meant to be that kind of guy” and stops dodging to start finally attacking- this is when saihara knows he’s pretty much achieved his target: sacrificing ouma’s trust in him

-> just as ouma swipes at him, saihara’s lil spell thing is activated that takes saihara back to the real world, disguised so people don’t see him as a demon. but now ouma thinks he’s just killed saihara (I just attacked him. and he is gone. i dont know what that light was but i must have just killed him. oh my god im a murderer.”)

-> saihara hiding in the forest to do the lil spell thing again but on ouma (all the time he spent saving on energy was worth it) so ouma gets transported to the real world too and immediately runs to tell akamatsu everything that happened

-> saihara trying to find to blend in with humans from what he remembers of how they act but he doesnt need to particularly eat he just needs a heck ton of sleep so he basically just lives in the forest now. he’s very sensitive to water so he actively stays away from it too (it wont kill him but it does make him sick). he’s still feverishly warm but not scalding and he also decides to work at a store to fit in more

-> ouma regretting what he did to saihara even though saihara hurt him first and realising he misses him

-> saihara ends up accidentally bumping into him at the store he works at that ouma conveniently steals from a lot (”Ouma, you’d make a good demon” “Nishishi! What do you mean? I’m a perfect little angel!”) and saihara gasping when he notices ouma’s unforgettable purple hair and cute smile.

-> ouma finding something familiar about this awkward new staff with the cute face and deciding he’ll visit the shop more often to see this stranger and not because said stranger might help him get over his demon crush

-> then they get to know eachother again for the 2nd time, and as much as this guy is really cute, he clearly knows more than he’s letting on... so of course ouma’s gotta now pay even more attention to him. just so he knows what the guy’s hiding. not cause he wants to know him.

-> one day saihara is sick from trying to protect himself from the rain (cause yk, water bad) so he stays in the forest instead of coming in to focus his energy on getting better and also not blowing his cover. ouma notices he isnt there on that day and asks other staff members where he lives and they’re all like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

-> it rains quite a bit after that, inevitably making saihara even more sick and in turn needing time away to himself, so ouma starts getting worried when saihara stops coming to work

-> saihara really wants to see him though, so one day he tries to drag himself to work in a terrible state where he’s actually almost cold for once and collapses after trying to run to ouma. ouma sees him and tells his manager he cant work nd takes him home himself where saihara wakes up confused

-> ouma lecturing saihara because he worried him and the way he fell reminded him of.. someone (demon shuu).. then he asks vague questions to saihara about if he’s ever met a demon and half-confesses to having met one himself multiple times and ending up falling in love and then probably killing them

-> saihara, in his tired state, tells him his story of how he was raised to believe he had no purpose other than to meet someone who would kill him, eventually finding that person but instead of looking at him with fear or anger he looked at him with admiration and playfulness, how the guy meant to kill him refused to and flirted w him instead. ouma has probably clicked on by this point but saihara continues to tell him he wanted to protect that guy with the power he had so he took time away from his first ‘job’ to find out how to be with him. saihara is probably shaking at this point while he continues telling him about how he found out he had to sacrifice the most important thing to him, so he “went and had a terrible argument with him one day and i ran away. but i’ve never stopped looking for him since, he showed me that even a demon like me can fall in love” (there’s the ✨grand confession ✨)

-> ouma saw it coming from the moment saihara started speaking, but that didnt stop him from being utterly paralysed. of COURSE saihara has to say “When I said you’d make a good demon I really wasn’t lying. Your hand is so warm it could fool even me” which possibly makes ouma completely combust before absolutely bolting out the door and calling akamatsu to tell her to get to his house (”AKAMATSU-CHAN I’M GONNA DIE RIGHT NOW IF YOU DON’T GET HERE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT THIS SECOND”)

-> while waiting for kaede, shuuichi explains that he needs to be Warm™ and immediately holds kokichi’s hold again, while the other’s having a gay panic.. and he doesnt know how to feel because on one hand, his beloved demon is.. right here, in the ‘flesh’, holding his hand, telling him he fell in love with him.. but on the other hand, that doesnt excuse the confusion and hurt he put him through back then, not being able to see him for a whole damn year.. 

-> ouma ignores all the feelings when akamatsu arrives where she’s brought water and blankets (just in case- i feel like shes the kind of friend who would do that) so saihara takes the blankets and ouma takes the water and she calms them both down and gets them to explain everything slowly and in their own time. its awkward esp for ouma who isnt particularly close with her, but they manage it in the end

-> they decide shuuichi literally cant live in the forest so of course now he has to live with ouma but akamatsu offers to help if it ever gets too much for ouma which obviously ouma denies. she leaves soon and its just them but ouma needs some time to himself to clear his head and he only returns late to see saihara asleep clinging onto akamatsu’s blanket with his life lmao so ouma sighs and brings him more. and if he kisses the sleeping demon’s forehead, nobody has to know

-> ofc its still very much awkward and it takes ouma getting used to having even just another presence in his home, let alone his sort-of-unofficial-demon-bf and saihara’s still sleeping a lot of the time but recovering

-> they probably establish their feelings for eachother properly when they’re more mentally prepared for it, and then 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 (they kiss) and are now actually legally boyfriends. i absolutely cannot let this end in angst so they’re happy and love eachother now yay the end

nngl. i talked about this with that same friend and I lowkey want to start writing an actual fic for it now that ive written... literally the entire plot, but if i do that it probably wont be out for a while bc i take 10 years to write lmao-- plus i hardly ever finish what i start so uh yeah.. but hopefully! im not even good at writing fic this is just the plot but yello