#its so sharp and square and yes pls

[stylespresleyhearted]

Callum Turner for LA Times

[akai-anna]

HEY THERE MY LOVELY MUTUAL <3 <3 (I love when you reblog and queue my posts ur actually amazing ily so much I love reading your tags hugs hugs hugs <3 <3 <3 im in love, giggling kicking my feet everyday)

SAW THE CHARACTERS OPINION BINGO U REBLOGGED 👍 I GOTCHU

TAKAGI. BABY BOI OF DCMK (I remember seeing a poll rolling around somewhere about the most dcmk baby girl and Takagi won)

I will also have to have to ask you about Kaito HAHAH (my fav blorbo i will admit)

ok the thing is im from australia. choose an australian animal of your choice bc i am Intrigued. im not too sure how the bingo would translate though hahahah I don't think it would work very well

(feel free to also ask me anything or talk to me and about this bingo too >v0 b)

wait you know what i forgot LOL WE GOTTA HAVE THE PROTAGONIST DUO SHIN/CONE AS WELL. PLS

*LIGHTS UP LIKE A CHRISTMAS TREE* MY DEAR MUTUAL, HI CYN, HELLO!!!!

Firstly: WE'VE NEVER TALKED BEFORE BUT LET ME TELL YOU, I WAS (still am) SMILING LIKE AN IDIOT WHEN I SAW YOU SEND IN AN ASK! Yes, I keep track and i'm always happy to see you in my activity and my dash! (I'm also really happy to see we mutually share that feeling; I relate to the giggling kicking feet sentiment a lot.) I'm happy to have this chance to interact with you, in a sense, face to face! Bless you, darling, and I'm sending hugs right back at you.

Secondly: YOU HAVE EXCELLENT TASTE AND YOU HAVE MY ETERNAL ADORATION ESPECIALLY FOR ONE TAKAGI WATARU, he always needs more love, I FREAKING ADORE THAT MAN.

Thirdly: warning notes apply, as stated in previous asks:

I tend to interpret things liberally: only my own rules apply, which means ->

I check everything that makes sense to me, even if they might seem contradictory

The Character Opinion Bingo in question

Prepare for endless ranting. And as a certain someone says: さあショーの始まりだ わ!

I. Takagi Wataru

The Babygirl and Malewife of My Heart Personal Special Tag: #takagi is a good man

Points that I feel need a little elaboration:

I am so normal about them: I use the word "normal" as a synonym for "utterly obsessed with" and "absolutely love and adore". (I don't like the word in itself, hence, the only context I use it in, is this. But that is another story.)

*puts them in a salad spinner*: as in, the salad spinner is my brain, and he keeps rotating in it at high centrifugal force.

Canon isn't real if I don't look at it and That's a solid design right there: Detco Canon is... As much as I love it, I think we can agree it has its shortcomings/issues, and one of them is coming up. These two points go hand in hand at this moment because LOOK AT HIM!!! LOOK AT HIM!!! THIS MAN IS A BABY!!! LOOK AT HIM, HE'S PERFECT!!! THE SPIKY HAIR!!! THE SHAPES!!! THE COLOUR PALETTE!!! HE'S SO CUTE!!

I resonate with this particular video: his new design in the anime (partly thanks to the general Square-and-Pointy-fication) is just... THEY HAD THE PERFECT MAN. IT'S A CRIME. Bless that he is at least still cute in the manga, even if not the same way as in the early anime. The sharp cheekbones and soft looking hair have their charm.

My point is: THIS!!!! MAN!!! IS!!! A BABY!!!!

Literally I would kiss them and I want to BITE them: he makes me go FERAL with LOVE, and makes me feel like I want to gnaw on something or eat a whole fridge or scream endlessly into a pillow. I wouldn't do it to HIM (I'll leave that to Satou Miwako), but generally, the feeling is there. (Okay, I'll be honest, I would totally give him forehead, cheek, or hair kisses.)

To close his section, have one of my favourite bits about this Baby Of A Man. That poll was absolutely right about him, THE ULTIMATE BABYGIRL (and Malewife TM).

⊱✿⊰

II. Kuroba Kaito/Kaitou KID

The Local Mischief and Chaos Bringer Personal Special Tag: #the magical agent of chaos

LOL I DIDN'T EXPECT TO GET A BINGO, EVEN WITH THE FREE SPACE HAHA

Some points are the same as for Takagi, but here is elaboration on the ones that don't match:

Bastard, A Beast Unleashed and They didn't get bullied enough: let's be real. He's an Absolute Menace. And I sort of love that about him. Highly competent (competency makes me go weak), and if that is not scary (and hot) I don't know what. And sometimes he also goes too far (lifting skirts is not okay at all, Kaito) and needs someone to put a leash on him (or kick a soccer ball at him/chase him in a classroom). I feel that sometimes he needs a bit of bullying a challenge, to think about things. And again, honesty: I love seeing him suffer a bit, I love his Panic Moments LOL. Not in a mean way. But I also love how kind he is; the baseball chapter in the MK manga has my heart, and the Clock Tower Heist, and the Red Tear chapter... Not to mention the Nightmare arc. He cares about people and making others happy. I feel I went on a tangent here. Onto the bastard bit: he CAN BE SUCH A BASTARD AND I LOVE THAT ABOUT HIM TOO. Two of my favourite bits of Bastardry from him include 1) HOW HE DISGUISED AS RAN AND HOW HE BAITED SHINICHI AT THE VERY END OF THAT ENCOUNTER and 2) THE WAY HE SENDS SHINICHI CAREENING IN THE SIDECAR LIKE IT'S NOTHING (but also Shinichi getting right back at him and setting fire to the fckin fuel.) Pure Bastard Energy.

I want their gender: I love the way he is just so free-spirited about how he dresses/disguises. And I love the thought of him and Aoko doing outfit swaps (I blame that competition in MK for these. Also look at these delightful posts on the topic).

Canon isn't real if I don't look at it: I have... issues, with canon, you could say. Like the way he has no support system, especially bothers me. I would like to see his character treated with more care (be it MK or DetCo). I live for good character development, and I crave that for him.

To close this section, have one of my favourite conversations between these two menaces of nature.

⊱✿⊰

III. Australian Animal of Choice: Koala

Fun fact: I've been in love with koalas ever since I got a keyholder plushie from relatives in Australia when I was like... in kindergarten? Or early elementary? Also don't worry, *puts on sunglasses* I wouldn't have mentioned animals, if I thought I couldn't work with them.

Elaboration is needed here I feel.

I am so normal about them: I'm not as obsessed as I used to be but I'm eternally fond of koalas. Did you know their fingerprints are so similar to us they could be mistaken for human fingerprints? Or how they spend most of their time sleeping because the eucalyptus they consume is toxic? Or how they can actually swim well? Or how they are literally surviving by being Dumb As Shit because Being Dumb Saves Energy? Yeah, I'm totally normal about them.

*projects onto them like a mf* and I want their gender: Oh to be a koala, just existing, sleeping, sometimes waking up to eat some eucalyptus, then going right back to sleep. I want that.

That's a solid design right there: HAVE YOU SEEN THEM? SO FLUFFY LOOKING!!! WITH BIG CLAWS!!! THE BIG NOSE!!! SO SHAPED!!! NOT TO MENTION THE EARS!!!

They are so silly and They Sure Do Exist: how did this animal even come into existence? Weird lil creatures. THEY ARE JUST SO SILLY. THE NOISES THE MAKE. Like oh my god.

Literally I would kiss them: THEY JUST LOOK SO SOFT, HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO BURY MY FACE IN THE FUR?

⊱✿⊰

IV. Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan

*Prof Agasa voice* He has many nicknames, like Gremlin Child, Absolute Menace, Ultimate Baby, Lil Nerd, Walking Encyclopedia Son, or Disaster Child. I think I call him as many names as I do my dear Rosie, so that is quite telling LMAO Personal Special Tag: #the detective gremlin

HDSBSKDB DOUBLE BINGO (AND ALMOST 4 BC HE'S ALSO DET'S FAV, SO ALMOST CROSSED OUT PROXY TOO KSJNVKSVNJS OK, my love for him is showing, I guess)

EDIT: FCKIN TRIPLE BINGO AS @vampirecatsw POINTED OUT oh my god, I'm blind

Again, some thoughts on relevant bits.

*projects onto them like a mf*: THIS CHILD IS SO FCKIN NEURODIVERGENT, AND I FCKIN RELATE, ALSO HE LOVES AND CARES SO DEEPLY IT HURTS AND I RELATE SO HARD.

A Beast Unleashed: another MENACE OF NATURE. You cannot let him roam free, he finds trouble like it's Breathing. Also love it when he goes ballistic. Or when he shows how competent he is. Like GOD. HE'S AMAZING, and he's a danger to criminals and himself, mostly.

Everyone else if wrong about them: not EVERYONE, just... some people. We agreed with a friend that some of our issues in portrayal lies with the fandom sort assigning him traits that Hakuba has, but not Shinichi (Hakubification). Of course, people can have their fun with it, but it's not for me and have my own opinions on the matter.

Canon isn't real if I don't look at it: again, DetCo has issues. Like the lack of continuity/ erased character development, or not bringing up issues ever again, and the like. Early DetCo was GOOD at these, and I miss those times.

That's a solid design right there and I fuck with this aesthetic so hard: HE IS!!!! SO SHAPED!!!!! SO ROUND!!! (or at least used to be) THE GENTLE CURVES OF HIS FACE!!! THE SILLY HAIR!!!! NOT TO MENTION HIS FCKIN WARDROBE!!!! I'M OBSESSED WITH HIM!!! Also, I have a huge thing for blue eyes and dark hair combination, not to mention the glasses... I'm fckin weak for glasses... god. He just hits all the right spots in my heart and brain. (Not to mention his personality, I WANT TO CRY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH-)

They didn't get bullied enough: I live for others teasing Gremlin Child. It's not quite bullying (never HURT HIM FOR REAL, I'LL CRY), but he needs to be TEASED MORE FOR SURE. I guess Bastardry also fits into this, that's good too.

SQUEAK: sometimes he is just so DUMB I want to SQUISH HIM HARD OR SHAKE HIM. I LOVE HIM, I SO DO, even if he is an idiot at times. God. I love him.

Literally I would kiss them and I want to BITE them: HIS CHEEKS ARE SO PERFECTLY ROUND I WANT TO CHOMP ON THEM. ALSO ALL THE KISSES TO HIM!!!!! BABY BOY!!!! GIVE HIM ALL THE KISSES!!!! AND HUGS TOO!!!

Bastard: the way he FCKS WITH SOME CRIMINALS. OH MY GOD. THE WAY HE IS SOMETIMES A MENACE ON PURPOSE. THE WAY HE SOMETIMES GETS SO ANNOYED HE JUST GOES FOR HIS WATCH. Also the way he is an absolute bastard to KID. His attitude is just so. *chef kiss* Love a menace of a child, HE'S AMAZING. HIS RAZOR SHARP SMIRK, THE MISCHIEVOUS CHILD FACE.

I have way too many favourite bits related to this boi. So. Have these random screencaps from my DCMK folder.

I hope you have fun reading this madness, Cyn! I HAD AN ABSOLUTE BLAST, YOU HAVE MY ETERNAL LOVE, may you have an absolutely blessed day, dear.

[babbushka]

Maybe medieval kylo always hating the winter, particuarly the snow, because once he left the kingdom it was harder for him to go about his rugged life but his queen loves it and tries to convice him how lovely the weather is! Pls and thank thee xxx

You’re standing on the edge of the castle hall, looking out into the great expanse of pillowy white, when Kylo turns to you with a frown.

“Must we?” He asks, and you smile softly at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

Earlier that morning you had suggested a romp in the freshly fallen snow, for winter was a most joyous time that gave reprieve from the brutal summers of the kingdom. This was the first snow of the season, and you had all but immediately sprung out of bed and donned your red velvet kirtle, the one lined with fur from the elusive snow fox, imported directly and specially just for you.

Kylo had nearly dragged his feet getting himself clothed and ready for the day, crown freshly polished and placed atop his head with care, placing yours ever so gently on too. He had taken so long in fact, that he had managed to stretch the time all the way until your stomach was rumbling, when he eagerly suggested breakfast.

But breakfast had been eaten, and the great hall had been cleared out, and the two of you were standing side by side, overlooking the fields which were once bright spring green, then had faded to brown straw, and which were now coated in a thick blanket of snow. 

And still, Kylo hesitated.

“Yes, I command it.” You say, a teasing twinkle in your eye which fades when his frown does not go away. “What’s wrong my love?”

“It’s just.” He begins, and stops. Shifts his feet, adjusts his grip on your hand as he tries not to sour your mood with his own, “I have naught but poor memories of winters so harsh as this. The terrain is dangerous and the conditions lethal, for a man and his horse who have no home.”

You hum in understanding, eyes sad and downward cast. Things were so good, so so so good for the both of you since the events of last year. But that did not erase all of the bad that had happened for so many years prior, so many years of Kylo on the move, on the hunt under the hand of a man who sought nothing but power through him.

Well, you think, moving to stand in front of him, stepping off the stone floor and onto instead the hard crunch of snow, he shall not have bad happen to him again, not while you’re here. 

He looks at you concerned when you sink an inch or two or three into the snow, but you pay it no mind.

“Listen when I speak these words: my darling you are a nomad no longer. Never again will you need to worry about the white which falls and sticks to the ground, for you have this castle and this kingdom – and this woman as your wife.” You search his gaze, those brown eyes filled with such a heat that it’s a wonder winter came at all, pouring all his love into yours.  

“I am afraid it is easier to be said than to be done.” He whispers, but he takes a step forward to meet you in the snow, and you smile just the smallest bit when he sinks an inch as well.

“May I have one chance to show you the wonders of winter?” You plead, not overly pushy, but wanting to at the very least make your offer known, “Just one chance, one day, to attempt to shed light upon the greater joys of snow?”

Kylo sighs, entirely too dramatically, and you know you’ve won, for he is walking now, tugging you along by the hand, out into the field where the castle children have already begun to laugh and play.

“You are insufferably sweet sometimes – do you know this?” Kylo asks you as you loop your arm around his in the fashion which you have adopted as being the only true way to walk with your husband.

“I do, but tell me anyway.” You tease, cheeky and adoring, as you rest your head on his shoulder, the two of you making your way through the snow.

“You’re awful, terrible. Cunning and charming are a treacherous mix, and my queen, you are a fatal balance of both.” He laughs to himself, just a quiet chuckle that has your love blooming in your chest, especially when he tugs on your hair playfully and says all too quietly, “No wonder you and winter get along so well.”

“You speak as though there is personal vendettas against you from Father Frost himself!” You can’t help but laugh at the way he hates the season so.

“How do I know there isn’t?” Kylo counters, bending down to scoop up some snow between his gloved fingers.

“Because,” You drawl, letting him pick up some more of the snow, letting him feed it to you, letting the cold melt on your tongue as you suck on the fingers he stuffs in your mouth, “My liege, you have survived every winter you have come across. Surely that must mean something. The cold has yet to claim you, and with this fortress and my love you shall never succumb to its clutches.”

He sighs, and nods, and suddenly you are running away from him, your velvet cape billowing behind you. You unclasp it from your shoulders and Kylo scrambles to chase you and catch it so that it might not touch the frozen earth, worried that it would chill you to the bone – until you flop down onto the snow yourself, arms and legs spread wide, waving back and forth like you’re some great fallen bird.

The children see you, and they laugh and come running, all of them falling as well, mimicking the movements of their queen whom they adore so dearly.

“What are you doing?” Kylo asks, when he catches up to the small display of you and your subjects, all grinning like loons from ear to ear.

“We are making ourselves angels of snow!” You explain, hoping that such a vision would bring some joy to his face. You stand after a moment more, and point to the print left in the snow from where your body has disturbed it, “Look, look how it appears as though these are my wings.”

“That is very clever.” Kylo admits, smiling against his better judgement.

But how could he not, when the children are rushing to stand too, helping you brush the snow off of your kirtle?

“Would you like to try?” You ask, holding one of his large hands in both of your own.

“No, my dear please, you’ll grow chilled.” He deflects, to a great big sound of complaint from the children.

“It is a good thing my handsome husband runs hot, then, is it not?” You ask, biting your lip.

“(Y/N).” Is all the Kylo says, undeterred by your soft eyes and beautiful charm, eyes which grow sharp when you decide to not push your luck.

“Fine yes yes yes, alright.” Yousay, before gasping and pointing just beyond the horizon, “What’s that – over there!”

Kylo whips around, and has his sword drawn immediately, searching for the threat which has startled you so. But he grows confused for he cannot see anything, there is no one charging towards you, no one which should –

And then he feels the thump of cold on his back, and lets his shoulders sag slightly, sheathing the sword back in its place, and turning around to complain, only to have another soft thump of cold hit his chest.

You and the children have balled up small projectiles of the snow, and are lobbing with poor aim at his body. He finds that he isn’t angry, how could he be? No, he is – for the first time – feeling rather playful in the snow himself.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaims when another ball of snow hits him square in the face, sending the children all giggling and hiding behind your legs, especially when he begins to scoop up the largest ball of snow you’d ever seen and stalks menacingly forward with, “You’re truly going to get it now.”

“Kylo!” You shout and laugh, laughter ringing high up in the air as you run away from him as his very own projectiles, ones which could never be so big if crafted from your own hands, “Wait Kylo that’s no fair!”

“Children, help your king!” Kylo asks playfully, and you gasp in mock surprise when a few of the castle children rush to his aid, and an all-out battle begins.

It is through winning this battle, through having the snow and the ice melt on your bodies as you run round and round one another in the great white field, that Kylo begins to understand why winter is your favorite. With the joy that games like this can bring, and the safety of the castle walls surrounding you, he finds it easy to relax the tension in his back, his shoulders, finds it even easier to pull you into his arms and kiss you before the whole of the kingdom, kiss you like you’d never been kissed before…

Before you dump snow down the back of his tunic and he’s off chasing you once again.

[blacknight1230]

Honeysweet - Hvitserk Imagine

(Y/n) is a young Saxon woman, working as a slave to Queen Aslaug. The Viking woman has tasked you with baking dessert for an upcoming feast. Unfortunately, a certain blonde haired prince is hungry, yet again, and lounging around the kitchen. But is he hungry for your honeysweet treats or your honeysweet body?

“Thrall, come over here!” the tall, skinny blonde woman sitting on top the throne shouted. You hastily got up from your scrubbing position on the floor of the Great Hall and rushed towards the powerful woman sitting at the end of the room. When you reached her, you bowed your head down, refusing to look into her eyes. “Yes, Queen Aslaug?” you asked in a hesitant voice. The blue eyed woman  was not only your master, but ruler of Kattegat and the rest of Norway. You’ve been her slave, or thrall as the Norsemen call it, for a little over a year now, having been captured in a raid on your unsuspecting village in England. Your mind flashed back to that moment over a year ago. 

~Flashback~

You were one of the lucky ones that wasn’t slain or raped by the barbaric Vikings. That was because you and several other woman gathered as many children and women as you could into a hidden room underneath the village’s church, made specifically for this reason. Sadly, while the Vikings were ransacking the church for gold and other valuables, after killing the priest and nuns, a Viking warrior found the door to the hidden room under an elaborate rug. 

Next thing you knew, you were bound and sailing on a Viking ship, the smoke of your burning village behind you. The moment you arrived in Kattegat, you and the other captives were roughly escorted off the boat, forced to walk down the dirt covered pathways. You traveled from the focks to the market square, vendors at the stalls talking in the brutish language of the men of the North. The large men then made your people get into a line. You then noticed a raised platform in the middle of the town’s market where a lanky Saxon man was standing, bound by the wrists, while a crowd of Norse men and woman looked on, calling out in their foreign language. After a minute or so, the man was led off the platform and handed to a bearded man. He gave the other man a pouch of what appeared to be coins. It was at that moment you realized you were going to be sold into slavery. 

The next person to stand in the raised platform was a woman holding her young, crying child in her arms. A Norseman went up to the woman and tried to take the child from his mother, causing the woman to scream and struggle with the burly man. It was fruitless though, as the man was taller and stronger than the thin, tiny woman. Her son was ripped screaming from her arms, causing the woman to fall onto her back, on the floor of the wooden platform. The slave master took a terrifyingly vicious looking whip from somewhere and stalked towards the defenseless woman in hysterics. 

Against all proper sense, you dashed out of the line of captives and towards the platform. One of the warriors standing guard noticed you running and called out to his fellow guards, most likely telling them to stop you. But you were too fast for the muscled giants, their armor and weapons slowing them down. You dodged one giant of a man and leapt onto the wooden platform just as the slave master raised his arm to hit the woman with the sharp tipped whip. You instictly stepped in front of the woman, arm raised to protect your face. You gasped as the whip lashed at your side, tearing clothing and flesh, leaving several deep cuts between your ribs and hips. The slave master yelled at you in his strange dialect, but somehow you were able to stand your ground. The man growled, fire in his eyes, as he raised his arm to strike at you again. You braced yourself for the strike, praying to God that this one wouldn’t hurt as much as the last one. 

But the string never came, instead, the slave master cried out in pain. You open your eyes that subsciously squeezed shut to see that the was on the ground a cut to his thigh. You saw a young man standing over him, his back to you. When he turned around his bright blue eyes caught your (e/c) ones. You felt a connecting to this young warrior, like you’ve almost meet before, or that you two were meant to meet each other. A female’s commanding voice stopped the little moment between you two, causing you both to break eye contact. A beautiful and thin woman, dressed in regal furs and jewelry stood between the parted crowd. She talked to the young blonde haired male standing over the wounded slave master. They started to talk, the female remaining calm and stern as the conversation went on, while the slave master’s tone was angry and frantic. 

The blonde woman turned to you unexpectedly, seeming to stare into your soul. “What is your name, thrall?” she said in the Saxon tongue. This shocked you as you believed the Vikings were unable to speak English. “I-It’s (y/n), my lady,” you stuttered, speaking as if you were talking to an English king or queen. “Why did you jump in front of the whip for this woman? Is she your mother?” the regal lady questioned, her stare piercing your very soul. “No, my lady. She’s just a fellow villager,” you explained as you kept eye contact with the woman. It was like you were enchanted, as you were unable to tear your eyes from her blue ones. “Then why would you so carelessly risk harm to your for her? She obviously holds no significant meaning to you.” “My lady, this poor woman was having her child forcibly taken away from her. Knowing that probably lost everything she ever loved beside her child, I couldn’t stand by to see her be beaten for trying to protect her child,” you said, trying to get her to understand the situation. 

A tense silence followed after you explained yourself, causing your anxiety to rise. The tall woman turned to the slave master, who was now being bandaged up by a young slave girl. They spoke back and forth for a while, until the woman pulled out a large pouch full of coins. She tossed it to the slave master, before she walked to stand in front of you. “I see you have a brave and kind heart, so I’ve taken the liberty to purchase you as my personal thrall. I have also chosen to purchase the woman you protected and her child to work in the Great Hall,” the blonde told you, her facial expressions never changing as she did so. You couldn’t help but smile; this caused the powerful woman to frown and she scolded you. “Do not think you will have it easy. You are still my thrall and I paid good coin for you, so I expect you to work for it. Seeing as that young mother has a child to care for, you’re going to have to work for two. Do you understand, thrall?” she said, talking down on you. “Yes, my lady,” you said, avoiding eye contact now. “From now on you will call me Queen Aslaug, or my Queen. I’m the Queen of Norway and I deserve to be called such,” your new master said. “Yes, my Queen.” 

Aslaug haughty turn away from you, her fur coat flapping around her form, “Come, thrall, I have work for you to do,” she said nonchalantly. You understand that she wasn’t a ver patient woman, quickly running to catch up to her. But before you did, you glanced back at the young mother. She was with her child, cradling him in her arms. The English woman looked up from the child clinging to her neck, her eyes meeting yours. She gave a slight nod a silent thank you being sent your way. A hand gripping your elbow made you tear your gaze from her intense meeting a pair of sharp, blue ones. It was the Viking that protected you from the slave master’s lashing! He didn't say anything and gently pulled you along. 

~End of Flashback~

“Thrall, are you even listening to me?” the voice of the Queen said, snapping you out of your stupor. You looked up at Aslaug, fear in your eyes for getting caught daydreaming. Aslaug sighed and repeated herself. “I said that tonight there will be a feast for the newly arrived Jarl and his men that have voyaged here for an alliance. I would like you to help the cooks prepare the desserts, since the ones you have prepared for the last feast were greatly received,” she ordered. A slight blush made its way to your cheeks for the indirect compliment given to you. Before becoming the thrall of Queen Aslaug, your family was the village’s bakers. From a young age, you were taught to make bread, sweet rolls, honey nut treats and so on. But your speciality was the dessert and sweets. You even experimented with different ingredients to create new desserts and sweets. Now that you were a slave, you didn’t have as much time to continue your hobby, but when you did, it left you in a positive mood. 

Queen Aslaug dismissed you and you harried to the kitchens, practically skipping away. When you reached the kitchens, two elderly servants were already preparing the main courses. One of them turned to you once she heard your footsteps. “Ah, (y/n), come to work your cooking magic again?” she said, a smile on her nearly toothless lips. “More like Saxon witchcraft, Grethe. If Queen Aslaug hadn’t order her to cook, I wouldn’t even allow her in my kitchen,” Ardys, the other elder said. Hag, you thought, but didn’t verbally insult the nasty woman. You were still a slave, despite being one of Aslaug’s favorite thralls, and if Ardys said something to the Queen, you could still get in trouble. 

Both old ladies were the two main cooks of the Great Hall, having worked here since Jarl Haraldson sat on the throne. Grethe was a sweet old lady,  a grandmother of a dozen or so grandchildren bore by her four adult children. Ardys, on the other hand, had no children of her own and was thrice widowed, know as the village’s nasty spinster. You ignored Ardys, as she did not like the English nor trust them, seeing the Saxon slaves as intruders in Kattegat. 

You ignored Ardys, instead you went to a wooden work table, noticing several different ingredients, such as berries and dairy products, were placed on top of it. Usually, you had to gather the ingredients from the barn and garden yourself before you official started cooking. “Grethe, Ardys, where did these come from?” you asked the cooks. “Oh, Brona’s son came by and delivered them for her. She bought some of them from the market earlier today after Queen Aslaug gave her some gold to pay for it,” Grethe said from her spot by the stone oven and huge fireplace, used to roost meats on a spit. In front of her was a pot of stew that was hung over the fire, her wrinkly arms constantly stirring the mixture inside. She turned to you and continued, saying, “Such a sweet woman and child they are. Reminds me of my Hilde and her youngest babe.” 

Brona was the woman you defended from the whip of the slave master a year or so ago. She was used as a simple servant, made to gather items and deliveries from the market, feed the farm animals, etc. Her son, also was made to do simple jobs like this. They both tried to help you as much as they could, almost paying you back for saving them, in a way. You smiled, making a mental note to thank Brona and her child before you go to sleep in the barn, along with the other slaves. 

You started to bake a pie for the feast, mixing the eggs, flour, and milk for the batter. As you continued, you got lost in your thoughts you knew by heart as you created desserts and sweets. Time passed quickly, which you only noticed when the sound of a cleaver hitting a wooden table stopped. You turned around seeing that Ardys no longer was butchering varieties of raw meat and Gretha was no longer standing by the stove. You also noticed you made several flavors of pies, sweet rolls, boiled creme treats, honey nut treats, and apple dumplings. (These probably aren’t accurately what Vikings ate, based om the treats in Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim) Seeing as they were just raw batter filled with berries and so on, you started a new fire in the stone oven. The room started to get hot as you fed the fire, sweat started to form on your brow. 

As you wiped the moisture from your forehead, a voice spoke out over the crackling of the firewood. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?” a masculine voice said. You turned around quickly to see Prince Hvitserk in the doorway of the kitchen. Your cheeks reddened, but not because of the temperature in the room. Hvitserk was one of the sons of Queen Aslaug, a son of the famed Ragnar Lothbrok. Not only was he a Ragnarson, but he was deemed the most available bachelor of the five Ragnarsons. You’ve heard whispers from the other slaves about the alone time they had with the attractive blonde haired prince. Not only that, but Hvitserk was the young man that saved you from the whip of the slave master when you first arrived in Kattegat. It’s no wonder you have a huge small crush on the Viking prince. 

“Prince Hvitserk, what brings you to the kitchen? Are you hungry again?” you asked, trying not to look like a fool on front of him. Hvitserk seemed to stalk towards you, eyes focussed on yours. “You can say that. But I’m not hungry for any food,” Hvitserk flirted. He was now standing in front of you, towering over your nervous frame. You quickly turned around, a blush on your cheeks. “I’m sorry, my prince, but I have to bake the deserts for tonight’s feast,” you said, your forehead now clammy because of the attractive man in front of you. 

You tried to look busy, glazing the rust of a peach pie with honey. You felt Hvitserk move to stand behind you, his chest pressed to your back. “Come on, thrall. I just want a little taste, that’s all,” Hvitserk whispered huskily into your ear. This caused the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on en, goosebumps raising on your arms. “I can give you a sample of some of the deserts for tonight,” you said, quickly trying to turn the subject around. You were somehow able to get away from Hvitserk, pulling out a couple of sweet rolls from the stone oven. You placed them in front of Hvitserk, who’s gluttony made him take a bite of one of them without complaining. Hvitserk’s eyes went wide as he slowly swallowed the bite he took. 

“My prince, are you okay?” you asked. Hvitserk didn’t say anything, just taking big bites from the remaining sweet roll in his hands. He tried to go for the other sweets but you stopped him. “Prince Hvitserk, save some for the guests at the feast,” you pleaded. “I can’t help it,” he replied, his mouth full of food. “It’s so delicious.” Your cheeks turned red at the complement, causing you to hide it with your (long hair/hands). “Your words are too kin, Prince Hvitserk,” you said, not used to the praise. “I’m serious, (y/n),�� Hvitserk said, once he swallowed the food in his mouth. You looked at him in surprise; he had never said your name before! You didn’t even know that he knew it! 

The said man got closer to you, again standing over you. He was so close, you could see the short hairs on his upper lip that was the beginning of a mustache. His blue eyes seemed so bright and sparkled in the light of the fire from the stove. For once, those eyes held something else than hunger or lust; it seemed to be admiration. “I knew there was something different about you the moment I saw you in that slave auction,” he said softly. You felt all warm and fuzzy inside, feeling safe in the young prince’s presence. Hvitserk raised a hand to gently move a piece of your hair out of your face, placing it behind your ear. He then used that same hand to cradle your cheek, as he looked down on your shorter frame. Your hands now were gently resting on his chest, the tough texture of leather and roughspun tunic underneath your delicate fingertips. 

“You’re just saying that because you want something from me,” you mumbled, hoping Hvitserk wouldn’t hear you. “And what would I want from you, my sweet?” Hvitserk asked, his mood dampened by your words. “You want my body, but nothing else. You see me as a toy like all the other slaves, only here to quench your endless lust,” you said. Your sudden daringness shocked you, as was Hvitserk, since you were normally polite and quiet. Hvitserk started to chuckle, a smile on his lips, that eventually turned into boisterous laughter.  Your cheeks started to turn red in embarrassment, thinking he was making fun of you. You moved to leave, but Hvitserk caught your arm before you could. “I’m sorry, my sweet. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” Hvitserk apologized, a warm smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, my prince. I don’t know what came over me,” you replied. 

You were nervously sweating again, but this time it was because of your fear for an impending punishment. The Vikings did not tolerate any form of insubordination in their servants and slaves quickly stamping it out with cruel punishments. Your biggest fear is that you were to be whipped repeatedly for back talking the young prince. “You don’t have to apologize, my sweet. But I do expect you to do something for me as a punishment,” Hvitserk told you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “I’ll take my punishment, my prince, for disrespecting you.” 

Please don’t whip me, you pleaded in your thoughts. “Good. Your punishment will be dealt with in stages. For now, you’ll be dealing with stage one,” Hvitserk said,  his voice low and giving you predatory eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip and never in your life have you wanted to kiss someone this badly. “What’s my punishment?” you asked in a breathless voice, subconsciously drawing nearer to the blonde prince. It seems Hvitserk also was inversely leaning closer towards you, as you could smell the sweet smell of sweet rolls on his breath. Hvitserk smirked at you and said, “Your first punishment is to kiss me. And you have to mean it or else.” 

You gulped, nervous about the prospect of doing this ... personal act. But you had to do it; it wasn’t like he was forcing you to have sex together. Your hands shook a little as they rose to grasp the jawline of the man before you. Before the Vikings raided your village, you were never courted by the available young men there. So, that left you unexperienced in the romance department. In other words, you hadn’t had your first kiss yet. And as you were a strict Christian, you devantly didn’t lay in bed with a man before. Hence your nervousness at the current situation. 

You took a calming breath, then closed the gap between you and the blonde prince. Hvitserk quickly rolled you closer to him his hands on your waist. You made a noise at this action, but Hvitserk interrupted it as a pleasured moan. Although you insticated the kiss, Hvitserk was the one in control. Said prince was kissing you passionately, your lips becoming bruised from his ferocity. Oh God, this is not how I expected my kiss to be, you thought as the young prince caught your bottom lip in his teeth. Yet, you enjoyed it for some reason. Lewd sounds filled the kitchen as you both gripped each other tightly as you kissed. You pulled away from Hvitserk, gasping for breath, but Hvitserk wanted to continue. He pulled you back into the kiss, his tongue making his way into your mouth. Your fingers found their way into his golden locks, your nails scraping against his scalp. Hvitserk moaned into your mouth at the sharp painful sensation. 

Before Hvitserk could go any further, you two broke away, breathing heavily as you both tried to fill your deprived lungs with air. When your breathing started to get steady again, you rested your forehead against Hvitserk’s broad chest, basking in his natural scent. The young prince let out a short chuckle, then spoke to you. “You did good, sweetness. You’ve successfully gotten past the first stage of your punishment,” he said, his voice low and husky as he spoke into your ear. “Really?” you replied, raising your head and looking in the prince’s blue eyes. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.” A grin broke out on Hvitserk’s lips, the smile reaching his eyes. “I would have thought otherwise,” he said, laying a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“Now it’s time for stage two, little thrall.” You nodded your head, not fearful for what was about to come. If this stage of your punishment was anything like the one before, you were fine with it. “I’m ready, Hvitserk,” you said confidently. “That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name, sweetness. I like it,” Hvitserk pointed out. You blushed, not realizing that you called him by his name instead of his title. Hvitserk smiled kindly and kissed one of your red cheeks. “In this stage, I would like to court you, to be my lover and possible wife, in the future,” Hvitserk said. “Court me?! Why me and not one of the prettier slave girls, like Margarthe?” you asked, appalled at the suggestion of courtship. “I’ve seen how selfless and hardworking you are, loyal to my mother and my family. And I love your cooking, it makes me feel like it's the closest point to Vahala I will get in my life,” Hvitserk explained, proceeding to give gentle kisses on your cheeks and jaw. Your heart fluttered at how your cooking, something you never bragged about or thought was special, could make Hvitserk feel like it was the closest he’ll get to the heavens, or the Viking’s version of it anyway. 

The Viking prince was very persuasive, you were very tempted to agree to his proposition. But not without getting out your own requirements. “I’ll only agree to this courtship on several conditions. One, is that no other woman may lay with you and you shall remain faithful to me. Two, I will be considered your equal in this relationship, so if I refuse to do something then you cannot force me to do something. Understood,” you commanded. Hvitserk bit his bottom lip and gave you sultry eyes. “Alright, my sweet. I say I quite enjoy you being more brazin, my dear. Makes me want to see how dominate you can be with me,” he said huskily. His hands moved to grasp your butt, his right leg positioning itself in between your legs. You gasped at the action, just as you heard someone shouting Hvitserk’s name. 

Said prince cursed in Norse, as you realized Aslaug was calling for her second oldest son. “I’m sorry, my sweet, but I have to go. Mother, needs for some damn reason. I’ll see you during the feast and I expect you to serve me some more of your delicious desserts,” he told you. “As you wish, my prince.” Hvitserk smiled and gave you one last passionate kiss, before moving to leave the kitchens. Just as the young warrior was about to leave the room, you remembered something. “Hvitserk wait!” you shouted. Said man stopped and turned around to look at you. “What’s the matter, my sweetness?” he asked. “You said there were three stages I had to face. What’s the third stage? When will I have to face it?” you asked, worried that stage three was actually a form of punishment. A naughty smile made its way to Hvitserk’s lips and he chuckled. “Oh, darling, that’s when I finally get to fuck you,” he said nonchalantly. 

Your mouth was agape when you heard this, no words able to make its way past your lips. Hvitserk’s grin grew even more at your shocked expression. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen right way. I think I’ll wait for a little while, maybe it will make the fucking you even better.” And without another word, the viking prince left you, standing shock still in the middle of the room. Your face was hot and you felt your core burn in anticipation. Oh God what have I gotten myself into, you thought as you tried to calm down. 

[lamiasluck]

A Touch of Madness

Summary: After meeting Him and realizing that the town had an unsettling dark side, Eric decides to spend some time with Tulip outside. The both of them could use some alone time to think about their situation. Unluckily for them, it turns out they aren't as alone as they thought.

AU: Magic au, every ego has magical powers and familiars

Characters: Eric Derekson and Wilford Warfstache

Words: 2188

Read on AO3! The Magic AU!

-

Clockwise, counter clockwise, clockwise, counter clockwise…

Eric found himself getting dizzy trying to follow Tulip’s movements. She was running circles around him while he sat cross legged on the soft grass below. The day was nice, so Eric figured that he could bring Tulip to a nearby forest to folick. Admittedly, he used it as an excuse to calm himself down, but who would blame him? This supposedly quiet town has already given him more than he could bargain for and it has only been a week. It was hard to wrap his head around the situation. At the very least, he assumed that there was some sort of crime group in the town. And by Bim’s nonchalant attitude towards murder, he knew that this group had loose morals.

Moving should be his next plan. Getting as far away from this town as possible was a welcomed goal, but an unreachable one. The plethora of money Bim gave him was enough to buy new potion supplies and tidy up the shop at least. However, he had nowhere near enough to buy a new place to live. Especially in a place far away enough from danger. He moved here to lay low, not to be threatened for his life all over again.

So he needed more customers, but more customers also meant more threats. Potentially. If he treaded carefully, he could avoid future conflicts. But who knows what kind of person could walk through his shop’s doors next?

His breathing became much more shuddered than usual ever since he met Bim. It was like his usual panicked personality was exaggerated. Try as he might, nothing could fully calm him down.

Tulip thumped her back legs loudly once she saw Eric zoning out. He flinched at the sound, but soon returned to his senses. Petting Tulip always somewhat calmed him down on days like this. The bunny hopped onto his lap and nudged her head against his stomach, taking full advantage of that fact. He let out a quiet giggle at the sight. As Tulip continued her attention seeking, he reached in his bag and pulled out a pouch filled with rose petals. Her favourite treats. The perfect reward for such undying support.

Unbeknownst to them, there was another onlooker creeping in the shadows. They let their presence be known by dashing between the bushes within a blink of an eye. Eric and Tulip froze in place as they stared at the source of the sound. The creature moved again, and for a brief moment, Eric saw a silhouette. Another rabbit.

“Oh… oh thank god-!” Eric let out a breathy laugh. “Tulip - Tulip it’s okay. It’s okay, Tulip, nothing to worry about.” He was about to calm down his familiar before the unknown rabbit jumped out of its hiding place. Tulip huddled herself closer to Eric as he let out a surprised yelp.

The creature looked more like a hare than a rabbit. Even then, it looked… off. Compared to Tulip, it made her look like a baby in size and stature. It also looked more hostile, much more hostile. If its jutting, sharp teeth and bloodshot red eyes were anything to go by. Eric hoped that the dirty red clumsily covering its body happened to be apart of its coat, and not its unforseen victim.

It hopped closer to the two, carefully sniffing the air. Eric did his best to put on a brave face and shield Tulip, but he had no clue how to help the situation. So he did what he did best.

“Pl-Please go… please don’t hurt us…”

Beg.

The hare must have not understood his pleads. Or it didn’t care. It kept creeping closer until it was face to face with Eric, eventually turning to look at the shivering bundle in his lap. As scared as Eric was, he never budged and shielded Tulip more. Nothing was going to stop him from protecting his familiar. Not even the creature’s dagger-like teeth.

Eric screwed his eyes shut as the hare sniffed his face. It let out odd growls and snorts, but never hurt him. Yet. So long as Tulip didn’t get hurt, he didn’t care about his own wellbeing.

“Snuggles?!” An unknown voice sounded off in the distance. “Snuggles, where are you~? You little rascal!” The man’s voice laughed.

Within a minutes time, a brightly dressed man literally popped into existence. He paid no mind to Eric’s panicked state and focused on the hare. “Oh, there you are!”

“W-Who are you?!” Eric screamed. Tulip jumped from her spot in Eric’s lap and into his arms, startled by the overwhelming noises.

“I should ask you the same thing, friend! Why, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The pink clan man showed him a bright smile. He had an eye catching appearance, to say the least. Lots of pink, an upbeat attitude, and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Exactly the type of person that would name a killer hare, Snuggles.

All Eric could do was hyperventilate, eyes darting between the man and the hare. The man followed his gaze and finally connected the dots.

“Ah, I see. Did Snuggles scare you? I didn’t realize that he ran off.”

Eric gave a short nod, hugging Tulip close to his chest.

The man looked down at the hare with a stern look, huffing to himself. He made a few “tsk” noises at the hare to add to his scolding. “Now what did I tell you? You can’t make friends by scaring them.” Much to Eric’s surprise, the hare backed down at Wilford’s tone, pressing his ears to his head. After giving the hare what-for, he turned back to Eric with a softer expression. “My apologizes, friend, my familiar is a rambunctious fellow. My name is Wilford Warfstache, pleased to meet you!”

“Um, I… I’m Eric,” he muttered. He relaxed ever so slightly at Wilford’s friendly attitude. His name seemed to strike a chord in Wilford and he watched his confused expression cautiously.

“Eric?” Wilford pondered to himself for a moment before his eyes shone brightly once more. There might as well have been an actual lightbulb over his head as he remembered. “Right, Eric! The potion maker! Bim’s told me all about you.”

And now he was back at square one in terms of panic level. Hearing Bim’s name again made him visibly pale. “Did - Did he, um, what did he say about me?”

“He said you were quite the character! All innocent and cute, just like that little rabbit of yours.”

“Really?” Eric fidgeted at Wilford’s comment, even Tulip squirmed in his arms. He was confused as to why people kept casually complimenting him. But, then again, he probably would be considered cute when compared to a criminal. At least Bim wasn’t joking when he said he liked his personality. He clung onto any sense of relief in his situation, for his sanity’s sake.

“Yes, of course I’m not one to lie,” Wilford said with a cheeky smile. “I’ve been meaning to pay you a proper visit, but I suppose life wants to be a jokester.” He let out an awkward chuckle. “My dearest apologizes again. I hope I didn’t scare you too much.”

“It - It’s okay-! It’s not the first time…” And it won’t be the last. Not in this town. Eric got up and slung his bag over his shoulder, allowing Tulip to hide within the fabric. “I should - I should get going now. I closed up shop to be here… I shouldn’t - it’s selfish…”

“Nonsense, friend! You shouldn’t apologize for that,” Wilford reassured whilst patting Eric on the shoulder. The shorter man squeaked at the contact, but gave him a shaky smile as he looked up at him. “Everyone needs a break from the madness every once and awhile. Why don’t I walk you back? It’s the least I could do.”

There was a brief silence as Eric thought about Wilford’s suggestion. He looked at Wilford, then he looked at Snuggle’s red eyes, and he nodded. Maybe it was because Wilford was friendly or maybe it was because he didn’t want to risk immediately getting on his bad side. Wilford did know Bim afterall, there must be something darker hiding behind all that pink. Either way, they walked back to his shop side by side.

Besides the peaceful sounds of the passing breeze, Snuggles kept letting out these deep snorts as he twitched his nose at Eric’s bag. He knew these were happy noises, Tulip made the same noises, albeit a much softer version of them. Either way, Eric made sure to keep Tulip close to his chest.

“Aw~ Snuggles really likes your familiar! I’ve never seen him so excited,” Wilford said.

“Tulip’s really - really shy, um, so-sorry… She only trusts me,” Eric explained.

“That’s okay, you two must have a good bond, then. How delightful! Snuggles and I are quite the pair as well, always eager to show off our powers.”

Eric didn’t want to know what kind of powers Snuggles had. His strong appearance was enough to make gruesome assumptions. He wondered how someone could compete with such a familiar, however. “So… so you can teleport?”

“I can do lots of things,” Wilford corrected. “Why, I bet I can do anything you can think of!” To showcase his point, his snapped his fingers and plethora of bubbles appeared from his palms. He giggled at Eric’s amazed reaction, popping a couple with his finger.

There were so many possibilities for such a power. “You can do everything?!” Eric had trouble contemplating them as he stared at the bubbles. They smelled faintly like cotton candy.

“A jack of all trades, some would say.” He snapped his fingers again and the rest of the bubbles popped in unison. “I do favour certain tricks, of course.” This time he pointed his hand in a finger gun, aiming at a large leaf. He mimicked a shooting motion and the leaf was ripped off the tree. The sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the forest. Eric flinched at the sudden sound and screwed his eyes shut. By the time he opened them again, he saw that the leaf on the ground with a bullet shaped hole in the middle.

“O-Oh… oh my god.”

Wilford laughed again and blew off the wind from the barrel of his “gun”. “Snuggles still gives me a run for my money, y’know? Tough little guy!” He called for Snuggles and the hare immediately jumped into his arm. Snuggles - well - snuggled in his arms, happily grumbling as he pressed a kiss on his forehead.

If the blood on Snuggles’ coat didn’t exist, Eric would have thought that the familiar was cute. He calmed down exponentially since the gunshot, but he worried about the amount of power this town had. He only assumed that Wilford was apart of this crime circle. However, he didn’t dare to ask for closure. He didn’t have a death wish.

Their walk continued and before they knew it, they were right in front of the little shop’s door. Eric fished out his keys. “Did - did you need something? Um… you said you wanted to visit.”

“I suppose I just wanted some new company. I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m afraid I don’t have the time,” Wilford sighed. “I’m already late for a meeting.”

“Oh, that - that’s okay,” Eric rushed out his response. “I hope, um, I-I’m sorry for making you late…”

Wilford gave him another pat on the shoulder. “Nonsense, I’ll be fine. Dark will go easy on me, he’s never mad for too long.”

Eric tilted his head at the name, Dark. The blunt title shocked him back to a reality he was already very aware of. There were more questions on his tongue, but he stayed silent in favour of being left in the dark. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of meeting someone deserving of that title.

“Bim was right about you, your personality is downright addicting! I’ll be sure to give you another visit when I have the time,” Wilford said. “You’ve sparked some curiosity amongst us actually.”

“I - what?”  

“Ta-ta, Eric, until next time!” Wilford and Snuggles poofed away in the blink of an eye, leaving Eric with his last thought.

After standing dumbfounded for a moment, he returned to his peaceful shop. Tulip poked her head out of his bag and sniffed the air with caution. With a shuddered sign, he let her rest on a table and sat down himself. This was only the tip of the iceberg. He didn’t want to think about his unforseen fate. Wilford was surprisingly nice, though a criminal could always put on a friendly face.

He rummaged through his bag again and pulled out the pouch of rose petals. Tulip ate the treat with fervor as Eric gave her a hefty clump. It was what she deserved after putting on a brave face. He watched with a smile, relieved that he lived to see such a wholesome sight. At this point, they both needed treats for their bravery.

[raynaperryart]

For the smooch-tober, 29 for todomomo pls...

Alright, gem, here’s for you! I also posted it to AO3: Sealed with a Kiss

Sealed With a Kiss

Momo was fidgeting with her purse in her hands, looking down at the faux leather straps, lost in thought as she waited outside the café. It was a perfectly sunny day, mild temperatures, and people were milling about in a generally happy mood. She felt out of place among them, though, as her nerves seemed to be going crazy as she waited for Todoroki Shouto to arrive for their date.

Just thinking about it was enough to make her blush. She couldn’t believe that after all of this time of pining after him that he’d agreed to go on a date with her after her not-so-eloquent confession and proposal of said date. She bit back the wide smile that was spreading across her lips at the memory, one hand coming to rest on her cheek at the thought.

Deep breaths, Momo. Don’t embarrass yourself in front of Todoroki-san any more than you already have, she thought. A giggle escaped her, though, and she could feel the warmth on her cheeks from the blush. How was it that he made her so happy and he wasn’t even in front of her?

“Yaoyorozu, are you okay?”

Momo jumped at the soft yet deep voice in front her, clutching her purse up to her chest, eyes wide, as she looked at Todoroki standing in front of her.

And then her eyes seemed to widen even further as she took in his outfit because: he was matching her.

He had on a blue button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up neatly to his elbows, white slack pants, and clean black dress shoes. She was wearing a blue button-down shirt, as well, tucked into a flowing white skirt, black ankle boots on her feet, a black purse in hand. He looked so… handsome.

He looked so handsome, in fact, that Momo couldn’t help the blush from once again spreading over her cheeks as she stared at him.

When she looked back up at his face, he had his head tilted to one side slightly, looking at her curiously. “Is there something wrong?”

She laughed lightly to ease her nerves, shaking her head. “No, I’m sorry, Todoroki-san. Are you ready to go in?” He nodded and the two headed into the café, walking up to the counter to order their food and drinks before finding a seat. The café was small, quaint, with soft light-hearted music playing overhead. A few other couples and friend groups were in there, but it wasn’t overcrowded by any means.

They found a seat by the large window and sat across from one another. Momo hung her purse on the back of her chair, her fingers looking for purchase of something to fiddle with as her nerves began to strike her again. Why was she so nervous? She’s surely faced much more harrowing situations than a simple date, hasn’t she?

Glancing up at Todoroki, Momo bit her lip and asked, “Todoroki-san?” He turned his attention from outside the window to her, his blue and gray eyes peering at her dark brown ones. She smiled, her hand absentmindedly reaching up to play with her long fringe. “I think it’s quite surprising of you to match someone on a first date.”

Todoroki blinked before looking down at himself and then nodding. “Ashido gave me the idea when I was leaving. She told me what you’d be wearing and that you’d probably like it if I wore similar things, so I figured I would.”

Momo blushed, surprised but also not. She’d have to thank Mina later. She nodded, giggling softly. “Mina-san does always have a way of putting people together.”

Todoroki stared at her for a moment before looking away to see that one of the people working behind the counter was bringing them their drinks and food: a strawberry smoothie for him, a peach-mango for her, and some finger sandwiches for them to eat.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Momo sipping nervously on her drink. What was she supposed to say? She’d never been on a date before, and she didn’t know what to expect. Was he having an okay time? Should she ask him about his internship? Should she talk about how she thinks she’s found a new way for her quirk to expand its limits? There was so much on her mind that she didn’t hear Todoroki saying her name until he reached out to touch her hand that was wrapped around her drink.

She jumped at the contact, her eyes shooting up to his. His look wasn’t as calm or nonchalant as usual; she could see the concern in his eyes as he looked at her, even if his face didn’t express it. “Yaoyorozu, are you sure you’re okay? Do you want to go home?”

“No!” She said instantly, a little too loudly. She moved her hands to her lap, his hand falling to the table as she did. “No, I-I’m sorry, Todoroki-san. I’m just…” She took a deep breath, looking out the window, ashamed. “I’m just nervous, is all.”

“Why?”

Momo looked up at him from beyond her fringe as it draped over her face. “Huh?”

“Why are you so nervous?” He leaned forward just slightly, resting one hand on his drink.

Momo blinked at him before shaking her head. “Nothing, it’s silly.” When she looked again he had that curious expression again. He didn’t always verbalize what he was thinking, and many times she believed that he simply didn’t care, so why did he keep showing such curiosity toward her? She sighed, trying to keep eye contact with him as she said quietly, “I just don’t want to disappoint you, is all.”

“Disappoint me?” He frowned, just slightly, his eyebrows twinging down just enough. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting that answer.

Momo nodded, her words spilling out now because how else was she going to tell him? “I don’t want you to think that this date was a waste of time. I’m very grateful and very happy that you agreed to come with me, and I feel like we’ve been so quiet because I just don’t know what to say to you.” She looked down at the plates and sandwiches on the table. “I know that it probably doesn’t seem like that big of an issue, but I don’t want you to think that I’m boring or that I’m doing things improperly. I just want you to have a good time… with me.” The words became quieter as she spoke until she was practically whispering, but Todoroki just simply sat and listened to what she had to say. She bit her lip worriedly.

He said, “I don’t think you’re boring, Yaoyorozu.” She glanced up at him. “You shouldn’t have to worry that much. Have more confidence in yourself.”

Simple words, simple statements, simple facts. That’s what they were to him: facts. She’s not boring. There’s no need to worry. She should have more confidence.

It was enough, though. Those three simple statements were enough from him to make her feel a little less worried. She laughed softly to herself, fidgeting with her fringe again. “Thank you, Todoroki-san.”

They were able to talk more then, with Momo asking the questions that had been on her mind while she also talked about some of the other things that were happening in her life. They talked about many things until their food and drinks were gone. They got up and left the café soon after that, walking side by side down the street. Momo had her hands in front of her, her hands clutching her purse, and even though she was looking down again, she felt lighter than she had earlier.

They reached a water fountain in the center of the shopping square, the water reaching high above their heads. They stopped in front of it, watching it for a moment, before she turned to him and took in his features once again: his half red, half white hair, his cool gray and blue eyes, his blank but still sharp gaze. He turned to look at her, the clouds of curiosity stirring once again in his eyes.

She blushed, but didn’t shy away, not this time. “Thank you for the lunch, Todoroki-san.” He nodded, humming as he did. She bit her lip, looking down. There was an impulse there, one that she’d talked about with her girlfriends just the night before: the desire to kiss. Was it improper to think these thoughts after just one date? What would he think? Would he want to? Would he be okay with it? It didn’t have to be passionate by any means, just a simple, chaste kiss. Yes, that’s all—

“You’re doing it again, Yaoyorozu,” he said, and she whipped her head up to look at him, her face furiously hot with blush. But instead of finding a disapproving look she saw a smile just teasing the corners of his lips.

So, she blurted the first thing that came to mind: “Can we go on another date, Todoroki-san?”

He blinked at her and she could have sworn she saw the touch of red on his cheeks. He nodded. “Sure.”

She smiled up at him and nodded. And, trying not to let her confidence wean any more, she tacked on, “Can we seal it with a kiss?” This time he definitely blushed. It wasn’t as bright as her blush, that was for sure, but it was there and the fact that it was there made butterflies dance in Momo’s stomach. She waved her hands in front of her then, panic setting in. “I-if you don’t mind! I don’t want to force anything on you or feel like you have to—”

He closed the gap between them, placing a soft kiss directly onto her lips. It was soft, innocent, chaste, and so sweet, the hint of strawberries still there. It lasted longer than she was expecting, but also ended all too soon, because when he pulled away she could feel her heart pounding in her chest and the strong desire for his lips to be back on hers.

When she opened her eyes to look at his, he was still very much within her bubble, his gaze never leaving hers. He said quietly, low, “Sealed with a kiss.”

Momo thought she would melt into a puddle right then and there, but luckily, she kept it together long enough to smile shyly at him and whisper back, “Sealed with a kiss.”

The crowds around them buzzed with the late afternoon air, some taking pictures of the fountain, some going up to one of the street vendors around the square, some laughing, some talking, but all Momo could see and feel and hear was the young man who had captured her heart a long time ago in front of her.

[sansfangirl4life-blog]

Bestial Purity Chapter 3

Here’s the third chapter! Lost finally gets his name and meets the brothers <3

Lost is my baby and GHorrorFell Sans and Papyrus belong to @zwagyzonk

Chapter 3

G leaned against a tree, sighing as a puff of smoke encircled his face, the cigarette in between his fingers giving off a faint glow. I can sense it....a human's fallen into our neck of the woods. He thought with a smirk. Those human mobs are just plain hilarious and predictable. He listened to the sounds of the night, closing his eyes and scratching at the base of the crack in his skull. "Ngh....aches again." He grumbled. A small flock of crows let out screeches of annoyance and he stood up straighter. "Oh?"

"Oooh, a real meal today!" A familiar, growling voice echoed in the night.

Seems like one of the dogs already found this one. He heard a familiar 'twang' and gritted his fangs. "One of Paps's old traps must've gone off." He pushed off the tree and began walking towards the source of the noises, when a scream ripped through the otherwise silent night.

“GYAH!!!” The sound was filled with pain, and it almost tore through his shriveled Soul. He moved around the corner of another tree and hid as he watched the two monsters pinned a shape to the ground.

“Listen to it screaming! It makes such nice little noises…”  The dog leaned over as the figure slumped, clearly unconscious.

"Well well...what have we here, hmm~?" G smirked as he emerged from the shadows, his red eye lights glinting in the night. The dogs froze, looking at him with raised fur and snarls. "Well, that's a rather rude welcome."

"Sans...." The smaller one snarled, his eyes shifting back and forth. "Back off Sans! This one belongs to us!"

"Uhm, no it doesn't. Sorry to disappoint ya, mutt." G casually picked at his teeth, flicking a piece of pig skin at the dog. It landed on his nose and he snorted, snarling. "That's one of my bro's traps you see. His trap, his catch. And since he doesn't patrol here at night, that makes it my trap, and my catch."

"Well you didn't get here, and we chased it here!" The clouds moved from the moon, allowing it's pale light to briefly fall upon the two hulking monsters. One was a larger dog, a sharp, chipped axe on his back and the other was smaller. It had two daggers at its side, sharp and already tinted red with blood and his face was covered in boils.

"Stars Doggo you look like a pile of fungus shit." G chuckled slightly.

"Fuck you Sans!" He snarled, eyes flitting back and forth as he carefully observed G's movements. "We were here first, so its ours! Right Dogamay?" He turned to the other dog. It tilted its head, showing a scarred snout and runny nose, one scar running down the side of his face. His fur was mangy and missing in spots. "Well?"

"I-I dunno Doggo....this is Sans. You know how strong he is..." He backed up a bit, near furless tail ticked between his legs. "A-And I have Dogaressa to g-go back to...s-s-so...."

"Well....you a dog? Or a pussy?!" Doggo snarled at his partner and walked over the limp form on the ground. "I ain't afraid of you, Sans! Things are different now...we don't have to rely on you to find food!" G yawned and stretched slightly, tilting his head.

"You done?"

"Grr...."

"Because ya see, Paps is gonna want that bedtime story he's gotten attached to since getting here and-" He watched as Doggo rushed at him, daggers drawn. 

"Oh, alright, fine." He vanished from Doggo's vision and the dog monster landed face first in the snow.

"Coward! Where did you run off t-"

"Yoohoo~." Doggo turned to see G right next to him, his left eye glowing a dangerous blood red, the center a sickly yellow. "Ya dropped something~." He swung upwards, cutting Doggo's right eye from his nose to his forehead. Doggo yelped and fell to the ground, whimpering in pain. "Now are we done?" He turned to see Dogamay had run off, his footprints trailing off into the shadows. "Yup. I think so." He turned to Doggo, his eye lights glinting and his smile growing wider. "Unless you wanna be a pile of ashy dog treats...I'd fuck off."

"Grrr....I won't forget this Sans!" Doggo snarled and ran off.

"Pfft, yeah yeah, whatever." G simply shrugged and tossed the dagger aside. He turned to the figure lying prone on the ground and knelt down. He whistled as he looked at the coiled barbed wire. "Damn, you struggled pretty good for it to be piercing through you like this, hmm? Then again, with those mangy dogs chasing you I can't say I blame ya too much." Very carefully, he took some of the wire off his back. Bringing his axe out, he flipped the body over and placed the blade next to his pale neck. "Alright, time to 'cut' this conversation sh-" He stopped as the moon shone down again and his Soul twinged.

The figure was a young man, no older than 22. His skin was as pale as the snow beneath them, his forehead covered in sweat and blood had made its way down his cheek from a wound on his head. Messy, black locks were tipped with pure white and G found himself confused. "What....what on earth? I've never seen a human so pale before...." Curiosity overcame him as he carefully removed the barbed wire. Soft whimpers of pain had him look down as eyes slowly opened.

"Pl....lease...." The voice was soft and weak, and when his eyes met G's, he felt trapped in their pleading gaze. "Do.....don't...k....ill me....." Red and blue irises met his empty socketed gaze, surrounded in a sea of ebony. "I....I w....want...t...to li...ve..." G remained frozen as the young human struggled for air, the barbed wire tightening slightly with each heaving breath. G sighed as the young man passed back out.

"Urgh....damned sentimental Soul." He mumbled as he continued to carefully remove the barbed wires. As he removed them from pale flesh, blood leaked from the punctures and he blinked. Oh? This smell.... He gently placed his index finger on some of the blood and held it in front of his nose. "Mmm....rich...sweet scent....magic for sure." He licked his fangs before lapping the blood off his finger. His eye lights seemed to blow up in his skull as a sudden rush of magic flowed through his bones and Soul.

He groaned at the taste and swiped at another trickle to get another taste. Shit......fuck this is.... He sighed as he rolled his shoulders. Like dark chocolate....simply divine...  He looked down at the young man in the snow and grinned. "Yer a rather sweet little find, aren't you?" He chuckled lowly. He carefully knelt down and gathered the young man into his arms. "Kinda light for a human.....I'll be sure Paps feeds ya real good."

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

Eyes opened to be greeted with an unfamiliar sight. "Wh...where am I?" He sat up and looked around the dimly lit room. "Candles...and I'm in a bed..." He frowned and gripped at the sheets that had pooled around his waist. "I had been running when-" A knock made him jolt slightly and he looked at the closed, wooden door. "Y-Yes?" The door opened slowly and his eyes widened in shock.

A tall skeleton ducked under the doorway to enter the room, his limbs long and thin. He wore a pair of square shaped glasses and a black, twin tailed suit. His mouth was filled with long teeth, making talking a feat all on its own. He tilted his head as he gazed at the young man. "W-Who are you? Where am I?"

"P...Pa...py.....rus...." The tall skeleton's voice was creaky and strained as his mouth barely opened. He gestured to himself as he spoke, hoping the human would understand him.

"...Papyrus? That's your name?" He nodded and the young man looked at the old blanket covering him. "Did you find me?" Papyrus shook his head, then held a large hand out. He placed the small notes in the human's lap and gestured to them before gesturing to himself. "Oh, these. Did...did you write them?" He nodded and smiled before handing the human a plate of food.

"This..." He frowned as he looked at it. Noodles were piled onto the plate, covered in a red sauce and large meatballs. "What....what is this?" He asked, the curiosity clear in his eyes. "I've never seen this before....and it smells really good." His stomach practically groaned at the smell and Papyrus gestured to the fork. "You...you want me to eat...this?" He grabbed the back of one of the notes and hastily wrote on it.

'Spaghetti. I made it fresh for you!'

"This is spaghetti?" He carefully twirled the fork around the noodles, making sure to get at least one meatball on it before taking a careful, slow bite. His eyes shot open as the warm, spiced food hit his tongue and he quickly delved into it. The spaghetti was gone in just a few minuets, and his stomach seemed to groan for more. "Is there any more?" He asked, eyes hopeful. Papyrus seemed to beam at the question and he quickly grabbed the plate before leaving the room. That was...really good. I've never had food like that before. He smiled and patted his stomach. Fresh, and it had spices I've never tasted before! It was so good...

Papyrus returned with another plate and the human took his time with the second helping. He savored every bite he could, sighing as his stomach was finally satisfied. "Th-Thank you for the food Papyrus." He smiled a little as Papyrus knelt down, napkin in hand. He wiped the human's face off and as he shook his head, a large hand reached out and gave him a few, gentle pats. "H-Huh?"

"He likes you." Another voice echoed from the doorway and Papyrus moved so the human could see. A tall skeleton stood there, wearing a large coat with a white fur trim around the collar. He had on long black jeans and boots. His red eye lights seemed to stand out in the glow of the candles, and the gaping hole in his head made the human shiver a bit. "That's a good thing...my bro usually frightens off others."

"Well, he's been polite to me. So I don't see a reason to be scared of him." The young man shrugged. "Looks aren't everything after all."

"Heh...is that what ya truly think, little lost lamb?" The human scowled at the nickname as the skeleton entered the room. "Name's G. I'm the one that found ya all 'tied up' with those two mongrels."

"Tied...." Memories of a few hours ago finally flooded back to him and the panic in his eyes was clear.

"Ya finally get it, eh? Yer with the monsters now, little lamb." G chuckled. "So....ya gotta name?"

"Name? I...." He sighed and gripped the sheets. "No. I was never given one." G tilted his head, licking at his fangs.

"Hmph, well that'll do ya no good." G walked further in, making the human shift anxiously. "Well...let me see..." He grinned widely. "Since I found ya all lost and alone out in the big bad woods.....Lost."

"L...Lost? What kind of a name is that?!"

"The one that fits ya the best." Lost scowled and crossed his arms. "Now now, don't be so upset about it. If ya come up with anything better, just replace it."

"...Names are special. You can't just give yourself one." Lost sighed. "So...fine. Lost it is." He turned his red and blue eyes to G, feeling uncomfortable with how close he was. "So...what happens now? I assume you want some form of reward for saving me, am I right?"

"Damned straight little sweet treat." The nickname made Lost's skin crawl as G moved in even closer. He could feel the hotness of G's breath, the smell making Lost uneasy. "Ya see, down here, it's an eye for an eye. I saved yer life...." He reached out and twirled some of Lost's messy black locks in between his fingers. "So now yer life is mine."

"E-Excuse me?!" Lost pushed him back slightly and made to stand up, but a strong hand shot out and gripped his shoulder tightly. "My life is my own! I don't-"

"Ya don't seem ta understand. You're a little, lost, magic filled human in a world of hungry monsters." G chuckled darkly. His left eye lit up as the right eye light vanished. "Your gonna do exactly as I say...or I'll decide you're the next ingredient in those meatballs you ate rather than the pig you did eat." Lost scowled and felt magic crackle around his right hand, but G's other hand shot out, gripping his wrist tight. "Tsk tsk, attacking yer savior? Not very grateful are ya?"

"Get off of me!" Lost snapped, his eyes flashing with magic and filled with fear.

"Listen well, little lamb." Lost froze as G's voice seemed to get lower, the sound filling his Soul with dread. "I could easily snap your neck in mere seconds....there's a very specific reason I've kept ya alive...and if you wish to stay alive, you will do as I say, clear?" Lost nodded shakily and G let him go. However, he moved even closer, a sick grin on his face. "Mmm...that smell..."

"S-Smell? What smell?"

"Yer heart is pumping it so close to the surface...and your magic made it richer..." Lost felt a hand grip his hair tightly and his head was forced to the side, baring his thin, pale neck. "Just a little....all I want is just a little sip..."

"A-A sip of wh-" Fangs ghosted his neck, and a slick tongue tickled his flesh, making him squirm. "What are you talking about?!"

"Heh, best resist for now...yer still weak from earlier." He moved away and handed Lost a glass of water. "Here, drink this up." Lost took the cup warily and slowly drank the water. He sighed as his parched throat seemed to relish the feeling of it going down his throat, but it didn't take long before Lost felt woozy. "Damn, that shit really is quick. I need to thank Alphys later."

"Wh...what did...did you...do to me?" Lost's voice wavered as he slumped in the bed, G catching the glass as it tumbled from his lax fingers.

"Oh, drugged ya. Can't have you running away at night, now can I?" He chuckled. "The best part about it? You won't even remember being drugged. It's quite strong stuff. Means I can use it as much as I want to." He helped tuck the pale human into the bed, giving him a soft kiss to his neck. "Should last all night. Sleep well...my little lamb." He blew the candles out and left the room, locking the door just in case. Heh...yer gonna be loads of fun...my little sweet angel.

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

The Captive Prince: Chapter One

A/N: Here, have this fic I wrote a couple months ago and got too anxious to post, but then shared a bit of it with some friends and they were all “PLS POST IT” so here ya go.

Tag List: @thuriweaver @bloodropsblog @justanotherpurplebutterfly @cosmic-chu @lynlinked @imnotamermaidimanangel @lollingtothemax @sombraplayslazertag @softbludemon @musicsavedmefromdeath @treblesanders @hanramz-the-fander @loganpatton @fandomsandanythingelse @didsomeonesayprince @emphoenixcat @sanders-trash-4ever @loverofpizzaandallthingssweet @every-day-insomniac @freekiphotography @sweetinsomniac @purplepatton @puddalogical @shygirl4991 

Warnings: violence, blood mention, death mention

Prince Logan sat beneath the tree in the castle courtyard, reading his book. Or, at least he was trying to. His twin brother, Roman, was practicing his swordsmanship, and the glinting of his sword in the sun made it hard to focus on his book.

“Little brother! You said you were actually going to try wielding a sword today!” Roman protested, walking over to the tree Logan was seated under. Logan sighed and set his book down.

“Roman. We are twins, and you are merely a minute or two older than I am. And I have told you several times before, my time is better being used to increase my knowledge, rather than my fighting. Something you should consider,” Logan scoffed. Roman made an incredulous, offended sound and rolled his eyes.

“Logan, we are going to be kings soon. And a good king should know how to fight,” Roman protested. Logan frowned. In some respects, Roman was right. Their coronation was tomorrow, and since they were twins, they were to rule the kingdom together.

“Yes, you do have a point, but a good king should also be wise,” Logan reprimanded.

“Guess we’ll balance each other out, huh?” Roman replied, chuckling slightly. Logan gave a small smile in return.

“I suppose so,” Logan replied, picking up his book once more. Roman sighed, sheathed his sword, and sat down next to Logan. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't look up from his book.

“Can you believe that tomorrow we'll be kings?” Roman asked, voice low and soft. Logan looked up from his book and glanced at his brother’s face. Logan set his book down again when he saw that Roman’s eyes were watering. He reached out and awkwardly placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“I miss them too, Roman,” Logan said quietly. About four years ago, their parents, King Alastair and Queen Lucina, were killed by an attack from a vicious clan of dragons. The kingdom had since been run by a council of advisors until the two princes had come of age.

“I know. As much as I’ve dreamed of the day where we would rule the kingdom, I’m honestly not sure if I’m ready. I wanted to have so many more adventures, Logan,” Roman replied wistfully. Logan gave a small smile and shook his head.

“You know we don’t both have to be in the kingdom all of the time, right? I can always stay behind while you go off on adventures. Maybe you could even bring along a certain captain of the royal guard you’re so infatuated with?” Logan said, a teasing edge to his voice. Roman’s cheeks grew pink, as did the tips of his ears.

“I’m not ‘infatuated’ with Patton! I merely find him an excellent swordsman and a good friend!” he protested. A smirk grew over Logan’s face.

“Sure you aren’t. Now what was it you said the other day? He has eyes that are a warm brown, like cinnamon? And that his smile could outshine even the sunniest day, and he has a heart of gold?” Logan taunted, his eyes practically glowing with a mischievous light from behind his glasses.

“I- I was merely... m-m-making observations!” Roman stuttered. Logan rolled his eyes, picked up his book, and stood up.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your utter denial. I’m off to the library,” Logan said, turning on his heel and walking back to the castle. Roman let out a groan of frustration and ran a hand through his hair. He stood up once more, and unsheathed his sword. A little more practice couldn’t hurt.

Roman wasn’t sure how long he had been practicing with his sword when he heard it. A dragon’s roar. He glanced around frantically, his mind flashing back to the awful memories of that night the castle was attacked, and his parents died. However, when he looked up to the skies, there was nothing to be seen. Roman shook his head and let out a nervous chuckle. The stress and anticipation of the coronation tomorrow had him hearing things.

He returned into a fighting stance, and continued to practice with his sword. A few more minutes passed by, and he heard it again, and this time it was joined by the earth shaking. He looked around again, and that’s when he saw it. There was a dragon perched on one of the castle towers. It had black scales with shimmering purple details, and black and purple leathery bat-like wings. It had razor sharp claws that dug into the tower, and it had jagged spikes running down its back. Its eyes were a vibrant and glowing purple, and there were two long and curly horns protruding from either side of the beast’s head. A strange dark purple smoke was seeping out from in between the jagged teeth and from the creature’s nostrils.

However, the dragon’s appearance wasn’t what made Roman’s blood freeze in his veins. It was the fact that the tower the dragon was perched on was the library tower. Roman made a beeline to the tower, ignoring the people shouting out warnings to him. None of that mattered, when his brother Logan was most likely still inside the library.

He soon made it inside the tower, and he proceeded to climb up the stairs all the way to the top. As the top of the tower was Logan’s favorite place to be, Roman knew he would be there. Unfortunately, that was where the dragon was as well. Roman just hoped he wasn’t too late.

Roman made it up the stairs, breathing heavily, but he had his sword at the ready. His heart leapt into his throat as he took in the appearance of the library. The shelves were in disarray, books and papers were scattered everywhere, but the worst sight was in the center of the room. Logan was hanging limply from the dragon’s claws, blood trickling down the side of his head.

“Let him go, you foul beast!” Roman shouted at the dragon, brandishing his sword. The dragon’s large head swiveled towards him, and fixed him with an almost mocking glare.

“Well. I thought I was going to have to go searching for the other prince,” the dragon rumbled, voice low and distorted. The color drained from Roman’s face. The dragon could talk?! Roman was so stunned by this fact that he didn’t see the dragon’s tail sweeping towards him until it was too late. The tail hit him square in the chest, sending him flying backwards and onto his back with a loud thump. He tried to get back to his feet, but the dragon’s clawed foot pinned him to the ground. A pained groan slipped past his lips as he struggled to get free.

“It’s almost cute, how you humans struggle even when it’s pointless,” the dragon taunted, pressing down harder. A sickening snap was heard, and Roman cried out in pain. Something akin to a frown came over the dragon’s features.

“Hmm. I forgot how fragile you humans are- augh!” the dragon muttered, but suddenly gave out a pained roar. It immediately took its clawed foot off of Roman’s chest and stumbled backwards. Roman took in a shuddering gasp of air, blinking rapidly to clear the spots in his vision. He gingerly pushed himself into a sitting position and tried to figure out what the heck just happened. He then saw Patton, the head of the royal guard, determination set in his features and holding his bloodied sword in a defensive stance. The dragon had a gaping wound in one of its back legs, while Logan was still loosely dangling from the dragon’s grip.

“This isn’t over,” the dragon growled, and with that, it took off and flew out of the hole in the roof of the tower, with Logan in tow.

“No!” Roman screamed, scrambling to his feet. However, the moment he did so, everything seemed to spin and he felt a hot, sharp pain in his side. Roman let out a cry of pain, and his knees buckled. He would have fallen flat on his face if it hadn’t been for Patton suddenly rushing to his side and catching him in his arms.

“Whoa, take it easy, your majesty. You are severely injured and are in no shape to chase after your brother,” Patton gently ordered.

“I’m a prince.. you can’t tell me what to- ahh!” Roman protested weakly, crying out in pain when his side was jostled slightly.

“Sorry, your majesty. Just try to hold on, I’ll get you to a medic,” Patton said, shifting Roman in his arms so he was carrying him. Spots danced in Roman’s vision as everything spun faster around him. He groaned, and his eyes started to flutter closed.

“Prince Roman?! Roman, please-” came Patton’s distressed cry, but everything sounded as if it was underwater. He met Patton’s concerned gaze, and the next thing Roman knew was darkness.

[silavut-the-wizard]

Silavut the Wizard, Chapter 23

They deal with a very sticky situation.

The Dragon

The dragon descended with a great gust of wind and thundering landing. The villagers scattered back to their homes, screaming.

Silavut looked up at the dragon with indifference, seemingly not caring what happened next.

Sehlan looked at the dragon with dread on her face. “Silavut! What the hell was that?” she asked furiously. “Did you purposely lure the dragon here?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the dragon.

“Hello, little morsels. I see the villagers have prepared yet another scrumptious sacrifice.” Its voice was in their heads.

“We’re—ugh—not—ergh—your—gah—snack!” Sehlan grunted, still trying to find a way to free them. “Silavut, help me! What are you doing?” She looked back to see him just sitting there, staring at the dragon.

“It seems your friend has given up trying to escape.” It produced a deep, rumbling laugh. “All the easier for me to devour.”

Sehlan let out a frustrated grunt. “I wish I had a blade so I could cut these damn things! Then use it to kill you!” she said, turning her attention towards the dragon.

“Me? Why kill me? I’m not your enemy. I’m just like any other living thing. I need to eat to survive, and this village has provided little snacks like you to help with that.”

Besides the village’s yearly sacrifices, she had to admit the dragon did have a point. She had an idea. “Let me ask you something, then. Why do you come to this village? What is it that draws you here?”

The dragon was taken aback. No one had ever asked it anything before. Everyone always screamed and ran away or tried to escape.

What no one knew, however, was that it never actually ate anyone. It would pick them up and carry them off somewhere else and let them go, the villagers being none the wiser as not a single one ever returned; mainly because being sacrificed was a deterrent to return.

The main reason the dragon never actually ate anyone was because dragons never ate humans if they could avoid it for various reasons.

After a moment of thought, it decided to answer. “To seek the one who destroyed another dragon nearly thirty years ago. An evil one with power even dragons dare not meddle with. It was in this village that happened, and when the weave of balance started coming undone. It has frayed and the world became fractured. The only way to restore them is by destroying this wicked being.”

Sehlan gasped. So it knows! “We, too, have been seeking this evil one. She is an insane sorceress who became immortal and has been wreaking havoc ever since she fully came into her powers. We know not where she dwells. We have been travelling long and have been through several ordeals, this one certainly not being the least. We wish to destroy her as well. We may well be able to help each other.” She stopped to let this sink in with the dragon.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? You could be lying to get out of being eaten. Many have tried such tactics before and failed. I should just devour you right now.” It opened its jaws and they could see the massive, sharp teeth built to puncture just about anything, and its long, slimy tongue ready to slurp them down.

“No! Wait!”

It stopped, pulled back and closed its mouth, and waited, one large eye turned towards them, watching closely.

“I’m not lying.” Sehlan tried to think how it could know they were telling the truth. Then she remembered something she heard as a child. “I know dragons have a way to tell if someone is true or false. I also know the risks involved. You can do it to me. If I am lying, then you can eat us, right here and now.”

Silavut continued to stare blankly.

After several moments of contemplation, the dragon agreed. It performed its test on Sehlan and found her to be truthful. She nearly collapsed from the mental strain and was breathing hard with the exertion.

“You see,” she said between breaths, “it’s true.”

“Yes. I do see.” The dragon slowly circled them a few times, still contemplating devouring them. “Though you do still look tasty.”

Silavut suddenly jumped up, fire in his eyes. “You will not have us, dragon!”

“Silavut!” Sehlan nearly screamed in both elation and frustration. “What…the…hell??”

“Sorry,” he said with a crooked smirk and half-hearted shrug. “Couldn’t ruin my plan.”

“Your plan? To do what exactly?”

“Well, free us, of course.”

“OK, so you’re free, but what about me?”

“Let me deal with this conniving beast here.”

“Wait! It’s not what you think.”

The dragon watched, amused, as the two went at it.

“Then tell me, what is it?”

“It can help us. Did you not hear it?”

“I heard nothing but lies. Dragons cannot be trusted. Don’t you know that?”

Sehlan sighed. “Yes, I know. Normally I would agree with you, but not now. Would you please get me loose, and then tell me how the hell you got loose?”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He went over and cut her bonds, still wary of the dragon.

Sehlan stood and rubbed her wrists where they were bound. “Now, tell me your plan and how you got loose.”

He hesitated, looking between her and the dragon, then explained. “Ever since I left Vorin’s, I’ve always had a hidden dagger. It was one thing he taught me, to always be prepared and how to keep it hidden, even with thorough searches. I didn’t want anyone to see me pull it out, so I yelled, assuming the dragon would show, which it did.” He nodded at the dragon. “Once the villagers were gone, I manoeuvred enough to slide out the dagger and cut the bonds. After getting free, I thought we might be able to distract the dragon long enough to escape, find our packs, and get the hell out of here.”

“OK, but distract it how?” Sehlan shrugged at the dragon, bemused.

“I hadn’t figured that part out yet. I figured we’d come up with something at the time.”

“Great. Just great.” Sehlan threw her arms up and let them drop as she rolled her eyes. “So we were just going to randomly distract it with nothing. Nice.”

Silavut became sheepish. “I didn’t know what else to do! I’m sorry.”

The dragon then let out a roaring laugh. “You little ones amuse me. I may not eat you after all.”

“Gee, thanks,” Sehlan said.

Silavut sighed and sat back down. “So, now what do we do? We need to find our packs and get out of here.”

“Let’s go see our oh-so-generous host and see what they know.”

They made their way to the home of the one who drugged them. Upon their barging in, the owner, who was making a meal, yelped and tried running out the back. Sehlan was too quick, though, and caught them before they could get out the door.

“Where is our stuff? What did you do with our packs?”

Stammering, they answered, “H–ho–w–d–d–di–d–y–yo–you?” She shook them. “Th–th–they–o–over–p–p–pl–please–l–l–let–m–me–g–g–g–go—”

“Where?” she asked with more force, shaking them harder.

They yelped and cowered in her grip. Finding their voice, they said in one long string, “Over-there-in-the-storage-room-please-let-me-go!” They pointed towards the room.

“I should leave you to the dragon!” Sehlan dumped them on the floor and went over to the storage room. “You sure they’re in here?” she asked with danger in her voice.

“Y–yes! I–I–I’m sure!”

“They better be. Silavut, watch them.”

“My pleasure.” Silavut stood over them with the blade ready in case they tried anything.

Sehlan opened the door, and sure enough there were their packs, still intact thankfully. “They’re here. Good.” She dragged them out, the sword scraping the floor, leaving a gouge. Looking down at their abductor, she said, “If I ever hear of any more sacrifices, I will personally come back and hunt you down. Do you understand?”

Silently, they nodded vigorously.

“Good.”

Silavut smiled down at them and waved. “Bye-bye now.”

He helped gather the packs and they met the dragon back in the village square to plan their next move.

[unicornmagic]

A very Book of Spells Christmas

This needed more work, to say nothing of a title, but I’m out of time augh, so pls accept this humble gift of gay wizards, tumblr!!  Inspired by #48 on this festive prompts list, and my love of Mr. Graves being ridiculous.  

WARNING:  CONTAINS ELF

*

"Step away," said Graves tautly, wand in hand.  

Credence dropped the gingerbread wizard--complete with frosted pointy hat--and snatched his fingers back.  His whole body recoiled, as if the cookie or the command had singed.  It was enough to make Graves regret the need for sharpness.  The gingerbread wizard landed, still intact, among its fellows: thick squares of fudge and divinity, glittering sugar cookies and pillowy meringues. 

The goodies looked like house-elf work, but Graves didn't recognize the plate. Wand steady, he stalked across the sitting room, toward the sofa and the table where the cookies sat.  

"You bring these home?" 

Credence's shoulders jerked.  "They just...appeared.  While I was helping Miss Goldstein at the soup kitchen."  He flushed in confused distress.  "I thought you must've sent them."

Graves shook his head.  He approached the plate slowly and aimed his wand.

"Specialis Revelio." 

The air above the cookies shimmered briefly; the ripples dissipated without further effect.  "Detects hexes," added Graves, for Credence's benefit.  "But it's not foolproof."  He tried again.  "Venenum Revelio."

Still nothing--no sign that the cookies contained anything shadier than sugar. Credence edged nearer.  "If you didn't send them..."

Graves narrowed his eyes.  "We'll figure out who did."

*

No Graves family fireplace was on the Floo network, for security's sake, but on the mantel sat a small golden bell, one whose twin would ring at Black Rock House, in the kitchen that was Tibby's domain.  Minutes after Graves rang it, she Apparated into the sitting room.  She peered at Graves as if trying to recollect whether he'd been dropped on his head as an infant, and whether the damage had rendered him unfit for his current line of work.

"Of course Tibby made the cookies.  Who else would do it?"

Graves rubbed his brow.  He supposed cursed gingerbread wasn't Grindelwald's style, nor was paranoia in the spirit of the season.  And Grindelwald was on the lam somewhere across the pond.  But years had passed--decades?--since Tibby last delivered Christmas cookies, and it'd been a long week at work.  "The goblin mob, trying to put me out of commission?"  

Tibby sniffed, dusting undetectable flecks of flour from her apron.   "As if your lady mother's wards would let riffraff into the house."  She straightened the plate of cookies, then turned to eye the room and its abject lack of holiday decoration.  At the country house there'd be garlands on the mantel and banisters, a ribboned wreath on every outward-facing door.  To say nothing of the Christmas tree, resplendent, harvested each year from the surrounding forest.  Tibby's ears twitched.  

"Tibby had a dreadful hunch that Mister Credence might not get any cookies at all, if it were left up to Master Graves.  And Tibby wasn't wrong, was she?  Hmm?"

Grimacing, Graves sank onto the sofa in defeat.  He pocketed his wand.  "No, she wasn't."

Tibby's look turned wily.  "There might be more cookies, as well as cake, if only certain persons would come home for Christmas--"

"'Might,' she says."  Graves spoke sidelong to Credence, who was hovering near the plate of cookies, hands curled at his sides.  Inspired, Graves reached for a meringue and stuffed it into his mouth.  Important to set a good example.  "As if she doesn't bake enough to feed an army every year.  You ought to see the Yule log."

Tibby clasped her wrinkled fingers.  "The Yule log, yes!  And Mistress Graves would be so pleased--"

"If the criminal element cooperates, Tibby," said Graves, before she could gain momentum.  "We'll see.  I'll send word when I have a better idea."

Tibby glared at him, unimpressed, but the smile she turned on Credence crinkled warmly.  "Help yourself to the cookies, please, Mister Credence," she crooned.  "Tibby will be happy to bring more.  Now, Tibby must be off to finish the roast!"  

Gathering her skirts, she Disapparated with a pop, before either Graves or Credence could so much as cough a thank you.  The fireplace crackled.

"Well, you heard her," said Graves at last.  He nodded sideways at the plate.  "Eat up."

Credence shuffled.  "It'll spoil my dinner," he murmured, but he reached again for the gingerbread wizard he'd chosen before.  After a hesitation, he raised it to his mouth, then nibbled cautiously at the tip of its pointy hat.   A look of concentrated pleasure came over his face, the one he often wore when tasting something hitherto denied him.  Something that proved delicious.  "I wasn't sure if wizards celebrated Christmas."

Graves averted his eyes, if belatedly, from the nibbling.   "Sure we do," he said, clearing his throat.  "Some of us, anyway.  After a fashion."

Credence settled into the nearer armchair, tucking his feet up on the seat, and went on dismantling the gingerbread wizard, limb by limb.  A smidge of white icing glinted on his lip.  Graves tried not to watch, even covertly, and failed only in part.  His eye fell on the plate of cookies: no gingerbread witches there.  Just wizards.  Well, the baker knew his taste.  He turned his attention on the sitting room, seeing it anew through house-elf eyes.  Its state of drab undress seemed moderately shameful.  

"Aren't there spells on the house?" Credence was asking.  "To keep people from Apparating in?" 

"Solid ones," said Graves.  "Tibby's immune."

"Because she's an elf?"

"That's right."

The gingerbread wizard lost his head, and Credence chewed the last bite solemnly.  "A Christmas elf."  

It startled a grin out of Graves.  "This time of year, she is."  And she was right: they were overdue for some holiday cheer, if only for Credence's sake.  Graves doubted Christmases at the New Salem Church had been what you might call festive.  If he remembered his history, the Puritans had tried to ban Christmas in Massachusetts, right before they'd started burning witches at the stake.

"We ought to put up a tree in here," he said, with heathen relish.  "Don't you think?"

Credence blinked at him as he made for the window.  When Graves opened it a crack, a cold swirl of December wind gusted in.   Spreading his hand, Graves gave a silent summons.

He didn't have long to wait:  wreaths hung from plenty of neighborhood doors in Gramercy Park.  A sprig of evergreen came flying out of the evening darkness. Graves caught it in his open hand and slid the window shut.  He set the fir twig on the floor.  Stepping back, he drew his wand, gave it an upward flick, and murmured a spell. 

The twig shimmered with a golden-green glow.  Springing upright, it grew with magically uncanny speed, thickening in girth as branches sprouted from every side.  Fresh green needles unfurled, and the twig's stem fattened to a modest trunk.

When its growth slowed, the new fir tree stood no taller than Graves' chest.  He gave another tilt of his wand, encouraging, and the tree burgeoned upward and out.  It stretched and spread until the tip of its highest bough almost touched the ceiling.  Balsam scent filled the room, sylvan and crisp.

Graves cast a charm to hold the tree in place, then stood back to survey his handiwork:  not bad for a wizard with no discernible green thumb.  He glanced at Credence, who was watching from the armchair, eyes bright.  

"Could use some lights," said Graves.  "Care to do the honors?"

Credence scrambled upright.  He drew his wand, then paused.  "What spell…?"  

Bland-faced, Graves returned to the sofa and reached for a piece of divinity.  "What spell do you think?"

Credence looked uncertain only for an instant.  He lowered his chin, then turned to regard the tree.  He'd learned to moderate his Wand-Lighting Charm, but could still produce a wild spangle of floating sparkles at will.  He drew a fortifying breath, the way he often did before a cast.  He said nothing aloud.  The birch wand flicked.

White glimmers bloomed among the branches, strewn stars in a deep green crown.  

Graves smiled at the sight.  "Fianto Duri," he murmured, with a sweep of his wand, and all the lights stayed on.

*

[nitin6596]

5 Unbelivable things that can be 3D printed!

1. A Rock Climbing Robot!

A Robot which had soft rubbery 3D printed legs showed its superb ability to climb over a Rough Terrain,  'A Task which could paralyze normal traditional robots.'

Engineers from University of California, San Diego,  designed the robot's legs digitally & carved its performance in various situations, for eg. like, on a soft surface, sandy surface, in narrow spaces or when climbing over rocks.

They chose a design that consisted of three spiral-like connected tubes which are hollow inside and made from a combination of Hard & sorf materials.

As they take a step, the 3D printed legs of robots test  the surrounding terrain and then adjust immediately through pistons that inflate in a certain order and recognize the robot's gait.

Well, even we 3Dera have made many 3D printed robotics parts. For samples & more info feel free to contact us on consult@3dera.in  or visit our website www.3dera.in

2.  3D Printed Five Store Office Buildings!

The 3D printed home is an successful achievement which many architects and designers have been thinking for a few years now. We ve seen so many companies as well as individuals demonstrating this recently, with modern concepts & designs which take construction well into the 21st century.

In April last year, Shanghai, China-based Win Sun Decoration Design Engineering Co. revealed what many believed was a rumor in beginning; almost entirely 3D printed 10 homes, with a recycled concrete material. The company came out of nowhere and surprised us.

Well, Win Sun revelad they made significant progress in their mission to 3D print livable homes and structures. They 3D printed an entire apartment building, having 5 stories, as well as an impressive home, which certainly doesn’t seem to be 3D printed at all. These structures are at the Suzhou Industrial Park, of east China’s Jiangsu Province, and the apartment building consists the area of 1,100 square meters in size!

No doubt, this is probably one of the the most exciting achievement within the 3D printing space we have seen. To be able to build a 5-story building with 3D printed material is surely to grab further attention. Win Sun have just begun with this.  They will carry on further with technology behind this incredible 3D printer, and hope to construct numerous homes at affordable prices.

                                         3.   Micro camera!

A micro camera which could be used on robots or miniature drones or surgical endoscopes was created by German researchers with the help of 3D printing.

The camera provides us eagle-eye vision — with the potential to see farthest objects clearly while at the same time being aware of what's going on in surroundings.

 The engineers from the Institute of Technical Optics at the University of Stuttgart in Germany printed clusters of four lenses onto an image-sensing chip using a technique called femtosecond laser writing.

The miniature lenses range from wide to narrow and from low to high resolution. This structure permits these images to be combined in bull’s-eye shape with a sharp image at the center, just how eagles see.

The four lenses has ability to scale down to as small as 300 micrometers by 300 micrometers (0.012 inches, or 0.03 centimeters, on each side), about the size of a sand grain. Yet the researchers feel they can even make the device smaller than this in the future if smaller chips become available.

                                         4. Clothing

  3D printed clothing might not be in stores yet, but it’s already inaugurating on the runway. Model Dita Von Teese wore the first fully articulated 3D printed gown -made especially to fit her. With around 3,000 joints, the dress flows according to her curves!

For regular people like us, the 3D-printed clothing could mean a level of customization beyond the abilities of any tailor clothing literally printed to any body’s specifications. Though unless you’ve got a figure like Dita’s, you might not be just ready for that yet.

5. Guns

Yes, You read it right. You can even print a Functional 3D printed hand guns too.

3D printing weapons are illegal in Europe, Japan & India but in the United States, it remains unclear yet. Thus, anyone can quickly turn into a kind of a gun manufacturer with only a home 3D printer!

Advanced customization and low production costs are some of the merits of 3D printing for making firearms. Pls. Note that it is possible to 3D print gun parts such as the magazine or the handle. 3D printing the most important parts like the chamber or the barrel is a challenge. Indeed, they require high resistance to heat and explosion.  It's possible to create a functional gun via 3D printing process, but let us tell you that its illegal in many of the countries & we personally think its a bad idea unless you don't want to get in some legal problems.

Thank you for reading our blog folks, stay tuned to our site as we have decided to always come up with amazing topics regarding 3D Printing world.

[mrs-iruka]

Is It Too Much To Ask?

So my pal @cafephan on tumblr put a post out asking:

"formal request: someone pls write a really really good songfic to too much to ask

I need it."

So I have risen to the challenge and pray to God that she now likes this! Also, go and give Kirsten a follow on tumblr(@cafephan) and here on A03(same name as tumblr), she's is an amazing person and writer <333

Also a massive shoutout to my friend Blue on tumblr ( @butterflyphil. Give her a follow just cos she's amazing!) for giving me some pointers, and for acting as beta on this fic. ilysm <333 follow Blue here too: BlueberryPhancakes.

----

It's been three months which Dan has had to adjust to life. Three months since Phan was no more. Tonight is the first time Dan is seeing Phil since the week after they split...

[LINK TO A03]

It's been three months since they've last seen each other.

Dan receives a text saying his car is outside waiting for him. He takes a deep breath, checks his appearance in the mirror, nervously flicks his hair around, and straightens his black tie unnecessarily. He buttons his black suit jacket and heads towards the door.

On the journey over, the uber driver attempts to make small talk, but Dan just lets it wash over him; right now, he can't speak for fear of vomiting. He knows that certain members of the press will be there tonight, those who very publicly plastered it all over social media that he and Phil had split - how they found out, he still had no clue. Now, tonight, he is going to have to answer the questions that are about to be thrown his way.

It's been three months which Dan has had to adjust to life. Three months since Phan was no more. Tonight is the first time Dan is seeing Phil since the week after they split, when Phil had come by to collect the last of his stuff from their flat. Tonight is the first social engagement to which they'd both been invited, and yes, Dan is highly emotionally charged, as well as scared stiff that he'll have a breakdown and embarrass himself. He hates that life has made him a needy little shit, and that was part of the problem, just one of the many reasons why they'd split up in the first place. Now, tonight, he has to face his fear and put in an appearance at the movie premiere he's been invited to see.

He pulls up at the cinema in Leicester Square, thanks the driver in a tight voice, steps out of the car onto the red carpet, and forces a fake smile onto his face. He's greeted by fans screaming his name and flashes from mobile phones as they take pictures. His fans have been his only source of comfort these past months; without them, and their love and support, he often wonders what he'd have become. He waves and calls hellos to those who have turned out, even stops to sign a few autographs and take a selfie or two. He's finding it hard to hold it together, he can see the questions in his fan's eyes, but no one is brave enough to ask him outright about what happened between him and Phil; for which he is relieved. Though that relief doesn't last long before a journalist is up in his face asking him questions. Dan politely but firmly declines to answer; he'll address this when he's good and ready, not before.

Minutes later, Dan finds himself stiffening. He'd been chatting to one of his youtuber pals when they'd pointed out that Phil had just arrived. Dan slowly turns his head in the direction of the road and sees Phil looking rather sharp in his suit, and the breath is knocked from his body. Phil looks absolutely radiant in this light, almost ethereal. Dan's eyes start to prick with tears as he watches Phil's every move, that smile that could light up the sun is being conveyed to everyone but Dan. Dan slowly makes his way inside, and boy, does he feel rough.

The movie is now over, and it's time for the after party. Dan couldn't really concentrate on the movie, but he goes through the motions of congratulating the stars of the movie for a job well done before finding himself a quiet corner so he can try to breathe again. Tonight has taken its toll on him.

Why's it only you I'm thinking of?

As the night proceeds, Dan tries to find the courage to go and speak to Phil. But his heart and mind are having an internal battle with each other. His mind is screaming at him to just go and do it, but his heart is telling him to just stay away, it’ll only hurt more. Eventually, though, Phil makes his way over to Dan. They eye each other for a moment, and it seems neither of them can speak, until Phil does.

"You look good, Dan."

Dan whispers a thank you. He wants to hug Phil so damn tightly, but he doesn't. He holds himself in check. As a waiter appears, a single glass of champagne upon the tray he's carrying, both Dan and Phil go to grab the delicate crystal flute, fingers colliding and quickly withdrawn feeling as if they've been burnt. A round of fake laughter and many back and forths take place before Dan gives way and takes the damn drink. Phil is attempting to make small talk, which he knows Dan hates, but neither wants to acknowledge there are things they still need to talk about. Dan's mind is a raging torrent.

Tell me there are things that you regret.

As the night goes on, Dan finds a quiet spot away from the throng of the party. He's not sure how much more his heart can take tonight. He's done nothing but torture himself all night. Instead of trying to ignore Phil, he's watched him like a hawk, and he feels emotionally wrecked. Why must his mind betray him like this? He'd resolved to not do this to himself, but as usual, his resolve didn't last long. He just wishes the night was over, he feels so very cold and alone right now, and his chest hurts. He's not used to being alone at these sorts of things yet. It was always himself and Phil against the world, but now, now, it's just Dan. A small part of him dies in that room that night.

Do you still think of me sometimes?

At long last Dan can leave to go home. It's been an appropriate amount of time since the party started. He lets the right people know that he's leaving and does his best to avoid Phil. He can't take having to say goodbye again, he feels he might just break. But his luck has run out; outside on the kerb, Phil is also waiting for his ride home. Dan desperately wants to find a place to hide, but the square is still too brightly lit. So he decides to hover behind Phil and not make his presence known.

The funny thing about Phil was he always knew when Dan was there, and tonight is no exception. Phil looks over his shoulder and gives Dan a small smile. Dan's heart stutters in his chest, and his breaths come in short, sharp bursts. Oh how Dan remembers that little smile, and how it would make him smile, but now, that smile is like poison. Neither say a word, and then Phil is gone again.

Don't it feel fucked up we're not in love.

Once Dan is home and locked away from the world, he finally allows the emotions he's been feeling all night to overspill. His heart breaks all over again as he strips himself from the now crumpled suit he's wearing and throws himself down on the bed, gripping his pillow tightly as sobs rip loudly from his chest and throat. He grabs the framed photo that he kept of himself and Phil and stares at it through a sheen of tears; he remembers the day it was taken, they were sat together on a part of the beach outside their rented villa in the South of France.

It's hurt him so much to see Phil tonight, to see him looking happier without Dan, he wishes he could go back and fix what went wrong, but you can't fix things if the other person doesn't want to fix them. The words slung at Dan often come back to haunt him, 'bored,' 'stagnant, 'you're getting more clingy, the older you get,' 'I feel suffocated,' 'I can't do this anymore.' Dan knows why their love broke and crumbled away, it was all his fault, but at the same time, Phil hadn't given him a chance to change. But maybe if he'd changed, Phil wouldn't have loved him still, for he wouldn't have been the person Phil fell in love with in the first place. All Dan ever wanted was to love and be loved in return.

Is that too much to ask?