#lest I post this then leave you in the dark about it forever

[banditblvd]

I draw grian ONE (1) time and I start another project

Anyway rough DL!desert duo designs anyone?

[jellyfitzjelly]

Please do write that fanfic of Ruyi and Ling Yunche. Both of them deserve the whole world 😭

Anon sorry for leaving you hanging I swear I am working on it! It's an AU where Ruyi marries Yunche instead of Hongli! Here is the beginning of my fic! I might actually post it as a standalone... Under a cut because it's long lol.

Ling Yunche looks between the doors of the Cold Palace every night when he’s on duty, and watches the fairy crying in the moonlight. She reminds him of the beautiful and tragic fox demon of his hometown’s folk song, condemned to cry forever under the moon with no possibility to join her human lover in the underworld. He misses his village so much. The capital is big and foreign to him, and the palace is a whole world contained within high red walls. He is blessed to have his sweetheart and his childhood friend here with him. They form Yunche’s own world, a cocoon of familiarity and warmth.

The beautiful, sorrowful girl looks terribly lonely in comparison.

He hears the other guards talk about her. She’s an Ula-Nara, the precious daughter of a powerful Manchu family now fallen. Her aunt was the lofty empress of the Forbidden City, but she is now locked away in her palace and disgraced. They say the favorite son of the Emperor wanted to marry her, courting his parents’ wrath. The Emperor was so enraged he ordered to have her thrown in the Cold Palace, even though she does not belong here. Yunche finds her lover a very weak man. Who wouldn’t feel chivalrous looking at that delicate face? And yet he lets her rot here, bending like tall weed in the wind to his parents’ will and marrying the women they have prepared for him. He should have eloped with her, he reasons, and escaped the capital. She must be heartbroken to have placed her love in such a fickle man. He always makes a prayer for her to find a better man, though he grimly knows that beautiful women have tragic fates more often than not. His Yanwan is certainly not as beautiful as this fairy, but she is his and she sings like a goddess. They have loved each other since they could remember. Her father was a joyous though incompetent man, spoiling her rotten when he was still alive. Yunche chases away the memories, not wishing to start thinking of his own parents, buried in his hometown. He has grown up a wild child with no parents to love him. But one day, he promises himself, he shall have a family again.

If the heavens have eyes, they will grant this beautiful girl a family too.

He watches her every night, hearing her quiet sobs. This time though, she turns around and in the semi-darkness, the moonlight is reflected in her eyes like precious jewels. Yunche should do the sensible thing and close the doors lest the girl starts screaming, but his hands refuse to obey him. The fairy approaches him slowly, the simplicity of her attire highlighting the porcelain of her skin and the delicate features of her face. It is as if the statue of a goddess had suddenly gained a life of its own.

“Who is this?” the beauty calls quietly.

“I am Ling Yunche, guard of the Cold Palace!” he whispers back. “And you, beautiful fairy, who are you?”

She looks at him, blinking in obvious surprise. He wants to smash his forehead against the heavy doors, cursing his foolishness.

“Beautiful fairy?” she repeats, confused, her brows furrowing.

“Oh, forgive me! You must be a ghost, rather than a fairy,” he jests to hide his mortification.

Her chuckle is a delightful sound, and her smile is as sweet as honey and as bright as the sun in summer. What possessed her man to abandon her?

“I am Ula-Nara Qinying, daughter of Naerbu.”

“So it is true? You are the woman the fourth prince wanted to marry?”

He sees her face contorts in hurt, and he curses himself once again for his blunder.

“Hey,” he continues, eager not to leave her with a dreadful impression of him, “if you need anything, call for me. I shall do what I can.”

“Thank you, Ling Yunche,” she smiles.

After that they speak leisurely when he is on duty at night, and familiarity has yet to succeed in making her startling beauty fade. He shares his cheap wine with her, and tries to make her laugh. She must be a fairy in disguise, he muses. She loves music and poetry, though she cannot dance; she loves to embroider swallows on her younger sister’s handkerchiefs; she likes to look at the moon when it is full. He never knew such a woman existed. Regularly he wonders how unlucky she is to have given her heart to such an ungrateful man. He never visits her, nor enquires after her. He lives his luxurious life, and has forgotten his sweetheart.

Finally, she is allowed to go back to her parents. She still looks heartbroken, but she gives him a smile as she thanks him for taking care of her. He does not see her again, though he regularly dreams of the fairy sobbing under the moonlight.

Yunche is promoted a week later, and he tells himself that perhaps her man is not so much of a cad as he believed him to be.

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap (creature feature: vampire): what is draining the life out of you? what feeds your strength?

welcome to my october pac/pap creature feature series - instead of having a single pac/ pap this month, there were five! every monday (at 5p / 17:00 EST) this october, a new creature will be came out to play as the sun began to set earlier and earlier... the final creature is lurking in the darkness tonight...

today's creature is the vampire: song queued: "bloody mary" by lady gaga! the folklore of vampires is one of the longest held monstrous beliefs. once like us, the vampire was once living and now is forced to subsist on blood. the vampire has very few weakness aside from sunlight... beware of the thing that feed in the darkness...

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: mermaid: what are you clinging to that must run free? are you fighting the tide or moving with it?

masterlist of pap/pac posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading. options and prices!

pile one

you may not realize it but clinging to what you have is draining the life out of you. you likely have recently gained or earned something that you have never had - it's easy to get caught up in holding on and wanting to keep something forever, but clingy to one thing often stops us from potentially growing in new and exciting ways. you might also be draining your energy by constantly living life on edge (in a constant state of paranoia/anxiety) - trust me: you are safe. the universe will always provide you with what you need.

your spiritual practice is what brings you strength. no one's beliefs are quite as strong as yours. your mindset has the strength to manifest anything that you need. if you believe in something, you can defy all the odds that are set against you. but you are focused on what you can control instead of what you can not - by finding peace in uncertainty: you will feel even stronger.

pile two

i sense that you are aggressively perusing something right now. i thinking it is time for you to take a break, lest you wish to drain your energy completely. having confidence in yourself. i believe that what you are doing is good - just know that when you start pursuing something - at this moment - there is no stopping. by taking a break, you will come back and feel reborn with renewed energy.

your loving, nurturing, and protective instincts are what make you strong. your presence in general seems to be intense - you have the emotional intensity and powers similar to Jasper Cullen. you likely can persuade others to do what you want them to or feel how you want them to feel. continue to nurture yourself in order to feel your power and to become even stronger.

pile three

it's time that you relax - you work very hard, down play your achievements, and don't appreciate all that you have done. take some time to do so. you've come a long way from where you started so appreciate the view. savor the moment. i do warn you about sharing though - sometimes sharing the moment with others will lead to you investing your emotional energy or will case you to be swayed by their emotional discontent or contentment instead of investing in your own (this is extremely draining for you).

you are unbelievably strong. you stay in situations longer than you need too - that doesn't make you weak, that makes you resilient. you are strong enough to walk away whenever you feel ready. do so. if you feel it is time for a change - you are 100% right. there is better for you and i know you can trust in the unknown better than anyone.

want a personal vampire reading? tip 2.99 USD with the comment "vampire" and i will privately get back to you with what is draining you and what makes you strong! other then that, thank you for reading!

[dkniade]

On the topic of how much Kaeya and The Rain & Cryo Vision part of his backstory (and a bit of Diluc, Stormterror/Dvalin, Albedo & Dragonspine OSTs, Mondstadt & Venti’s history) means to me personally. Here are some quotes from poems I’ve written, to show the slow improvement and healing.

Warning: PTSD / trauma, death ideation, blood, self-deprecation, swearing (It gets from angst to bittersweet, which is a major improvement for me.)

“In learning to associate snow not with sadness and emptiness, but rather with Kaeya himself, it’s helped greatly. This is the first winter I’ve spent with Kaeya, and many more to come, I’m sure, with each year’s storm hurting a little less.”

—“part v”, To a Certain Cavalry Captain, March 2021 (when I first started playing game)

.

“And so I wish to wither away beneath the touches of orange leaves. Yet I don’t want to die.”

—“part ii”, Elegy of a Vibrant Orange Death, September 2021/March 2022 (relapse)

.

“A certain vision. A certain Vision.

Beyond the dark. From here, depart.

That night. The future. That knight. The future.

To see that dawn, I’ll keep living on.

.

Until next time, towards that night

I say farewell. Goodbye, this spell.”

—“Epilogue”, Snowstorm Nocturne: Act I, September 2021 (major breakthrough, started to write about it seriously through Snowstorm Nocturne)

.

“In truth, I should thank you kindly. Your Vision, in spite of everything that you’ve gone through, still glows with such fervour, like a beacon of hope in a dark, stormy night. And indeed, you’ve been like a lighthouse for me, so I just thank you for all that you are. / To me, you’re the North Star.”

—“part ii”, Today is a Day Worth Celebrating, November 30, 2021 (in-character self-insert letter to Kaeya on his birthday)

.

“You want to pick a fight? Oh, I’ll give you

a fucking fight. My poetry, my sword.

My seek for answer, my lust for victory.

And you—

loneliness, ugly name, solitude, fatal voice,

I will dance your dance no longer!”

—“x. Poet’s Riposte”, Snowstorm Nocturne — Act III: Into the Storm, My Love!, December 11, 2021. (major breakthrough, misguided but more confident)

.

“My reputation.

I care not, my friend,

if it shall be that of a bloodstained swordsman,

covered in powder and glaring with flames.”

—“xi. Forsaken child and his terror of storms”, Snowstorm Nocturne — Act III: Into the Storm, My Love!, December 11, 2021. (major breakthrough, misguided but more confident. Named after the Stormterror’s Lair OST “Forsaken Child of Archaic Winds” and Stormterror himself)

.

“The storm may seize our breath and yet

This song shall ne’er be put to rest.”

—“Oath of Ancient Freedom”, January 2023 (based on first poem in the sword Freedom-Sworn’s Chinese lore)

.

“If someone attempts to deprive you of song,

The freedom you seek, saying ‘Here you belong.’

.

Then raise your voice above the winds,

And fight back. For Mondstadt, forever.”

—“Eve of Ancient Freedom”, January 2023 (based on second poem in the sword Freedom-Sworn’s Chinese lore)

.

“‘a white alchemist.’”

“‘Those yellow flowers imitate the sun’s brilliance, you know.’”

.

“‘Last time you said, Into the storm, my love!

This time I urge you: In the pursuit of truth,

know that as a flame, it can warm you, it can burn,

so choose your distance carefully.

Lest you hurt yourself again.’”

—“Taraxacum Officinale: Pursuing True Spring Days”, June 12, 2023 (alludes to Albedo’s Solar Isotoma, and Diluc as a Pyro user)

.

“没想到是因为凯亚而踏到这一步…多谢。这家伙…的确配得上‘冰风剑士’之名。”

—caption of a 2021/2023 Kaeya art improvement post, July 6, 2023 (not really a poem. Practically sounds like his Ascension: Conclusion Voiceline in Chinese)

[kuwdora]

Multi-fandom Fic Recs

January 22 - What’s an underloved fic you loved in a fandom you don’t post much about? -@sargassostories

Oh, what a fabulous prompt, ty!!! I used to write so many recs back in the day and I’ve watched so much tv and read across so many fandoms over the years so this is far from comprehensive in terms of fandom reading spread. But it’s a good way to warm my reccing muscles up again. I always have more recs or can usually find some places with recs about that fandom.

Humor and Heart

Just Hear Those Slay Bells Jingling, Santa Clarita Diet. Abby/Eric. ~3k. Abby comes home from college on a break and just wants some time with her boyfriend but she just had to tempt fate. Laugh out loud perfect characterization.

Pain and Painting by foxtwin. Blackadder. Blackadder assists Prince George as he takes on a new hobby. This is one of the funniest, punniest wordplay fics ever. Blackadder fic writers are on another level!

Feel me like a steel knife by violet_pencil. Star Trek: Lower Decks. Mariner/Tendi. ~7k. Mariner is a trigger-happy baby and her heart is right between Tendi's sharp white teeth. The Mariner POV is incredible. I felt like I was joyriding through her brain.

Not a synonym for impossible by Siria. Elementary. Improbable was not a synonym for impossible. Joan and Alfredo discuss Alfredo’s crush on Miss Hudson, this is so cute.

Lest they be angels in disguise by singlecrow. Good Omens. Crowley, but Aziraphale/Crowley. 856 words. Buzzfeed, July 2019, "Top Five Off-the-Wall Theories About the Scary Instagram Plant Man.” Includes Instagram posts and internet gossip in this fic. 😂

There's a Fine Line Between Coincidence, Fate, and Jonathan Carnahan by celli. The Mummy. 483 words. Ardeth/Jonathon. Jonathan puffed up with outrage. "I will squander my fortune where I damn well please." 😍

This Dynamic

if loving you kills me by saiditallbefore. Wheel of Time. Nynaeve/Egwene. 642w. Nynaeve's eyes are warm and brown and full of life: so different from earlier, when Egwene had thought she was gone forever. ❤️🔥❤️

Finding Grace by Destina. Kings. Jack/David, Michelle/David. Post-series/futurefic. ~1300w. David's soul has three parts, and without all three, he is incomplete. 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Porn

Gifts, Smiles, and Fingers by @daerienn. For All Mankind. Molly/Margo. ~200w. A single Tootsie roll can have a lot of impact.

Meet Me In My Dreams by LiraClayr007. His Dark Materials. Lyra/Will. Post-canon. 200w. It had been almost ten years since they’d said goodbye forever and closed all the doorways, but Lyra knew what Will looked like. He’d aged in her mind, day after day and year after year; she didn’t know how she could know, but she was sure he looked exactly the way she pictured him.

Learned Arts, by darthjamtart. Elementary. Moriarty/Joan. ~400w. Explicit. Jamie knows how to be subtle, but rarely bothers. Not with this.

Domina, Spartacus, Illithya/Lucretia, power struggle, submission “Domina,” Illithya whispers before pressing her lips against Lucretia’s bare, inner thigh.

Kissing Girls, Leverage, Parker/Sophie Devereaux, falling, twirling Parker used to think that kissing was a lot like falling. Sometimes, if she knew she was in complete control, if she had all her safety equipment ready to catch her, if she could see exactly where she was going to end up, then falling was more thrilling than sickening. Kissing too.

Impossible Words, Doctor Who, Jack/Ten, the l word He still can't say it, the words. Those words that make everything so impossibly complicated. He digs his fingers into Jack's skin, feeling it give, knowing he will leave bruises there, visible in the morning.

Caged, Mario Games, Bowser/Peach, kidnap Don't tell anyone, but Peach doesn't entirely mind being kidnapped.

Not Charity Work, Better Off Ted, Veronica/Linda, mentoring Veronica's hair is spread over the pillow, her face flushed and sweat covering her skin. "I'm an excellent mentor."

Soup on the Wall, Star Trek AOS/Star Trek: The Original Series, Chapel/Spock. dream, pon farr, crash To be certain, it was not Ambassador Spock's idea to be ferried to New Vulcan aboard the Enterprise.

Three Sentence Fictionathon (not always 3 sentences, still excellent micro-fics!)

Any, any, Cards Against Humanity as played by nonhuman species by archersangel. Star Trek: Voyager. Tuvok, post-canon.

Boimler and Mariner, Ill-Advised Decisions by silveradept for my Star Trek Lower Decks prompt of “look what you made me do!”

The Expanse, Avasarala/Amos, flirting by vialethe. 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Narnia, if Narnia were written by Tolkien by arveldis. 😂 AND LASTLY:

These two ficlets are based on this prompt:

Based on this Tumblr Post where Sirens lure sailors to their death with offers of hot garlic bread, fast Wi-Fi, and $1000 Amazon Gift Cards.

An Informational Sign on the Coast by fallen_stage.

Netflix and Kill by syrena_of_the_lake

More Kuwdora Recs

+350 Porn Battle Recs, grouped by fandom, lots of crossovers and fandoms (dreamwidth)

+100 multi-fandom recs, grouped by whatever I read at the time and Yuletide reading marathons over the years (dreamwidth).

Even More Recs

Linky's Rec Post - A recs post by Linky on dreamwidth about communities that feature curated recs for fanfic, fanvids and art.

[memory-not-found]

Rules and general things! My main account is @krutchs-medbay

Currently Open Prompt Lists

Muse Headcanon Asks

Thoughts on Another Character

Webkinz Themed Headcanon

90 Loaded Questions

Angsty Character Questions

Posts will also be labeled with ic or ooc response to determine whether or not it's me or Karma speaking in the response. It's just another way of organizing stuff :>

I have never rp'd in this manner really before, but I want to give it a go to try and understand my main character better! I love him a lot, but I can't seem to nail down his personality just yet so this seems like a fun solution! Be mindful that I am a minor so this blog is staying SFW [minus some dark themes, gore, and the like]

For now I'm going to stick to ask-only type stuff, though I might branch out in the future if I get confident enough haha

I wouldn't say that Karma is only based within the IDW comics but I have stuck with them for the majority of the time making him. Other continuities are fine too, though I might be a bit more out of touch with them.

I will edit this as I go, so don't be afraid to check back here every once and a while! Some basic info about Karma below! (His ref sheet is here)

So, starting off, Karma can kind of flow between any continuity, but he's most stable in IDW. I'm cool with most other continuities though, save for animated because I know next to nothing about the show.

As for his knowledge over the war and it's inner workings, he never chose a proper side. He has certainly helped small groups of both factions, but other than that he's on his own. It's possible that he's met some of the bigger/more well known bots in these factions but his knowledge of most of the bots is based on reputation alone.

Karma is from a colony planet, which I have yet to name, but he knows a lot regarding the politics of the situation because of his upbringing. That doesn't mean he likes having the knowledge, or talking about it if someone brings it up. Generally, it's the opposite.

Karma has a slew of issues surrounding memory and, by proxy, struggles to regulate his emotions and outlook on the world. He yearns for proper stability, but his condition only gets worse the older he gets. Pictures and other known bits of his life can help. He'll probably complain of a massive helmache afterwards though.

Overall I'd say that Karma is reserved and keeps to himself a lot despite wanting to connect with other cybertronians. He's a bit clumsy due to his size and often worries a lot about bumping into others. Getting along with others once he starts talking to them is usually pretty easy, though there are plenty of times in history where his memory lapses have turned others away. He doesn't like bringing them up lest he be riddled with guilt.

He lived in a refugee camp for neutral cybertronians to gather and enjoy the little peace they could for a few years. Of course, good things don't always last forever. Karma was forced to leave his home and eventually settled down [if you can call it that] on a ship where he conducts his astronomy experiments and observations.

[cowardlychimera]

post about how as above, so below fits encore au Abbi yippee!

For a thousand years, here I've laid Making company with the moon Tracing pictures on the Milky Way Finding meaning in empty tunes

About her time spent with Sunny and Omori, reading to them in white space, helping find constellations in the sky, and even playing piano in the library!

Every star twinkles in its own way A fleeting moment gone too soon And the constellations stay the same Glowing for eons with nothing to prove

The stars are all the residents of headspace. At this point it's only the first year of Sunny's isolation, so headspace hasn't changed much, if at all. Residents haven't gone missing yet. Abbi worries they won't be here forever, but tries to ignore that.

The stars are beautiful, right? I wonder how that came to be I'll only behold that sight It's all that I can bear to see

Abbi wondering how exactly this world came to be, while talking to Sunny. She starts to worry about what would happen if Sunny left, or stayed. She doesn't want her home and friends to fade away, but she knows if Sunny stayed, there would be no chance for anyone to survive. She can't stand it.

Over time, I've come to know As above, so below And the stars above all know What you've done and where you'll go

It doesn't take long for Abbi to realize that Omori is willing to do anything to keep Sunny safe when Meido and Uni don't come back. Even if it means destroying their home and leaving friends behind. The stars left behind never forget though, and the rest learn quick.

When the night begins to fade Light will cast on your charades So best watch each word you say Lest they see the light of day

Abbi knows where Sunny goes when he disappears. She knows what he sees when he's awake. He's gone to her for help for many things, after all! And of course, she knows he's trying to hide things. She's the wisest, why wouldn't she?

For a thousand years, here I've stayed Building an archive of all I know In time, memories will warp and fade But in paper, they have a home

On to the second year now! Abbi's now one of the great three, with BYC and Humphrey. She decides to look after the library, keeping Sunny's memories safe. She knows how important they are, including the bad ones. She doesn't want anything bad to happen to them!

I've watched stars appear and fade away Lost to the darkness yet unknown And the constellations slowly change A bitter memory from long ago

Many headspace residents have been left in black space by now, and Abbi couldn't do anything to help them. She hasn't forgotten Meido and Uni.

You think the stars are pretty? You know, they're nothing but lies. It hurts, but all I can see Is their impending demise.

Abbi telling Sunny the truth about headspace. She knows this world was created by him. She knows what will happen if he stays. She tries to convince him to leave while he still can, knowing full well what might happen to her home if he does. He misunderstands her.

History cries its ghastly poem "As above, so below" The night sky is all I know But it's all too soon to go

Omori getting in between her and Sunny, and having red hands drag her away to black space. She knows she won't being seeing headspace or Sunny again any time soon.

In time, memories will fade Burnt records can't be saved But, in ashes, there I lay Praying for a new escape

The library disappearing from view, banished underground. All of Abbi's hard work keeping his memories safe, ruined. Abbi is left in the abyss, where the sun can't reach. She hopes she won't be there for long, even if she knows the others don't even know where she went.

The stars tell me what they know "As above, so below" I know I've reaped what I sowed I cannot let this go

The other Something variants telling her she should've been more careful, and that her first mistake was seeing Omori as a friend. She accepts she didn't handle it well, ignoring the comment about Omori. She's desperate to be forgiven.

So my archives fade away And the stars laugh in my face How I wish that I could stay But the truth is clear as day

Time passing until Sunny's last few days in Faraway are near. Abbi's library is gone, the other Something variants consider her foolish for thinking Omori isn't a monster, and she knows the end of their world is near. There's nothing she can do now but wait for the truth to be found for the last time.

[iviarellereads]

The Shadow Rising, Chapter 27 - Within the Ways

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Avendesora leaf icon) In which I hide my face in my hands for a minute.

PERSPECTIVE: Perrin. The darkness compresses the pole-lantern's light too close for comfort. He and Gaul are following Loial's party (Perrin refuses to call it Faile's) just fine. It's been nearly two days, as near as he can tell.

Perrin thinks back to the first island they'd encountered, where he was waiting for Faile et al. When she'd finally showed up, she hopped off her horse and slapped him, full-armed, asking what he meant by charging in like a boar. He says he told her not to slap him again, and she punched him in the shortribs. She's pulled her fist back to hit him again when he grabs her by the scruff of the neck and...

Well, she hadn't tried to pull any of her knives. She was furious with Loial for trying to intervene, and with Bain and Chiad for NOT intervening (Bain said when you pick the fight, you have to take the consequences), but worst of all, she didn't seem at all angry with Perrin anymore. That made him nervous, and her unshed tears made him feel guilty, which made him feel angry. Why should he feel guilty? Was he supposed to let her hit him to her heart's content?

She'd mounted her horse, refusing to sit gingerly, staring at him with an unreadable expression. He almost would have preferred if she'd drawn a knife.(2)

Back in the present, he's keeping his good damn distance from her entire party as they continue on through. Until, eventually, Faile calls out for Perrin to come to her. He approaches and asks what she wants, and she says that she wanted to see if he could be trained to come when she calls. Loial says it's not that at all, they've reached the white line that will lead them to the Manetheren Waygate.

Perrin smells something rank in the air, but he won't go so far as to suggest they start following the line, lest Faile accuse him of trying to take over. They're still just standing there on the island with the Guiding when Perrin hears hooves from the darkness, and the smell slams home: Trollocs.

They fight them off, though Perrin draws his hammer instead of his axe in the fray. Everyone takes injuries except Faile, and then a Fade shows up to partake in the fun. They take it down, too, and Perrin says they have to get out before they decide to attack again. Faile pulls her horse around and Perrin asks if she's going to argue, but she says not when he speaks sense. They take off, but hear Machin Shin following behind them. Machin Shin takes a couple of Trollocs that had followed them. They barely make it out alive and intact. Even so, Loial only “locks” the Waygate by taking the leaf-key from inside and placing it outside, he doesn’t want to remove the other key outside and break the thing forever. It makes no difference to Perrin.

Perrin looks around, and thinks of what he's heard about Manetheren, thinks of Winternight more than a year ago. He sees a pair of hawks, and one gets hit by an arrow. Who would be up here? Why would they shoot at hawks? The second hawk swoops to where its mate fell, but a black cloud of ravens bursts from the trees, surrounding it, and when they disperse the hawk is gone. Then he remembers his injuries, and as he starts to gather clean things to change into, before the Fade's blood starts burning him, Faile unbuttons his coat. She says she won't have him bleeding to death and leaving her the work of burying him. He has no consideration at all. He thanks her quietly. She cleans his wounds, and sews up the one that needs stitching.

While he dresses in clean things, she touches the slash in the side of his coat: two inches right, and he wouldn't have left the island. She throws the coat back at him, saying she's done all the sewing for him that she means to. He says he never asked her to fix the coat, and she says well then he needn't even think it. Perrin thinks he'll never understand her.

He sends his consciousness across the valley, seeking the touch of wolves, but he finds not a single one. There should have been many in this wilderness. Perhaps none are close enough, he can only talk to them across about a mile normally, maybe his range is smaller in the mountains. Maybe he'll find wolves tomorrow. He doesn't want to think about the alternative.(3)

=====

(1) An aside before I start: this icon is kind of ambiguous so far, but generally, it's going to signify Ogier and the Ways for obvious reasons (the key to every Waygate is always an Avendesora leaf) and also sometimes Nynaeve (consider her woodcraft and herb lore). (2) So, Perrin absolutely spanked Faile here. It's not stated outright, but there's hint enough in how he noticed how Faile wasn't sitting "gingerly", so he expected her butt to hurt. Spanking is RJ's biggest "is this an innocent trope or is it a fetish because you're using it way too often bud" writing habit. Worse is that Faile's emotional expression took the form of hitting Perrin. And she was going for it hard. Domestic abuse is no joke, no matter who's perpetrating it or what their relative body sizes or strengths. There's no amount of "it's the culture she was raised in" that makes this okay, no amount of "she's just 17". There's no amount of anything that makes this okay. I understand what RJ was going for here, because he does use moments like this to lampshade our-world gender relations, but sometimes (perhaps often) those attempts fall flat. There was no need of this but here we are with it anyway. Someone really needs to sit Faile down and help her sort out her life. Come on, RJ, you wrote this incredible character, did THIS need to be her and her culture's flaw? (3) That alternative, of course, being that the wolves he should've been near to awaken his ability and become some sort of pack with, the ones who should have been like kin to him, are dead.

[bigimotikwriting]

Their Future - Part 30

Master Post

"What do you mean, 'created the Guardian'?" Munto hovered protectively over Gass, who was ashen under the space-time runs scrawled across his face.

"It is straightforward: your people were nothing - simple magic casters with hardly any skill to recommend you. I did what any evolved life form would do: I offered my advice and a choice."

"A choice to do what?" growled Munto. Slowly, Gass sat up, breathing heavily and sweating profusely, but alert.

"Abandon their material forms to become one with akuto," Lady Amsaralle said with a cold glee. "In exchange, I was able to watch your society descend into madness over a thousand years."

Munto froze. "Why?"

Lady Amsaralle drifted around them in a circle. "Some of your kind might say they live forever, but I actually do. You cannot imagine the level of ennui I endure from such longevity. I must arrange myself entertainment from time to time - lest I pursue the more destructive alternatives."

"Then whatever powers you granted Gridori - that was all for your pleasure?" Munto dug his claws into the floor.

"Just as it was when I granted your first Outsider their ability to manipulate space-time magic - with stipulations, of course."

Gass was starting to get onto his feet and then fell back on the floor. Munto was immediately at his shoulder.

"When I say run, you run," Gass murmured under his unsteady breath.

"I'm not leaving you here," Munto said in desperation. It was almost like he was about to lose his father again.

"You must," he said with a strained smile. Gass lifted the remainder of his arm and brushed against Munto's chest.

Munto was overwhelmed with the emotions that flooded into his heart. Alas, there was no time to process any of it because Gass let loose a massive cloud of space time magic in Lady Amsaralle's direction.

"Run!"

Munto did as he was told, sprinting away from that courtyard, from that cursed castle, his breath choppy and filled with pain. As he ran, it was almost as though he could hear Gass's voice one last time:

If I could have sired offspring, it is my sincerest wish that they would be like you, Munto.

Save travels, Outsider.

This time Munto did scream, unable to hold back his anger. He could have pleaded harder for Gass to join him, but such efforts would have been in vain, as the Guardian's answer would not have changed. There was nothing the young king could have done.

Leaving the fortress behind, Munto was alone again, and in that infinite darkness, he mourned.

Wrapped in his sadness, he almost missed the spark of blue light, trembling and weak.

Yumemi?

The luminescence of the spark started to grow stronger, brighter, and bigger. Munto raised his hand, letting the black ruins to form magic rings around his forearm. A crack formed in the dark, and he grasped onto a line of brilliant blue light that pulled him through the portal.

[ohnococo]

All For You | Reiner Braun x Reader

Summary: You and Reiner have sex for the first time.

Notes: Post time-jump, though there’s not even the tiniest bit of plot in this porn. Pls be gentle, it’s my first time writing in this fandom and I just want to take care of Reiner (don’t we all tho?)

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Post time skip, PWP, Vaginal Sex, Creampie

NSFW/18+ ONLY Under the cut!

You feel it as you ease down onto Reiner, his every muscle is tensed beneath you. Each slow inch deeper and deeper into your warmth has him shuddering and expelling jagged breaths as though they were being forced from him. You can see from the way his eyes try desperately to focus on you and how he clenches and unclenches the sheets with your every move, that everything in his body is telling him to thrust. To grab you by your hips and pull you down onto him, fast and hard, fast enough to break you, fast enough to break him, and with enough intensity to have you both fused together by your jagged ends. He resists, brain always conquering heart, and lets you sink down slower and slower still. When you finally settle down against his hips, clenching around the expanse too wide for your walls to do much more than grip at weakly, he lets out a drawn out groan, a sound not unlike a final breath. As you begin rocking on his cock, adjusting, squirming, Reiner smooths his hands across the cool sheets as if searching - but forcing himself to only feel around blindly in the same small circle.

“You can touch me, Reiner.”

He blinks away the haze clouding his vision, trying his hardest to focus on your sweet face as he considers his options and looks almost worried for a moment.

You know exactly where his mind is at and meet him halfway. “You can’t hurt me, I promise.”

Tentative hands slide from the sheets to meet your knees and you take the final step of pulling them up to your hips where he squeezes lightly. His grip tightens reflexively when you slide up his length slowly, as high as your range of motion - limited by the size of the man you were sitting atop - will allow. Once you sink back down onto him he lets out another low groan, as if your weight were instead on his chest, pushing the air from him. You establish a rhythm, and despite the large hands gripping you there is no attempt to change it, so you continue to move faster and harder down onto him. Each time you pick up your pace his hands have to readjust from trembling against your skin, as if he might have to force them back to his sides, to gripping you tightly as if you might float away and deny him your warm embrace.

You relish in the small noises bubbling up from his swollen lips, music to your ears as you commit the dark blush across his cheeks to your memory. He sounds almost as if it’s a shock to his system every time he’s buried fully inside of you, filling you to the brim, his breaths becoming quieter and quieter. Eventually all you can hear over the lewd sounds of engulfing his cock with your wetness is the small choked groans stuck in his throat as he stares in awe at where the two of you meet.

“Breathe, baby, you’ve gotta breathe.”

It’s as if he’d needed permission all along, the way he begins taking deep breaths, chest shaking, stomach twitching, and then releases all of his pent up energy in a long broken whine. With his laboured breaths and glassy eyes, it occurs to you that you’d love nothing more than to make him try and speak for you through all of this.

“How does it feel, Reiner? Is it good?”

He pulls a trembling lip between his teeth, eyes darting up to meet yours, traveling up and down your jiggling body, then rolling into the back of his head as you clench around him with each drag up his throbbing length. He nods, though the movement is so small it’s barely perceptible.

“You’ve got to speak for me baby, let me know if i’m making it good enough for you.”

He shuts his eyes tightly and you allow it, knowing you may never get a coherent sentence out of him if you were to force him to watch you taking him. “It’s… of course it is… s’good. So good.” He ends his babbling with a deep a breathy sigh of your name and the way it makes you shiver on top of him, pussy fluttering as heat pools all the faster in your core, has him whispering your name again and again in search of that same reaction, until it’s too much for him to say even that.

You know you’re pushing yourself too far with a cock as big as Reiners, but you can’t help going faster, bringing yourself down onto him harder, anything to keep hearing the noises he’s making. Anything to make him open wide beneath you like you’d never seen before. You lean forward, bracing yourself on his broad chest, crouching so your weight is on your feet instead of your knees to give yourself that little bit more room to slide up until only the thick head of his cock is anchored inside of you only to slam back down hard and fast. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a tinge of selfishness in the movement, loving the drag of his silky cock against the sweet spot inside of you, but nothing was more important to you in this moment than the sounds being ripped from Reiner. Deep moans punctuated by helpless whines as he emptied his lungs, followed by gasps of air inward bordering on little hiccups as he desperately tries to wrap his head around just how good you could make him feel.

You want to both be trapped in this moment forever, a blissful in between where nothing matters to one but what the other can give, but you know if you don’t keep control you’ll be giving out and spent long before he is.

“I need you, Reiner.”

The words have his eyes snapping open, and he tries his very best to focus on you, on the urgency in your voice. You know you can only keep his mind on track for moments at a time with the way you were about to milk him dry, but you too are falling into a state of delirium at the feel of him stretching you so well even as he lies doing nothing but twitching and whining beneath you. As the coil within you tightens, threatening to break and leave your words unsaid, you rush to give him the purpose he needs, lest he lie there all night heaving and moaning without the release you intended for him from the very start.

“Need you to fill me. Need you to cum for me.”

The haze clouding his eyes clears for only a moment as he very suddenly looks alert, almost alarmed. Alarmed that his body is acting on your command, not his, and that the orgasm coursing through him in white hot strides from his toes all the way up and into his tightening balls were for your sake, and yours alone. He groans, he whimpers, he cries, all movements that happen without his control as he fills you with all that he has to offer. In the end, it may have indeed been only for you as his heat flooding you seems to spread throughout your body as you clench and cum around him. You make as much of a mess of him as he does of you, your slick pouring down and pooling on his hips, and rock against him holding him deep as he will go as you ride out both of your orgasms. This is the bliss you’d always wanted him to have. This is only a piece of all the things he intends to give you.

[ppersonna]

thunder - ksj | m

your voice was the soundtrack of my summer. do you know you're unlike any other? you'll always be my thunder. - thunder, boys like girls

↳ summary- you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year.  apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

↳ word count- 6k

↳ genre- fluff, tiny angst, smut, comedy

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, light dom!jin, light sub!reader, fucking in tents haha ha ha ha, cum play, cum eating, possessive dirty talk

↳ a/n- wow hello! its been so long since i uploaded a fic i almost forgot how to do it! i would like to give you a fic that i’ve had in my storage since march, and one i’m excited to finally finish. i’d be nowhere without @taetaewonderland​ @xjoonchildx​ @ladyartemesia​ for hyping me up to post it in the first place.  thank u to @shadowsremedy​ for being my fav beta ily ily ily. enjoy my babes! pls feel free to message me!

 “Kim Seokjin, if you got us lost, I’m going to murder you,” you seethed as your pulled your booted foot out of a slick puddle of mud. 

“I didn’t get us lost, dear. The map is wrong,” he replied coolly as he twisted the crumpled map from portrait to landscape, and back again. “I’m an excellent navigator, but when the tools I have are faulty…”. 

You grumbled, stopping your walk to sit on a fallen log. You sighed audibly at your best friend, still maneuvering in the small clearing in the forest, trying to match the map to where you were. You chanced a look at the sky as you sought to catch your breath and sate your anger. Dark, heavy clouds were forming, the kind that didn’t just indicate a sprinkle but a torrential downpour. 

“Shit, Jin. It’s going to storm soon,” you warned.  

He stopped his map seeking and glanced at the sky, frown buried deep in his face. 

Instantly, as if it never changed, he returned to his bright and cheery demeanor. 

“Well! Looks like we should work faster to make it back to camp, huh?” 

Seokjin would be excited for an unexpected kink in your plans. The boy was obsessed with “roughing it”. You agreed to one weekend with minimal hiking. Camping, in your opinion, was meant to be spent drunk around a fire eating s’mores and telling scary stories, not walking for miles through nothing but trees, mud, and probably bears.

Camping had never been your favorite hobby, and you allowed Seokjin to take you off trail backpacking once per year. The man looked forward to it, planned it several months in advance, and counted down the days until he stuffed you in his Jeep down a deserted forest highway to the campsite. 

Only, Jin never took the “minimal hiking” thing too seriously. 

“It’s an easy hike,” he had promised you that morning as you set up camp. “More of a stroll than anything.” 

You kicked at the dirt beneath you now, upset you had listened to the dark-haired man’s empty promises. 

“How about we just go back the way we came from?” You suggested as you stood up and brushed the dirt off your backside from the log. 

“Nonsense,” he sniffed. “I’ve got it right here. We can take this trail,” he gestured at a clearing through the trees, “for about a mile, turn left at the open valley, and we’ll be back at camp two miles after that!”  He proclaimed his findings as if it were so easy, so obvious. 

“Great, three miles of hiking. After we’ve already done four, at least.”

“Yes, my ever-positive sunshine, you should be happy I found us a shortcut.” He patted your head and smiled at you as he adjusted your backpack strap that was sliding off your shoulders. He lingered, eyes on you and your lips for just a fraction too long, before he turned and began leading you through the forest. 

Your heart was racing, unrelated to the elevation or the hike. 

You gave in so easily to Jin not because he was your best friend since childhood, but also because he was the man you were hopelessly in love with. 

You’d been smitten with the older boy since your senior year of high school, when he jokingly asked you to prom and you realized you wanted Seokjin courting you to be a regular occurrence. 

You stayed by his side through it all, all girlfriends and breakups. It hurt to watch him with another, but maintaining his friendship was more important than anything else and you weren’t about to lose him to a crush that you could easily just avoid. 

Seokjin was attached to your hip, a fact your friends never let you live down. They were relentless in encouraging you two to be alone, and for you to admit your feelings to him. They told you they were sure he would reciprocate it.  

Unbeknownst to them, you had admitted it. 

You and Jin once got messy drunk on the floor of your apartment, where you slithered up into his lap and whispered your secret devotion to your best friend. Seokjin merely laughed and kissed your nose. You were so embarrassed and rejected you never brought it up again. Best to leave it be, rather than bring a 15 year friendship to a screeching halt. 

So—you valiantly stood by him as his best friend and confidante. You were there when he excitedly told you about his new girlfriend, or when he called you crying over their breakup. Your heart twinged at both; you wanted to be the reason for his excitement and the balm to his wounded heart. 

You allowed Seokjin to take you on all his wild adventures. Like now—traipsing through the forest with no direction in sight, because you would have done nearly anything for the boy.

A crack of thunder shook you from your thoughts and you jumped at the sudden sound. 

“Ah, so cute,” he smiled at you, “still afraid of thunder?”

You blushed and pouted. “It just surprised me, is all.”

He smirked as if to say he didn’t believe you and nodded. “We should get a move on, don’t want to get caught in the rain.” 

You shivered at the thought. It was already cool in the forest; the trees providing enough coverage it locked out any sun, if there had been any. You quickly moved in step behind your best friend. It only took a few minutes of silence before the telltale pitter patter of droplets on leaves began. A fat raindrop landed on your forehead. 

“Fuck,” you groaned. “It’s starting.”  

“I know,” Jin suddenly looked worried, his confident demeanor cracking. He looked back at you and tightened the straps on his backpack. 

“Let’s run?”

You were powerless to deny any request from him. Plus, you didn’t really feel like getting drenched. 

You adjusted your own backpack and took off, running through the quickly dampening forest beside Seokjin. 

The rain came in a downpour. It hit you hard, blurring your vision. Seokjin slipped his hand into yours, not wanting to lose you in the storm. You pushed your legs in time with his, jumping around fell logs and rocks and skipping large puddles. 

You were drenched as Seokjin pulled you into a makeshift canopy of rocks, a momentary pause from the storm to catch your breath. Your hair was soaking wet, as if freshly showered. Seokjin’s hair stuck to his face, and you smiled as he looked at you with concern. It only took a moment until you were both bursting with laughter, finding humor at the moment. 

It was something you loved about Seokjin. He always knew how to make you laugh in times it seemed impossible. 

“This sucks,” you spoke through your joyful laughter.  He nodded in agreement. 

“I think we’re almost back. We need to turn soon, and then we’ve got about two more miles. You ready?”

You agreed and pushed back the slick hair in your eyes, before doing the same for him. His eyes sparkled. You didn’t know what it meant. 

In an instant, you were running again. The backpack bounced against your back and rain pounded your body. The things you did for Kim Seokjin. You were whipped, and you knew it. 

The trail seemed like it went on forever. You both became so tired of running that you slowed and trudged slowly through mud as rain pelted you, accepting your fate of soaking to the bone. You were sure you had never been this drenched in your life.  Your clothes were stuck to your body and dripping down into your shoes and socks. Your teeth chattered in the breeze—it felt as if the wind whipped right through you.  The sky rumbled again, as if warning you to hurry lest it dump more rain on you.

Seokjin was always the caring companion. He rubbed your shoulders and arms to warm them up and promised a roaring fire. You hated how much it made your heart burst.

You were very much looking forward to your one-man tent, stocked with a sleeping bag and blankets. You could strip down and dry off and slip into the warmth of your own personal nest. 

Seokjin waxed poetic about his own spacious tent—a lofty family sized one, and how he made sure he brought his sleeping bag along with 8 thick blankets, and how he couldn’t wait to snuggle down into his own.  Seokjin was the picture of preparedness. He even kept a locking box full of snacks in his tent because the boy was a foodie and couldn’t survive without the treats. It came in handy. 

“What would you do if we were stuck out here forever?” You posed to your best friend, curious about his response and desperate to pass the time as you hiked. 

“Well,” he thought aloud. “I’d miss the guys. But I’d be happy to be stuck out here with you.”  

Your cheeks flushed. 

“You wouldn’t miss, ah—what’s her name? Miya?” 

Seokjin shrugged. “She’s fun. She’s not you, though.”

You couldn’t help but grumble internally. She was good enough to date, and you weren’t. She was different in some respect. 

“Are things not going well with her?” You asked, secretly hoping they weren’t.

“It’s fine. She’s nice and all,” he sighed.  “Just, there’s no spark there, you know?”  

You knew all too well. Any man you tried to date paled compared to your best friend, and the fireworks behind your every heartbeat when you were near him.

“What about you?” He was peering into your eyes and into what felt like your soul. “You and Jungkook sure seem cozy.” His tone sounded annoyed, sarcastic even.

You couldn’t help but bark a laugh. 

“Oh god, no,” you shook your soggy head.  “Not my type. We’re good friends and that’s it. Plus, I’m sure he’s into Jimin.”

Seokjin shrugged again. “You sit on his lap and cuddle up to him all the time…”

“Are you jealous?” You smirked, nudging the man.  Please, god, please be jealous.

“N-No!” He was sharp. “I’m not.”

Ouch.

You remained silent, eyes downcast at your muddy boots as you walked alongside the man.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a beat of silence. 

“Don’t worry about it, Seokjin. I got it—loud and clear.”

Seokjin looked hurt, a wave of dissatisfaction crossing his features. He wanted to say something, mouth opening to continue his apology. You ignored it wholly. He knew your feelings. There was no way he couldn’t remember that night. You pushed ahead of the man, walking in front of him to avoid his pained gaze and likely hurried apology.  

The light of day was leaving. Everything around you was steadily getting darker, and the rain showed no sign of giving up. You silently begged to be back to the safety of your camp soon, lest you become walking mountain lion bait.

“There’s camp!” Seokjin finally pointed and ran through the rain ahead of you.

“Oh thank fuck,” you sighed, feeling as if it lifted a weight from your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to strip out of your soaking clothes and slither into your blankets.

“Oh shit,” Seokjin whispered, stopping where he stood.  You followed his gaze, concerned about what stopped the boy so quickly.   

Your tent was ripped open, the insides of it exposed to the wind and rain. Everything you owned was soaking wet. You had set it up in a clearing with not too many trees above it, and it appeared the lack of protection against the wind and rain tore the poor fabric to shreds.

A worn-out and distraught sob left your lips.

“No!”  

You ran to the tent and nearly cried. Fortunately, beyond just being soaking wet and useless for the night, everything was intact. There was only no warmth to be had. No warm clothes to change into. Nothing.  

“What the fuck am I going to do?!” 

Seokjin placed a hand on your shoulder.  

“You can share with me?” He sounded hopeful. “We can hang your clothes to dry and when the storm passes, we can build a fire and let your tent air out.  But you should probably sleep in my tent tonight.” 

You bit your lip. You had slept with Seokjin in more beds than you could count, always being forced to share a bed as the designated ‘best friends who don’t care’.  And it was never easy for you. You always woke up with the delicious scent of his cologne and shampoo, and your body curled around his. His hardness would always be pressed up against you, and it took all you had not to wrap your mouth around it to wake him up.

“Yeah, thanks Seokjin,” you breathed. “I’m fucking freezing. And I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep.”

Seokjin slipped his backpack off and pulled yours off your frame. He hung them from a sturdy branch, protected by layers of trees overhead, to let them dry.  

“I have some towels in my tent, go on in. You can get dry and hand me your wet clothes to hang. Then you can get in the blankets and I’ll make us something to eat.”

You blushed. Seokjin hadn’t seen you fully naked, ever; at least not since you were toddlers.

Slipping into his blankets while stark nude would be a dream. It was something you fantasized about more than you’d care to admit. But, in the current conditions, being naked and clammy in the blankets next to your best friend who didn’t return any feelings for you sounded more like an awkward moment waiting to happen.

If Seokjin noticed anything, he didn’t show it. He acted as if making you strip in his tent was a normal thing, nothing out of the ordinary. 

“I’ll wait out here,” he nodded dutifully. 

You slipped out of your muddy boots and socks, and into his tent. It was nice and spacious, and the blankets looked incredibly enticing. It was kind of Seokjin to let you stay with him, even kinder that he would remain soaking wet to make you something to eat. Your body felt so worn out and drained, and you were sure he did too. 

You peeled the wet clothing off of you, every bit, before sticking your head out the door and handing him the clothes.  

“Don’t worry about food, okay? You should get dry too.”  

He wrinkled his forehead. 

“You sure?” 

You bit your lip and nodded. 

“I’m sure. Plus, we have your snacks.”

“Ah, good thinking,” he shot his finger guns at you. “I’ll be there in a minute, then. Hand me a towel and I’ll get undressed out here.”

You shyly handed him a towel, now very aware that you and Seokjin would be in the same tent—naked. The thought thrilled you as much as it scared you. 

It didn’t take long to burrow yourself into his freshly made bed roll, sliding into the neat layers. Seokjin was nearly military in his routine and order.  Everything was always tucked, pressed, and laid down perfectly. 

Your body wracked with shivers and chills—the blankets and sleeping bag were cold from the ambient air outside. You folded yourself together in a fetal position to maintain some warmth. It felt good to lie down on the soft bed mat, but the blankets were doing nothing to provide warmth. 

The sound of the zipper opening the front door flap of the tent made you shake harder. You could feel the wind blow through the opening now. The sound of the storm was loud, and you were grateful for the heavy tarp covering Seokjin’s tent. It provided some respite from the wind and kept all water off the tent. At least Seokjin had been smart in his setup. You ignored the man’s suggestions to set up better, and you were fully regretting it now.

Seokjin had the towel wrapped around his waist and stepped about the tent easily. He dabbed at his upper body with a smaller towel from his suitcase and rubbed his hair dry. The normally perfectly coiffed head was now static-y and sticking up wildly. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so cold. 

Seokjin moved around you and slid into the blankets, leaving a large space between you, before he threw the towel around his waist onto the floor. He was naked now; you noted internally. You both were. A shiver ran down your spine, unrelated to the relentless chill.

It was silent. All you could hear was the beating of the rain on the tarp and your teeth chattering as you shivered. 

Seokjin stole a look at you, finally, and noticed your position, holding yourself to build warmth. 

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked. 

“I’m j-j-just col-l-ld,” you whispered. “And t-t-tired.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but you heard the scratching sound of a moving sleeping bag and rustling of blankets and suddenly felt a very warm, very naked body pressed against you. It was blissful, and you moaned out loud at the feel of him spooning you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You didn’t know what for, and couldn’t bring yourself to reply. 

You burrowed yourself down into his warmth and felt his arms wrap around you, securing you against him. He radiated heat. He felt like heaven. Your eyes closed—he had you feeling like you had stepped into a delicious sauna.

Seokjin’s muscular arms hadn’t moved an inch since they wrapped around you, but now his hands slowly rubbed at your torso, warming you everywhere his hand dragged. It felt electrifying and your body relaxed easily under his delicate fingertips. 

It started out innocent, rubbing along your stomach and side to warm you further. But his hand began straying north, reaching the crest of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he rubbed over the cold swells. Your nipples were hard from the chill and pebbled even further with the touch of his hands. It made a gasp stick in your throat.

His lips touched your neck, lightly. They were warm too. It seemed his entire body was twenty degrees warmer than your own, and every touch felt like a raging flame. His hands continued rubbing along your breasts as he laved and sucked.

 at the column of your throat.  

As instantly as it began, Seokjin stopped. His hands hovered above your breasts. 

He pressed kisses to your neck and face. “We should sleep, babe,” he sighed.  

You wanted to protest, to push him further, to take care of what he started, but you couldn’t find the energy. Seokjin’s warmth matched with the comfort of his bedroll, and the soothing rise and fall of his breath was lulling you into sleep. Even though it was still early evening, the hike and the run back to safety took it all out of you.  

Seokjin’s arms felt like safety. He secured them around you, slipping just underneath your breasts where his thumb could trace alongside the bottom as you easily succumbed to sleep.

It was still dark when you woke.  

The rain was still coming down, light this time. It sounded relaxing, soothing. Seokjin was still spooning you, sleeping soundly behind you. You twisted in his grasp to gaze at him. 

His hair was dry now, sticking out randomly about his pillow. You were sure if he saw it he’d panic, normally so precise with his looks. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, none of his chaotic energy and dramatic charisma. 

You loved every facet of Seokjin. You loved the flamboyance, the sensitivity, the deep compassion for his friends.  

You turned around, as gently and quietly as you could, and pressed a hand to his cheek—rubbing at the warm and soft flesh. He sighed softly in his sleep, moving against his pillow. An eye cracked open, and he stared at you. 

“Why are you awake?” He whispered, his voice gentle. “It’s still dark.” 

He was confused, and the look that graced his features was adorable. You wanted to photograph it and frame it, make it the lock screen of your phone. 

You shook your head. 

“Don’t know.”

Seokjin’s hand rubbed at your shoulder, then up to your face. He tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled at you. 

“You look so cute in the moonlight.”

You closed your eyes, letting his compliment wash over you. You couldn’t find the words to reply. You let him continue caressing your cheek, feeling as if you were living a fantasy where Seokjin touched you like a lover. 

You were so close to him, chest pressing against his own. Something about the quiet storm, the dark tent, had you disregarding any embarrassment you should have felt pressing your naked tits to the man's chest, but the spell of the forest had you pressing closer. Your lips were inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your lips. 

The feel of Seokjin’s lips pressing against yours was light, but felt as if all the fireworks in the world exploded behind your eyes and within your belly. It started sweet, gentle. You kissed him like you always wanted to, full of unrequited love and unwavering desire. Your arms slithered around his neck, pulling him even closer against you.  

The kiss turned deeper, mouths opening to allow the passage of tongues. He sought into your mouth, caressing yours with his own, pouring what felt like his very spirit into you. His hand left your back and slid up your sides to press against your breast. 

“Seokjin,” you murmured, feeling your brain swirl headily. “Feels good.”

He didn’t reply, only kept kissing at your neck and pinching gently at your hardened nipples. It made you cry out, gaping at the slight pain.

“If you want me to stop, tell me.” 

His words were gentle. His hands stilled, stopping all ministrations against you.

Your breath was hard and shaky, matching the erratic beat of your heart in your ribcage. Your unrequited crush of years was now roaming your body, touching you as a lover rather than a friend.

“Please, don’t stop.”

He was on you again, now bloodthirsty for any part of your skin to touch. He tugged at your nipples, suckled up your neck to kiss and lick at the shell of your ears.  You pressed against him, gasping at the feel of his now stiff cock. He circled his hips, relishing in the feel of you against him. You wondered how he would feel inside you. He was thick and long—it would be a stretch, and a most delicious and welcome one.

He pressed you back against the pillow, hovering over your body as he kissed down your neck and sucked at the pressure points there. A pleasured sigh passed through your open lips, reveling in the feel of him on your skin. It was something you dreamed about often. It felt unreal to finally have it. 

You were on display for him, and his eyes raked over you as if you were a Dalí in the Louvre. His hands slid up to cup your breasts, and you tilted your head back to moan. You didn’t care at all about how you looked, how this might be awkward in the next few hours. You cared only about feeling Seokjin within you, getting him off, succumbing to your own pleasure wrought by his hands and his cock.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighed. “Wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you gasped as he slid a finger down to your core, circling faintly over your slick folds.

“Have you?”

“Seokjin, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

Seokjin closed his eyes and smiled, breathing through his nose in contentment.

“You weren’t just saying that when you were drunk then.”

You shook your head, and Seokjin opened his eyes to peer at you.

“No, Seokjin,” you whispered needily, his finger still so torturously close to your clit. “I meant it.”

He leaned down with a smile and planted gentle kisses on your cheeks, adoring and gentle.  

“I’ve been in love with you too. I thought you were just drunk. I never acted on it because I didn’t want to get my heart broken.”

He pulled up and allowed his free hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” He asked. “Like, really fucking hard. You good with that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. A deep, hearty chuckle passed between both of you, enamored with each other and the situation of being naked and intertwined together, the warmth of your matched confessions surrounding you.  

“Fuck me, please,” you begged.

And Seokjin would be loath to deny you.

His teasing finger finally slid into your core, fucking into you with ease from your slick walls.  You gasped at the welcome intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as he began a slight pace and watched the way you fell apart.

“So pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty.”

He slipped another finger in, scissoring them open as he worked at you.  Your legs trembled, and it made the older man smirk.  

“Look at you,” he praised. “So easily turned into a *gushing* puddle for me.”

You nodded pathetically, back arching as he added yet another finger and pressed at the spot inside you that had your mind spinning and thoughts erasing.

“Oh—God, Jin!”

As much as Jin wanted to see you get off around his fingers, he was desperate for more. You were finally all his—something he’s wanted since he could remember. All he’s wanted was for you to be his.

He pulled his fingers from inside you and smiled as they came out slicked up with your own essence.  He ensured you made eye contact with him, then popped them into his mouth one-by-one, to suck them clean.

It made your mouth nearly fall to the floor as you watched him suck his fingers clean of you. Your body trembled with a need you hadn’t felt before. It was stronger than anything you’d felt before. It was unadulterated desire for Seokjin.

“Mm,” he sighed happily as he pulled the final digit from his mouth. “Delicious, as I thought.”

“Oh, my god,” you gaped. “Jin…,”

The man merely shook his head and smiled, crowding you down and hovering over your lips.

“You’re mine now, you got that?” 

His eyes tracked yours, watching your every movement. It took you a moment to swallow your nerves, to regain any ounce of confidence.

“I’ve always been yours, Seokjin.”

He held you down, watching you with a gleam of wonder in his eye, before surging forward and planting his lips onto yours. His tongue dove in instantly, seeking solace in the warmth of your mouth. Allowing him passage was easy, almost natural. Jin’s tongue swirled around your own as your arms slithered around his neck to bring him closer. Kissing Jin felt like everything you’d imagine it would be, and yet like nothing you could have even dreamed.

Jin didn’t just kiss you—he consumed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His chest pressed against your body and he groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your perky breasts pushing into his own broad chest.

“Baby,” he whispered as he pulled away. 

It sounded like a dream—the pet name fell from Jin’s lips so easily, as if it were always meant to be spoken to you.

“You’ve always been the one I wanted,” he breathed as he pressed his lips down your neck. “Always the girl I wanted and could never have.”

“Jin,” you gasped as your fingers carded through his hair. “Jin, you’ve always had me.”

He lifted his head and peered deep into your eyes again, so deep it felt like he was glimpsing into your soul.

“I only want you. No one else.”

It knocked you breathless, and it took a moment for you to refill your lungs before nodding.  

“I’m all yours.”

There was acknowledgement in both your admissions. An understanding that there was no more separation of you, and of Jin. That after tonight, it would be a partnership, and the beginnings of something more, something you’ve only dreamt of with the older man.

“Mine,” he whispered, before pressing his lips back to yours.

The kiss was sweet, nearly cloyingly sweet, as his hands cupped your face. He kissed you with every intention, every desperate plea he’s held in his heart for you.

Jin’s length pressed against you—his hips rutting minutely as he kissed you.

“Jin,” you gasped as you pulled away from his lip locked embrace. “Please, I need you.”

Jin’s charming smile spread across his lips, blooming your heart along with it.

“As you wish,” he whispered as he pressed in for another soft kiss..

Instantly, Jin flipped around and switched positions, guiding you to sit atop his hips while he settled down into the mess of blankets and pillows.

“What?” He asked as he noticed your confusion at the sudden mood change, a smirk rising on his puffy lips. “You think I’m gonna let you lay back and make me do all the work?”

There he was, your Seokjin. Never able to keep a comment to himself, regardless of the situation—always working to make you laugh. It made your heart sing.

His hands slid to grip at your hips while you lifted yourself up to hover over his hardened length, lining up the tip to just graze the wetness there.

“You see what you do to me?” You asked with a coy smile. “You see how badly I want you?”

Jin bit his lip, mesmerized by the way your cunt slicked up the head of his cock, desperate to spear into you but holding back.

“Fuck—,” he breathed. “P-Prove it.”

A smirk crossed your features before you took the plunge and allowed his length to slip inside you as you sank to his hips.  The intrusion was welcome, and you gaped at the sensation of him plunging deep.

“Oh, my God!” Jin gasped as you had taken him to the hilt.  His eyes bulged for a moment before they closed in bliss.  “You feel so fucking good.”

You didn’t need to speak. The feeling of Jin’s thick length inside of you was more than enough agreement.  He felt so thick, so long, prodding at the spot inside you that had you weak and stretching you wide to make you gasp at the sizzle of pain.  After a moment of adjusting to his size, you let your hands fall to his chest as you began to slowly rise and fall and set a pace on his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he whined—eyes wide open and watching you bounce on him. “Shit, this is where you belong.”

You eagerly pinched at your nipples as your pace quickened, nodding at Jin’s encouraging words. Your mouth felt dry, and you felt unable to even vocalize your pleasure beyond your loud sighs and moans.

“Jin,” you breathed.

He nodded, assisting your pace by gripping your hips.  He tugged you down, face to face, to rest on his chest while your hips kept their quick speed of enveloping his cock in your tight heat.  He let a hand cup the side of your face, the other moving to grip your ass.

“You’re all fucking mine,” he grunted as he thrusted his cock up into you, matching the rhythm of your rise and fall. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good every day, baby.”

You nodded quickly, heartbeat rising as you quickened each pound.  Jin’s lips pressed to yours again, this time messier, hotter.  He licked into your mouth, desperate for any more of you he could consume.

“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” he said, cock still thrusting deep inside you. “Let me fuck you from behind?”

You didn’t bother replying, simply removing yourself from his body and assuming the position on your hands and knees.  Jin scrambled to line up behind you, hand pumping his slick cock as he marveled at the sight of you presented for him.

“Take me, please,” you whispered, turning your head to peer at him with a desperate smile. “Fuck me until I can’t see straight.”

Jin hissed an expletive, before lining himself up in your sodden folds and plunging in without a second thought.  Your eyes widened at the new angle, gasping as you felt it hit different areas inside of you that had you squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock.

Jin’s hands gripped your ass, your hips, anywhere he could leave his brutal fingerprints.

“God, you take my cock like a fucking queen,” he gasped as the sound of skin slapping echoed around the tent. “Look at your pussy, so fucking wet for me.”

He marveled at the way his cock plunged deep inside you, then came out covered in your creamy slick.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let me claim this pussy with my cum?”

The pleasure was overwhelming—it felt like every nerve ending was lit on fire, and you were a burning fuse about to detonate into a thousand brilliant explosions.  Each thrust of Jin’s thickness had you crying for more, moans echoing off the trees outside.  You were suddenly thankful you were in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to be loud and needy.

Jin reveled in your desperate sighs and the way your body pushed back against his to match his pace.  He knew his end was coming, knew it was going to be short-lived from the start. He’s wanted your body for as long as he could remember, and wanted you in his life as his lover, his girlfriend, more than just what he had been relegated to for so long.  

“Mm, baby, you look so good on your knees for me, fuck,” he gasped as his speed increased. “I can’t wait to make you cum on my cock every fucking day, love. This is my pussy now.”

Jin’s possession of your body made you see stars, vision blurring as your cunt tightened its grip around his cock.  Jin gasped at the grip and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby, fuck. Cum for me, angel. Let me feel this tiny little cunt milk me.”

The coil inside you was tightening, pulling tight and making you gasp and scream at the oncoming rush.  Jin’s pounding was relentless, making your entire body shake with the anticipation.  

Your hand dipped to circle at your clit, the ultimate piece to your end. 

The coil snapped, and your cunt pulsated wildly around his cock, vice-grip tight.  It felt as if you had been catapulted off into space, vision blurring and all sound indiscernible from the blood rushing in your ears.

Jin’s climax quickly overtook him at the feeling of your delicious heat gripping at his cock.  With just a few strokes inside you, his cock pulsed hot stripes of cum within you and painted your channel.  Something primal in Seokjin loved that he was within you now, a piece of him deposited inside. 

He allowed a few moments to pass to catch his breath, before slowly easing his spent cock from your dripping walls.  He groaned as he watched a bit of his seed drip out, and he was careful to collect it on his fingers.

“Come here,” he whispered as he pressed his chest to your back and lifted you upright, sitting on your knees.  He presented his fingers to your lips, dripping with your combined slick, and wrapped his free arm around your stomach.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and allowed the man to swirl his cum-coated digits in your mouth. It made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the taste of you and the man you’ve only dreamt about for years now on your tongue.

A crack of thunder shook you from your silent reverie, and Jin removed his fingers from his mouth before wrapping both arms around you and tugging you down to lie face to face on the mused sleeping bags.

“Now, aren’t you glad we did this?” He asked with a chuckle and a kiss to your nose.

You wrinkled your brow and smiled coyly.

“I would have enjoyed it more if you hadn’t gotten us lost.”

Jin pouted and huffed.

“I didn’t get us lost,” he sniffed with indignation. “The map was wrong.”

[ffxvficrec]

IgNoct White Day Gift Exchange Round Up 1

You can also check out the collection here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ignoctwhiteday2022

We’ve listed additional pairings, archive warnings, and ratings, but please remember to mind the tags!

Let's Learn a Little About Each Other by Megane

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

General Rating

One day, while in the elemancy labs, Prompto and Noctis discovered an odd side effect when one of the spellbombs backfired. Instead of panicking (okay, maybe while slightly panicking), Prompto took Noctis to the one person who could fix things: Ignis. To Noctis' surprise, being small helped him see a side of Ignis he never noticed before.

Mnemosyne by The_Glacian

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Teen Rating 

Noctis drops by Ignis’s dorm to ask him something, but food gets in the way.

Unspoken and Unseen by TinyLlama

No Archive Warnings Apply

Explicit Rating

Sometimes, Ignis gets quiet, lost in memories and things long past. Noctis never really knows what to say during those times, but he always knows how to pull Ignis out of the darkness.

Stamina Recovery by Megane

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Teen Rating

Noctis is... stressed. He doesn't say as much because he doesn't want other people to worry. Thankfully, Ignis notices anyway and does his part to help alleviate things. It wasn't just because he was a trusted figure of Lucis, fated and dutybound to help the young prince—but because he wanted to help his friend. The one he sincerely loved.

We've Earned Our Happy Ending by LadyKF

No Archive Warnings Apply

Teen Rating

After all they had gone through, they deserved a second chance.

I Shine Only with the Light You Gave Me by DistractedDream

No Archive Warnings Apply

Explicit Rating

The thread of magic binds Ignis to Noctis, a thread that follows them through the events of their lives.

And now, having reached the age of majority, Ignis had presented himself to be consecrated to his prince and for Noctis to bestow his magic to him.

Cool fingers curled around his own, grounding him, lest the influx of magic sweep him away. Blue eyes met his own, allowing him to focus on his prince and drift with the magic rather than fight against it. Ignis inhaled deeply and steadied himself, his warmer fingers gripping Noctis’ for another moment and then releasing his hands. Their physical connection was no longer necessary.

His prince’s magic had woven itself into Ignis’ very being, never to let go.

A moment for themselves by marukusanagi

No Archive Warnings Apply

Teen Rating

In the Darkness by kikowithcatears

No Archive Warnings Apply

Teen Rating

It happened so fast Noctis barely had time to react. Fangs, too slow reflexes, and then he was slammed to the ground. There was a loud scream, his own, and everything went fuzzy. He heard footsteps closing in on him and suddenly Ignis was by his side in seconds, whispering to him, his emerald eyes scanning his body for injuries. Noct could sense his consciousness slipping. The world around him was fading fast and he could feel Ignis’ arms around him, lifting him up, and carrying him away.

He loved Specs but he was always too scared to tell him. He hoped it wasn't too late...

and the crown it weighs heavy; by queenhomeslice

No Archive Warnings Apply

Explicit Rating

Noct's plate is overflowing since the dawn came back; but Ignis has never left his side.

Stargazing Conversations by nychus

No Archive Warnings Apply

General Rating

As always, Ignis is working too hard and Noctis thinks he should take a break. Some post-Dawn stargazing seems just the thing to do that.

Mr Sandman Bring Me a Dream by Knight of Flames (beetroot_of_doubt)

No Archive Warnings Apply

Mature Rating

Unknowingly moving into a “haunted” apartment, Ignis finds his life entirely upended by his unexpected housemate. But to find a way to help Noctis break his curse and potentially leave forever, Ignis has to accept and be willing to act upon the feelings he develops as they grow closer.

Exploring the Forbidden by kickcows

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Explicit Rating

Ignis ventures into a casual relationship with Noctis, and finds that it’s difficult to keep it casual.

[dashedwithromance]

Secret Moments In A Crowded Room - Princewitch

okay so DISCLAIMER im scared to post this because we’ve never really seen romantic wrath before so idk if people might think this is OOC but i wanted princewitch fluff desperately and cant wait til october. inspired by the teaser quote she released yesterday and ‘dress’ by taylor swift

-

The ball raged on around her, dancers swirling around impossibly fast, flashes of fabric catching the light of the serpent scones. On and on, all without her. Her husband sat to her right on his larger throne, staring into nothing. They had exchanged all of five words that evening.

She did not blame her husband for his coldness, not truly. If their positions were switched, and she had been forced to marry a random demon while still loving and grieving her murdered spouse, she doubted whether she would even manage civility. Pride continued his business, barely taking notice of his young wife, and she was glad, of that, at least. If he’d wanted her... a shudder snaked down her spine, curling in her gut. Her mind still echoed with the unnatural violation of Lust’s magic, and the thought of another demon prince perusing her like that was foul. There was only one prince she wanted, and his sin was wrath.

Dancing in Hell was nothing like she’d seen on the streets of Palermo. Nothing like the carefree dancing of Vittoria, so full of light and life and love that nothing seemed to touch her. Here, movements entwined with danger, every dance a flirtation with living death. People danced with weapons, exchanging daggers and rondels and rapiers like secret lovers. Jewelled garrottes hung around every neck, poisonous pearls glittering in various ornate hairstyles. An unholy masquerade indeed.

Her own mask was a fine decoration of gold and jewels. Metallic serpents entwined across the mosaic-like surface, darker cracks embedded across it. The mask had arrived one evening at her rooms, wrapped in luscious velvet. No letter accompanied it, the only sign of the sender being a golden snake that slithered up her arm before dissolving into sparks. The decoration matched her dress, a similar mosaic of black silk, lace, and golden serpents. Truly befitting a queen.

Fury burned through her as she watched the revellers pass her by. They danced without a care, members of the seven houses intermingling freely. She wanted to scream and shatter the very throne she sat on. How dare they dance as if mere months ago, one of their own had not been taking the hearts of witches? As if she did not sit on a dead witch’s throne? A witch who still had not found justice, who’s body had been ripped to shreds in the cruellest way imaginable?

“Careful, little queen.” Pride’s voice rumbled in her ear. He still did not look at her, but leaned closer to whisper, “Lest the people learn your ungrateful thoughts.”

Closing her eyes to avoid murdering the demon she’d married, she took a deep breath. The air smelt like fire and spirits and the sweat of colliding bodies. Suddenly, the sight of it all disgusted her. The dancing, the drinking, the living, all of it. Selfish, she knew – others were allowed to live despite Vittoria being denied the very same. But she couldn’t help it. She longed for nothing more than her sister to live, even if it meant sacrificing her life to the demon beside her. There was nothing to be done, however. Her sister was lost forever.

The night dwindled on, interrupted by the occasional violent thought towards her situation. Though, as contrary as it sounded, not all was dark about her time in Hell. She had one bright spot, one flame in the dark. Something she kept locked against her chest for fear of discovery.

Casting her eye across the room, she caught the gaze of the hidden secret. Prince Wrath leaned against the wall from across the room, his eyes flickering as they locked with hers. He was dressed in a sinfully beautiful suit, a pattern of golden serpents slithering up the fabric from the floor. The snakes seemed alive in the firelight. Perhaps they were. A smug sense of satisfaction ebbed through her when she realised they matched. No one else would notice – serpents weren’t exactly an uncommon motif in Hell – but they knew, and it was comfort enough. With a movement, so small she nearly missed it, he tilted his head towards the exit.

A thrill raced through her, paired with genuine, loving excitement. They had not been alone in much too long.

Things had not always been so relaxed between her and the prince of Wrath. Her first few weeks in Hell had been spent furiously glaring in his direction. He’d given her the ultimate cold shoulder until she’d nearly burned from it. She’d been full of fury at his leaving her – at the humiliation she felt from having the human audacity to trust a demon. One day, when they crossed each other in a hallway heading to court, her temper had bubbled to boiling.

She remembered yanking him into a nearby room – he let her, she realised now – and yelled at him for the cruelty of leaving her alone. Of giving her hope and wrenching it away, like a child suddenly filled with jealously over a shared toy.

The sheer incredulity on his face was the first indication she was mistaken. He laughed, a sardonic sound coated in disbelief.

“I left you?” His voice was low. The walls around them seemed to thrum in response to his deadly power.

“I left you?” He repeated, “I gave you all the tools to summon me, witch, and you refused. Too good for my help, perhaps.  I have no more responsibilities to you. Our deal is done.”

Wrath turned to leave, but by some miracle, she managed to dart in front of him. Her body was pressed against the door, the cold stone mixing with the heat she felt roaring off him. Emilia should’ve been afraid, should’ve been trembling in her gifted boots at the sight of him, but she wasn’t. Why, she couldn’t quite tell.

His gaze burned into hers, but her own was just as powerful.

“I tried everything to summon you after what Envy did, and you didn’t come.” She hissed. The wrath of a prince was one thing, but hell hath no fury like a witch scorned. “You left me. I was foolish enough to believe you would ca- that you would come for me once, but I will not be fooled twice.”

The look he gave her was indiscernible. Equal parts rage mixed with... something lighter. If anyone else looked at her like that, she would’ve described it as hopeful. But demons did not hope, no more than they loved.

He was scanning her face with the focus of a battle-hardened warrior. Whatever it was he found made him take a step back.

“What did you do wrong?” He muttered, almost to himself.

“I did nothing wrong,” She couldn’t help but fire back, “I did everything correctly – even used the ring you left for me in the drawer.”

At that, he stilled. Stilled and stopped breathing entirely.

Then, as if talking to someone who’d sustained a head injury, he said, “I didn’t leave you a ring. I left you my house seal, solid gold, of course, but no ring.” He went on to describe where he’d left it – the top drawer beside her bed – but she already knew.

The conclusion settled in her stomach like a stone. Another feeling, one she didn’t let herself scrutinise, unfurled within her.

“Someone didn’t want me to summon you.”

“Close. Someone wanted you to think I wouldn’t come.”

A question hung in the air, so loud neither could bring themselves to give it voice.

Would you have come, Prince Wrath? Would you have come to my aid when I needed you most? When I needed to know you were alright?

Keeping those treacherous thoughts under lock and key, she focused on another facet of the curious mystery.

“Who would it benefit? And who would’ve known what to switch – the house was warded, was it not?”

Silence from her princely counterpart.  

“Would the wards collapse with your ‘death’?”

The look on his face told her all she needed to know. Someone had stolen into the house and replaced the seal with a ring to deliberately throw off their efforts. Which meant-

He hadn’t abandoned her at all. Given her the cold shoulder, yes, when he believed she’d forgotten all about him.

What a hellish mess this all was.

From that moment on, the demon and the witch had become begrudging allies once more. Wrath had been furious one of his brothers would dare interfere with his affairs, and she needed an ally, desperately. While it rubbed against her pride to accept help, she knew it would’ve been foolish to refuse. She would be a vengeful queen, but even queens needed council.

Their alliance had turned to friendship, then burst into royal flames as they look the leap to lovers. In the candlelight of a stolen moment, Wrath had held her with more care than she’d known possible. Still Wrath, still echoing that immense power of his, but softer, somehow. Not gentle, not truly, but tender. It was not love, but it was fire and anger and care all pieced together in a ball of desire.  

Which led her to that moment, as she stole away from her husband’s masquerade ball. She had stayed long enough, and the party celebrated nothing of importance. Rather a show of unity between her and Pride, a display of wealth and power.

As she left the throne room she realised she had no idea where her prince had gone. Back to his rooms? No, they avoided meeting there. Being caught together in casual rooms could be explained away as strategic briefings, but being caught in the bedroom of her husband’s brother... did not leave for much escape room.

Just as she was about to curse his name, a snake slithered around her ankle, causing her to start. Was that Wrath’s laugh, she heard? Looking to her feet, the snake stared back up at her, its golden eyes winking in the candlelight of the hallway.

Of course. Wrath and his dramatics.  

The snake made its way down the hallway, keeping close to the wall to be inconspicuous. It led her to an offshoot of the main hallway, then came to a halt at the final door. The serpent dissolved into golden sparks as they reached their destination. She knocked quietly before letting herself in.

Wrath lay stretched out across a dark velvet lounge, watching her entrance. His mask dangled lazily from his fingers, the ribbon used to tie it brushing across the floor. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, a toned chest peeking out from the fabric.

Deadly, dangerously beautiful.

And hers.

“You look exquisite,” He strode across the room before taking her in his arms. His hands quickly untied her mask before tossing it to the floor with haste. He took in her form for a moment, then tilted his face down to capture her lips with his own.

No matter how many moments they stole, it was never enough.

His kiss was liquid fire igniting the flame of her desire. One hand rested against her back, with the other cupping her face. She gasped against his mouth, revelling in how desperately hard his body felt against hers. Greedy hands slipped up his chest to unbutton the rest of his shirt. Pulling the material away, Emilia broke the kiss for a single second to gaze at her lover.

Smooth, tanned skin met her eyes, followed by a swift appreciation of the hard strength that lay beneath his trousers. He laughed as he caught her gaze, knowing exactly what she was admiring.

He kissed her again, this time grabbing the backs of her thighs and lifting her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist. The taste of him- Taste was her speciality, but there were no words to describe how perfectly Wrath kissed her.

After too long and never long enough, the lovers parted for breath. He still held her against his chest. In this position, she was the perfect height to rest her head in the crook of his neck. Their breathing echoed through the room in perfect harmony.

She could feel every rise and fall of his powerful, tattooed chest. Such lethal power contained within his body, yet he held her with all the tenderness the world could offer.

“You know,” He mused, “We never got to dance.”

“Are you asking?” A sly smile in his direction.

“Yes. Witch, will you dance with me.” He said witch the way men said love. She looked down at him, grinning.

“No. I can’t dance.”

He laughed. Such a bright sound for one bathed in darkness.

“Liar.”

“Fine. I don’t dance, because I’m awful at it.”

A teasing hand ran down her back.

“I’ll teach you.” At her raised brows, he continued with, “A queen must use every skill in her arsenal.”

Lowering her to the ground, he held out his hands for her to grasp.

“Place your right hand in mine, and left against my shoulder.” Even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel the heat roaring off him. When she did as he instructed, he pulled their bodies together until not even an inch separated them. Emilia was fairly certain this wasn’t part of the dance, but she wasn’t going to interrupt. She quite liked this position, pressed against the prince of Wrath, his breath rustling her hair. His hand settled against her spine.

“This next bit is the most important, do you hear? It is crucial even that beginners like yourself get this right.” He teased, and she scowled back at him, though they both knew it was merely in jest.

“Tilt your chin up so you can gaze adoringly into my eyes.” He grinned down her scowl. “I want you to focus on how handsome I am, how talented, and forget everything else. Except how much you want to kiss me.”

She couldn’t help herself, she laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Perhaps.” His voice turned low and seductive as his hand slid down her spine, drawing her a little closer. “But you’re waltzing like a goddess now.” As he spoke, they started to move. Slowly, he stepped back and followed. To the side, and she followed again. On and on, their little box pattern continued, until Wrath picked up the paced and spun her around.

A gasp left her lips at the movement, but before she could overthink and stumble, he caught her once more with a smile.

“Who are you, and what have you done with the moodiest prince of Hell?”

He shook his head at her words, huffing a laugh as he did. She felt the truth bloom in his chest, he didn’t have to say it. These borrowed moments, these secret trysts... it was happiness, rare as it was, that fluttered between them. They both knew it couldn’t last, but for now, it was real. In that moment, it was all that mattered.

“Teasing witch,” He murmured, and kissed her. Kissed her as if they were not members of two rival houses, as if she was not an unwilling wife to his bastardly brother, as if there were not a chasm of reasons to keep them apart. Tomorrow would bring hellfire, and perhaps regret, but tonight was theirs.

They kissed until night dwindled away into day, and their secret was no longer safe. With the promise of “soon” and an unspoken “I miss you”, Wrath kissed her once more before exiting her side.

The queen of Hell picked up her mask from where it had been tossed across the floor, and stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath. The moment had passed, and she was no longer just Emilia, a powerhouse in her own right, and friend and lover of Wrath’s.

She was the Wicked Kingdom’s vengeful queen, and she would find her happiness once more, or burn the world trying.

-

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[the-sympathetic-villain]

Lullaby of Woe

AO3

Angst Prompt - "Of all the times to tell me, why now?" - Any pairing From @crazydemigod666 on Tumblr

@crazydemigod666 Psst you sent this ask to my main but I don’t really post my writing there, so I’m posting it here. Hope you don’t mind ;) Also, though very different in tone, this actually reminded me of your own Jolly Sailor Bold as I was writing it in a lot of ways lol so I hope you enjoy!

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Description: Feeling unwanted, Patton climbs up to the deck of their ship to get some fresh air when the voice of a siren comes calling.

Also, there's a song in this one. I modified the lyrics, but the song is "Lullaby of Woe" - Ashley Serena and you can listen to it here if you'd like.

Word Count: 2104

Pairings: Logicality

Characters: Patton, Logan

Warnings: Major Character Death (Ambiguous, honestly its entirely up to how you interpret it), Angst with an ambiguous ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of neglect, Mentions of cheating, Past toxic relationship, Mentions of food insecurity, Touch starvation, Hypnosis-like trance, Brief Suicidal ideation, Crying, (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

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    Patton had a problem.

    The crew hadn't been able to look him in the eye for over a fortnight, even though he could feel the pity in his stares as he milled about the deck without purpose. At any other point in his life, he would have been deeply ashamed, but he was nearly too tired to care now. The captain had notified him that his rations had been cut. He'd been told it was a temporary measure, but Patton knew better. The captain was starving him off the ship.

    The wind nipped at his arms as Patton nimbly topped the ladder to the upper deck. Moonlight pooled on the polished wood, lighting his way as he strode through the darkness. He moved confidently, though he felt himself nearly stumbling and losing his footing with the sharp rocking of the ship. The weakness was getting to him. He knew he shouldn’t be up in the open air as the boat rocked in the wind. One swift wind could blow him overboard and he'd be gone forever, but he couldn’t bear another minute of listening to the crew's whispers.

    His heart was broken enough already. He'd thought the captain loved him. When they met, Patton’s body and soul had felt like fire. In a flurry of passion, Patton had dropped his comfortable life to follow the man he'd loved across the sea and it had been the thrilling journey of his life. Flowing from adventure to adventure, the pure excitement and adrenaline had lit up his world and blinded him to the fire that had begun to eat him up inside.

    Only now, as Patton staggered to the bow of ship, did he realize how much he'd withered away to make way for the man who claimer to love him. Mere embers of the previous flame remained in Patton’s heart as the captain drifted into the arms of new lovers, his loyalty already fickle and fading before Patton was even gone.

    Patton sucked in a sob as he lurched forward, nearly tumbling over the ship's railing as a sudden wave jarred the ship. His white knuckles gripped the wood on instinct as he sunk to his knees. A soundless cry escaped him as he collapsed to the floor and tears flowed freely down his face in silent grief.

    The pain in his chest was nearly unbearable as Patton lost himself staring into the black water of the sea below, mesmerized by the swirling vortexes as he desperately pushed away darker thoughts. He had no idea how long he sat there, silently sobbing as the moon moved across the sky, but it seemed like only moments before an unnerving melody floated through the air.

    Fishes asleep among the weeds,

    Patton’s head shot up at the sound the unfamiliar voice echoing eerily across the open deck. His knees curled to his chest as his eyes darted through the darkness, searching for the source of the voice.

    Waves all a swaying in the breeze,

    “Who’s there?”

    Patton shivered as he raised his head to get a better view of the deck below. Unable to spot anyone, he cautiously reached up to the railing to pull himself upright and listen to the voice continue.

    But one soul lies anxious, wide awake,

    Fearing no manner of ghouls nor wraiths.

    Patton jumped, spinning on his toes as the last line finished directly behind his ear. His shoulders spun clumsily as he stumbled away from the bow of the ship, landing on the ground with a thud as he turned to stare at the beast balancing on the bowsprit of the ship.

    The creature stood on two feet and Patton could nearly have mistaken him for a man a man, if not for the pallid color of his skin and haunting blue glow of his eyes. The specter glided forward with an unearthly grace, balancing on the narrow bow of the ship as it rocked chaotically in the wind.

    “Do not scream.” The man purred as he dropped silently on the deck. “Lest you condemn the rest of your friends to share your fate.”

    A grimace curled on Patton’s lips at the statement and he resigned himself to quietly edging closer the railing behind him.

    “Oh, not friends then.”

    The beast cooed under his breath as he leaned forward to loom over Patton.  Adrenaline rushed through his veins as the creature slowly kneeled in front of him and raised a hand to his face. Patton flinched as cold fingers brushed along his jaw and guided his chin up until he was staring into the ice-cold eyes of the man above him.

    “Relax.”

    Patton felt the tension in his body disappear as the dulcet tones of the man's voice lulled him into complacency. His vision blurred as he tried to stay focused on the man’s face, but as he was pulled to his feet, only one thought rang out in his mind.

    He's…pretty.

    The beast's calming voice continued to fill the air with a lilting melody as he smiled crowded Patton against the railing.

    Don’t dare let him tremble,

    For the witcher, heartless and cold,

    Paid in coin of gold,

    He comes and goes and he'll leave not behind,

    Subtle chills tingled across Patton’s skin at the man's power. He knew fear should be gripping his heart, but he couldn’t help but his starstruck smile as the man lips curled into a sharp-toothed grin.

    but heartache and woe,

    Deep, deep woe.

    Patton’s breath caught in his throat as his waist caught the railing. His balance wavered as the momentum nearly sent him tumbling into the dark water below, but an iron grip caught his collar.

    Deep, deep woe.

    The man’s deep voice resonated against Patton’s chest and he finished its last note, drawing Patton’s attention back to his mesmerizing eyes.

    “Are you afraid?”

    Patton sucked on his lip as he stared into the icy look of the man’s eyes. His heart slowed as the air shifted blinked his shock up at the man in front of him.

    “Please, I'll do anythi—”

    “Young one, be at peace. Fearing me is a waste of your energy.”

    A raspy breath escaped Patton’s parted lips as the beast's hand passed over his jaw to curl around the back of his neck. Instinctively, he started to flinch away, but the monster caught him.

    “Why do you allow yourself to wither, human?”

    Patton sucked on his lip as his skin tingled like wildfire from the man’s icy touch. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but it'd been a long time since he'd been touched with such gentleness. The sense of danger radiating off the man in front of him should have made him quiver with fear, but instead he felt himself leaning into the unfamiliar comfort with a quiet sob.

    “Hush now. You no longer need to suffer.”

    Scaled fingers slipped through Patton’s hair as the pale beast comforted him. The walls which he’d built around his heart came crashing down and his feelings escaped him in a subdued mourning.

    “That’s all you really wanted. Isn’t it? To be needed?”

    Patton’s grip tightened on the man's flowing silk shirt as a soft whisper escaped him. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

    “I've been watching you since your ship left the port nearly a full moon ago. The effort you extend to for the benefit of the others aboard this vessel is nothing less than commendable.” The beast’s breath passed through Patton’s hair like a soft wind as his fingertips brushed Patton’s cheek. “You are not simply a weight to the man who scorns your love.”

    The man’s soothing voice resonated from his chest as Patton timidly tipped his head up to him.

    “W-who are you?”

    “My name is of no consequence,” The man’s whispered, though he seemed to immediately correct himself as he noted Patton’s disappointment. “Though you may call me Logan, if your heart desires.”

    “Logan—” Patton breathed as he lifted his head. “—you've been watching me?”

    “With deep interest, my dearest. You are too delectable to be wasted on someone who does not appreciate you.” Logan’s sharp-toothed grin grew wider as his thumb brushed Patton’s cheek. “Your scent is absolutely dizzying.”

    “T-that can't be true.”

    “Oh?” The siren's pale fingers trailed down Patton’s jaw, letting out a melodic chuckle as Patton sighed at the touch. “And why is that, my lovely?”

    Patton’s face twisted in disgust and he started to pull away. “I'm—I'm not—”

    Logan’s hands caught Patton’s waist, eliciting a gasp as he effortlessly lifted Patton and placed him on the railing of the rocking ship. He moved forward, standing between  Patton’s legs as his piercing, blue eyes locked onto Patton.

    “Not what, darling?”

    “N-not special.” Patton whispered quietly, suddenly entranced by the mesmerizing glimmer in Logan’s eyes.

    “It truly is a crime that any man was able to convince you of that.”

    Patton blinked in disbelief as the siren curled a finger under his chin, lifting his gaze. “What?”

    “Your soul leaves a sweet scent in the air that only a fool would neglect to savor.” Logan whispered, sending pleasant chills down Patton’s spine as his other hand slipped around Patton’s waist. “My dearest, you are a gift to this world that has kept my eye for thrice the time it's taken for the dark moon to turn bright in the sky.”

    “If—If you've been watching me—” Patton started after a moment of silence, shaking as he reached up to grip Logan’s wrist. “Then, of all times to tell me, why now?”

    The siren was silent as his piercing eyes bore into Patton, sending a heated wave of adrenaline through him as another wave crashed against the side of the ship. Logan’s grip tightened on Patton’s waist as sea's mist filled the air.

    “I think you know why I have approached you.”

    “Y-you're a siren.” Patton whispered as he nervously clung to the railing.

    “Come away with me, darling.”

    “They—” Patton swallowed the lump in his throat as he turned his head away from the dangerous look in Logan’s eyes. “The sailors say that those who are taken away by sirens are never heard from again.”

    Logan remained quiet for a moment before raising a hand to wipe the tears from Patton’s cheek. “You will not be missed by the men on this ship.”

    Patton sucked in a breath as though he'd been struck in the stomach. “I—I know, but—”

    “Hush, now. Do not be afraid.” Logan whispered as tears brimmed in Patton’s eyes. “Do you have loved ones on the land?”

    “No,” Patton breathed as an emptiness filled his chest. “I am alone.”

    “Then what do you live for, dearest?”

    Patton started to shake as tears streamed down his face. “I—I don’t know anymore.”

    “Then tell me, my love.” Logan whispered as he curled a finger around Patton’s chin to lift his head up. “What risk is there in leaving with me?”

    “I'm not ready to die."

    Logan's sharp teeth glistened in the moonlight as he leaned into Patton’s ear. “Who said anything about dying?”

    Patton blinked, still in disbelief as he sputtered out a response. “Are you going to hurt me?”

    “Will you take the risk to find out?”

    Patton sucked in a breath as he stared into Logan’s blue eyes. His heart pounded in his chest as he balanced on the railing of the ship, teetering above the dark waters above.

    “O-okay.”

    Logan leaned in closer with a knowing grin. “You have to tell me what you want, love.”

    “Take me away, p-please.”

    Logan's unearthly grin widened as Patton curled into his chest. “As you wish, darling.”

    A hum started deep in Logan's chest, soothing Patton’s uneven breathing as he continued his song.

      The waves are silent for the night,

      All matter turned in as daylight dies,

      But one soul lies anxious wide awake,

      My dear darling Patton, shut your eyes,

      Lie still, lie silent, utter no cries.

    The world around Patton seemed became blurry as the siren’s song lulled him into a deep trance. His skin tingled with a pleasant vibration as the soft sound of Logan’s voice filled his ears. Deep in a stupor, he barely noticed as they dropped into the dark waters below. The moonlight faded as they disappeared beneath the surface, but Logan’s voice still echoed beautifully in his mind.

    Beware of the man who covets your soul,

    He'll chop you and slice you,

    Cut and he'll dice you,

    Eat you up whole,

    Eat you whole,

    All while he sings to you,

    he lullaby of deep, deep woe.

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General Taglist:

@justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck @shadowyplaidpurseegg

[gophergal]

So this is the third oneshot I've finished this week (second I've posted here. The other that isn't posted here is already up on Ao3.) Don't expect this often, I just wanted to get some WIPs off my plate and I still have many to finish. This is just a short, sweet ficlet, but may have a companion or sequel later on. Who fucking knows. This is a sort of a collection of short moments with the two of them. No real plot, just fluff.

Home On The Range

Word Count: 2,000+ | Rating: T+ | Michael Myers x Jason Voorhees (Western AU) | M/M

Warnings: Implied Murder, Description of Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Failed Hanging Mention, Rushed Ending, Fluff

Samhain plodded along wearily, his rider slumped forward in the saddle as he made his way toward safety. The shootout in town, when the Shape had been driven from its prey, had resulted in Michael being shot thrice, twice in the shoulder, once center mass. He'd fled in a haze of pain and blood loss, mounted his horse, and eventually passed out.

And so that led Samhain to his current situation, following instinct to get he and his master somewhere safe, preferably somewhere with abundant food and water. The stallion stopped for a moment, ears perking up as he caught the sound of whistling coming from the valley below. A tall man, his head covered in a feed sack, was the source. The horse tentatively descended from the hilltop towards the strange man, focused on his joyful whistling.

Hearing the careful clop of hooves behind him, the large man turned, ready to strike with the ax in his hands, which he quickly lowered. Samhain snorted weakly where he stood, far away enough that the man couldn't grab him. Instead, the bag-headed man reached into a pocket on his tattered jacket, and pulled out a half eaten stick of peppermint, holding it out to the stallion who took it, eating greedily. His rough hand pet the horse's black, velvety nose and he hummed reassuringly. The horse's rider did not move, even as the tall man took the reins from his hands and led the horse away from the area.

Trees became more dense as they walked until they came upon a small cabin. Samhain's head perked up as his rider was removed from his back, and he let out a piercing whinny. The man hummed again, reassuring the distressed animal, who slowly returned to a relaxed state. Michael was taken from the horse's back, draped limply in the big man's arms like a doll. He groaned, still unconscious, but alive. After taking the smaller man into the tiny log cabin, the large man returned and removed the tack from the black stallion, running his hand along the sweaty, matted coat that had been beneath, then led the horse to a small stream by the halter, leaving him there to graze and drink the fresh cool water that flowed so freely.

Back in the cabin, Jason studied the man he'd sat on his bed, scratching his beard through the rough burlap of his hood. The dark haired man was covered with a layer of cold sweat, his face twisted in pain, even while asleep. Grabbing a basin of clean water and a rag, Jason set to work undressing the man's torso, looking at the bullet wounds that littered his flesh, nestled alongside other pale scars, some fresher than others. While dabbing the blood crusted injuries, he examined them, determining that the shoulders had been entered and exited cleanly. They would only need liquor poured on them to fight infection. The shot in the abdomen, however, looked more serious, and had no exit wound, all but guaranteeing that the offending lead was lodged within. Jason debated whether he should remove the bullet while the man was unconscious or not, deciding to finish dressing the other two wounds beforehand.

When the alcohol was administered, the man roused with a shout of pain, startling Jason, who in turn fell backward. The man looked around in panic, wearily reaching for his gun, which was no longer on his hip. There was a fire in his eyes, which Jason could now see were mismatched, one black as the horse he rode in on and the other milky white. Rolling off the bed, the man struggled to get to his feet, groaning quietly in agony. Jason approached slowly, as one would a wild animal, which earned him a glare. Disregarding this, he grabbed the man's good arm, careful to help him get seated on the mattress. He did not fight back, but kept scowling weakly, allowing his saviour to do as he pleased. With little fuss, his wounds were bandaged, the pressure of it relieving some of the aching.

Michael fell back onto the cushion, flinching in pain that radiated from his midsection. He inhaled sharply, looking over at the bag headed man who gestured to the leaking wound. He mimed pulling something out, which Michael nodded in response to. Steeling himself in preparation of the pain and biting down on the rolled cloth which was put in his mouth. His eyes screwed shut at the first penetration of the hole, burning pain blinding all his senses as the man's fingers searched for the bullet. It seemed to last forever, and Michael threatened to black out.

His stomach turned as the white hot agony coursed through him, reaching every point on his body. Finally, the man extracted his fingers, and he relaxed slightly, breathing heavily around the fabric gripped tightly in his mouth. When he looked up, the man held the bullet in his bloodied hand. Which he set down beside the basin of water. The pain had subsided enough that Michael could feel the touch of water on his abdomen as the man cleaned his wound again, and finally wrapped it.

“Michael,” he rasped, exhaling sharply and extending a hand to the other man, who said nothing in reply, instead holding his hand after shaking it, and drawing wobbly letters into his palm with a finger. He did this twice, then again, writing on his palm until Michael picked it up: J-A-S-O-N. Michael nodded in recognition, leaning back into the mattress and shutting his eyes. He let out a shaky breath, recalling what had happened in the past week. Then shoving it aside. Yet again, the Shape had led him into danger, just as it always had in search of feeding its insatiable hunger.

A few days passed with Michael resting up and Jason keeping his wounds clean. The two would sit in each other's presence, drinking in the peace. Samhain was well, happy to munch on the green grass of the field nearby. It was nice, but Michael was growing restless. His wounds were beginning to close and hurt far less than they had at first. As soon as he was well enough to ride out again, he'd go after that damned Marshall's head. The thought was delightful and served as his sole motivator for remaining at the cabin. So he told himself, that is.

The other big reason was standing out in the clearing around the back, the muscles of his arms shifting as he chopped firewood. Jason had the strength and stature of no one Michael had ever seen. Even the big bastards he'd get in fights with while swacked on whiskey were puny in comparison, though Jason didn't seem the type to fight drunkards in run down dead-fall saloons. No, he seemed like a good enough man that Michael felt no worry around him. Even if he hadn't seen the man's face, which Michael figured was his right to hide anyway, he could tell in his gut that Jason could be trusted. Michael stirred the pot of stew on the stove as he tried to figure out his plan for when he'd head out.

The more he thought about it, he began to realize that he had no idea where to start looking for Marshall Loomis. In theory, he could just go to the nearest town and start shit, then wait while word spread of his whereabouts, but that just wasn't the way Michael liked to do things. He'd much rather be the hunter, waiting in the shadows for his prey.

Jason walked in, skin still glistening from his hard work outside. It should be time for supper soon, he figured. After all, the sun was hanging low in the sky, ready to set within a couple hours. Jason stopped in the doorway, watching as Michael stood at the stove. Something was nice about watching the smaller man (and that's smaller, mind you, not small. Michael was a large fellow in his own right) tend to their supper.

It was very thoughtful of him, despite how Jason tried to keep him off his feet, lest his wounds reopen. There was also something about the scene that caused warmth to bloom in his chest. He pushed it down. Michael would leave at some point. Jason would be on his own again. He didn't even know why he'd helped the younger man.

A month later, December brought cold, dry weather and Michael sitting in front of the fireplace with Jason, whittling away at a chunk of wood. As he whittled, he made excuses for why he should stay now that his wounds had fully healed, now just marks on his skin where the skin dipped low. He owed it to Jason to repay him for all he'd done in nursing him back to health. Samhain needed time to recuperate. Things to justify his extended stay.

With a glance to his side, he stopped carving for a moment, taking in the picture of Jason, his burlap hood nowhere to be seen. His red hair burned vibrant in the firelight as he mended the hole in a shirt. Michael stopped lying to himself, knowing in his heart that he stayed for his own selfish reasons. Jason was a warm presence. Comforting in a way Michael had never felt.

It was contentment, he supposed it would be called. The closest he'd ever gotten was the come down off an adrenaline high of fighting or the fuzzy, numb stupor he would often find at the bottom of a bottle, but neither of those quite fit the word. It just felt good to be around the red haired man. Michael was good at reading people, a trait that came from many years of playing poker to pay for his needs, but he didn't need any of that to know that Jason felt the same. Michael just couldn't leave him now, he simply had no desire to.

Jason had once showed his face freely to those around him. Back when his mama was alive. He remembers the name calling, the tears Mama wiped away, the accusations after her death, the first bit of darkness when his head covered when he was to be hanged, all of the things that led to his hiding. He'd been nervous when Michael saw his face that first time. Washing his burlap hood in the stream, he'd been suddenly confronted by the brunet. His good eye scanned Jason's face with curiosity. He didn't say anything, just looked. There was no laughter or disgust, just the fire of interest, then of concern when they dropped to the faint ring of scarring around his neck. The two sat there quietly, a silent understanding forming.

That had been within the first couple weeks of Michael's stay. Now, Jason kept the hood off. Only putting it back on when trespassers came to their land, in need of disposal. Michael showed no hatred of that horrible face, but often looked at him, focused as though he were looking at the brightest star in the heavens. Jason allowed himself to hold onto the warmth it brought this time, savoring the way Michael brought him comfort.

Michael rode off to take his vengeance on the Marshall in mid spring. He'd put it off long enough, for as much as he wished to stay with Jason, true peace would not come to him until Marshall Loomis was dead and buried. There was a kiss goodbye, a lingering farewell and promise of return, then suddenly the red haired man was left alone once again. The land was emptier now without Michael. Jason busied himself with protecting their home (for now it was just as much Michael's as it was Jason's before) in the meantime.

It was incredibly lonesome, more than he'd expected. It's not as though Michael left without warning, he'd mentioned he would, and yet Jason was worried. Worried that he'd never see the dark haired man again. Had those silent confessions of adoration been lies? They never were on Jason's part, but Michael's face held no clues to the truth. He supposed Michael would been great at bluffing. It reminded him of something Mama once said: You ought not trust a poker player, Jason, they'll steal everything from you, and they'll make you feel special when it happens. He didn't want to think about that, and held on to the memory of the last time he held the black eyed man.

Days began to blend together before Michael returned on his black stallion. He'd been injured again, but nowhere near as badly. He fell into Jason's arms two months after he'd first left. He was weaker now, a husk of who he'd been. Anger no longer held him together. Jason could tell that he'd ate little and slept less since he'd been gone. His heart was simultaneously broken at the sight of his frail state and filled with his presence. He didn't want to ever let him go again. After a few days rest and many good meals, Michael looked much better physically, but something was different still.

Touching was more common than it had been before. When they sat in front of the fireplace of an evening, Jason would often find Michael reaching out for his own calloused hand, weaving their fingers together and scooting closer. Once, he pushed a curly, red lock of hair behind his ear, the corners of his mouth quirked up in an unpracticed smile. Jason melted at that first smile and every smile after. The weight that had been lifted from Michael's shoulders would never be commented on by either of them. They were simply too wrapped up in the pleasure of one other's presence and comfort to bring up that pain.

There was no pain or unhappiness in their little home that they built, not anymore. Not so long as they had each other to look out for them.

[ladyeliot]

Aftermath

Request: This is a request that @mycosmicparadise​ asked me for a long time ago. Sorry, sweetie.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: After the events in New York, the team reunites to carry out the mission to get Loki's scepter, but things go wrong and your mission changes completely, now you have to go after Ultron, but you find yourself unable to keep your powers under control.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of abuse. 

Word count: 3972

A/N: Avengers Age of Ultron. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader's powers: She is a powerful empath, as she can sense and manipulate other people's emotions. Proficient unarmed combatant.

Hydra, Research Base, Eastern Europe.

You felt like your insides were full of hate and rage, every person you met through the thick forest, the only thing they felt when they saw you was dislike, mixed with the anger of wanting to get rid of you. Your powers worked because you kept your own emotions under control, but it was a constant struggle, as you used to feel inside you the emotions that others possessed and that made your insides filled with every negative emotion.

"Shit!" you heard Tony through the relay you had inserted in the back of your ear.

"Language!" Steve instantly rebutted him.

You held your position through the thick forest of Sokovia, Hydra's base was on top of a mountain, or rather it was the mountain itself, for around it they had built a rather impenetrable base that you wanted to access in order to get the Sceptre that you were unable to take from Loki at the time. Numerous clearly trained soldiers were trying to stop you in your tracks. Jarvis had informed you that the building was protected by an energy shield, which was against you as it was the most advanced technology you had seen in any Hydra base of operations.

"Loki's sceptre must be in there," Thor announced, as you guarded one of those soldiers under your body rendering him completely unconscious. "They couldn't have those defences without it."

You ran across the field trying to close the gap with Natasha, who was a few metres ahead of you, Clint following.

"Okay," you said staring at one of your targets and getting him to lower his gun to tackle him, "so what do we do?"

"Wait a second," Tony interjected. "No one else is going to deal with the fact that Cap just said "language?"

"I know," Steve replied, making your eyes roll at the distraction they were causing in the middle of the mission.

The graze of bullets was almost audible through your body, it seemed to go on forever, you had been going on for hours and all you could manage to do was run into more troops sent by Hydra to hold you in that quadrant of the forest. Natasha was trying to get rid of two guys who had tackled her, you turned to her and stared at one of them but just as you were about to make the mental connection something that you barely noticed made you fall to the ground.

"What the hell?" you exclaimed getting up again and looking around you hoping to find the cause of it.

"We've got an upgrade," Steve informed you.

"Wait, you don't call her 'language'?" Tony complained at the situation. "Okay, I'll tell her. Language!"

At that instant a muffled shout from Clint sounded behind you.

"Clint!" Natasha had effectively freed herself from the two henchmen and you both headed towards Clint, who had been shot from a bunker. "Clint's hurt. Can someone take care of that bunker?"

As if Natasha's words were an order, Hulk appeared out of nowhere to overwhelm the small building and the soldiers inside. You stood up and turned your full attention to your surroundings while Nat continued to perform the necessary treatment to alleviate the blow that your companion had received.

"Clint is in bad shape, he needs to be evacuated," Nat reported over the transmitter, as Thor and the Captain instantly landed next to you. "I can take Barton to the Quinjet," Thor replied and focused his gaze on Steve. "The sooner we leave the better.

"Copy that," Steve replied for both of you, but at that moment he noticed your face.

"Roger that," Steve replied for both of you, but at that moment he noticed your face. "Are you all right?"

You nodded, returning to an introspective position beside Natasha.

On the ride home, silence flooded the Quinjet more than ever, the mission had finally succeeded but it wasn't really in the air, it wasn't felt inside any of you, even though Stark had proposed a victory party.

The following days nothing had gone as planned, the analysis of the sceptre that Stark and Banner had carried out, more than an analysis it was a reconfiguration of a network of neurons that they had found, in order to create an artificial intelligence. Artificial intelligence that they used in Stark's secret 'peacekeeping' programme called Ultron, designed to allow the Iron Legion to operate independently. That brought some trouble, when at the end of the Party he showed up to personally attack you, well rather, the whole of humanity, as Ultron thinks the best way to save Earth is to eradicate humanity, he might be partly right.

"Ultron is gone," Banner's voice echoed within the four walls of the lab, "he has used the internet as an escape route."

"Ultron," you whispered to yourself, as one hand covered your face thoroughly.

"He's been all over. Files, surveillance," Natasha explained. "He knows more about us than we know about each other."

As the conversation continued to escalate, emotional energies radiated through the atmosphere, and you picked up on every one of them. Negativity, gathered together with worry, confusion and concern took over your body, you still felt a resentment from the attack you experienced three days ago in Sokovia, which managed to heighten each of the sensations. You closed your eyes as you hid your face with one hand and the other voices became ominous, frustrating your senses. Natasha was the only person who seemed to notice your situation, stopping the voices with a "guys", but just as they stopped, a small laugh from a completely distracted Tony typing on the computer made you burst.

"You think that's funny?" the hand hiding your face disappeared to give way to hard features and a raised, gruff tone of voice, Tony turned and looked at you a little quizzically, but you could see a hidden smile.

"No," he said indifferently. "It probably isn't, is it? This is terrible, it's so..." again his laughter tackled him, causing you to be completely confused and your frustration to grow. "I know. It's so terrible."

"It's just as terrible that you're taunting all of us right now with your fucking arrogance," you said approaching him.

"No," his tone unlike yours seemed pleasant and friendly, "It really is funny, just like it's funny that you don't understand why we need him," Tony closed the distance with you, positioning the two of you in the middle of the lab, his voice had completely changed it was just as gruff as yours.

"Tony, maybe this isn't the time," Bruce interjected in a melodic tone.

"So, a killer robot was what we needed?" you reproached, lifting your chin to position yourself against his height. "The shield that was supposed to free us from alien threats frees us by wiping out all of humanity, yeah, really brilliant."

"Remember I put a nuke through a wormhole?" he rebuked you, recalling for the umpteenth time that night the event in New York. "Tell me, how did you plan to win that? What was your damned solution to get rid of that damned hostile alien army that came through that wormhole in space?"

"Together," Steve interjected quickly, causing Tony to look away from you and back at Steve.

You made the air rush into your lungs offering you some relaxation, instigating your mind to let positive memories come to you. Your differences with Tony were known, your understanding of his views was limited, a fact that generated the occasional verbal conflict between the two of you, let's just say you couldn't stand each other more than you deserved.

The night was long, mostly because there was hardly any rest after planning what you were going to do to stop Ultron, which led you to South Africa.

"She should stay," Nat's whisper reached your ears. "The mission in Sokovia has left her with  aftermath she has yet to overcome."

"Oh, last night was a aftermath?" Tony from the pilot's seat added to the conversation. "Nice."

"You know I'm here and I can hear you?" you asked without opening your eyes from your seat. "I'm coming down, worry about you guys that..."

"Okay, listen," Tony stood up from the command post. "I may regret saying this but I agree with her. I think you should stay here with Banner. Keep you two company. Get to know each other better. You know."

"Why don't you stay here, Tony, and get to know Banner better?" you opened your eyes and looked at Tony, but thought for a second. "Well, I'd better not, lest you get the bright idea to create Ultron's sister."

"He's an only child," Tony countered your irony.

"The roles are split," you added as a definitive point. "I'll take the girl, you take Ultron."

From a mountain fortress to a ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. You entered its interior, a quite feasible target, when in fact what you all feared lay within. Darkness fell over your pupils, the smell of dampness professed in every corner.

"You're with me, aftermath," reported a voice from behind a suit of armour. "Stay sharp, this guy is made by me."

The long corridors soon took you deep into the heart of the ship, they were as eager to run into you as you were to run into them, so it was only a couple of minutes before you were reunited in a vast maze of iron catwalks.

"Stark is a sickness!" exclaimed that robot called Ultron.

"Ahh, Junior," Tony posed in front of him and his two enhanced companions, "You're gonna break your old man's heart."

From that moment on things happened too fast for a clear description to be made. The corridors seemed to lengthen as you tried to keep that enhanced girl, Wanda, away from the others. She was powerful, trying to play with your mind and you with hers. It was a battle of mental endurance, if you could keep your mind blank and safe from all the negative things she was trying to make you see, you could keep going. It seemed doable, you seemed to have it under control, you had freed yourself from the transmitter that kept you in contact with the others to avoid any external distractions, but none of that was enough when a new enhancement came into play making you lose your balance completely, you felt the emptiness flooding you, as if your body was falling unchecked into the darkness.

A halo of light circled over your eyes making you recognise what was around you, you had escaped, you had fled from that ship thousands of miles in space and time. A figure that you recognised instantly was in front of you, smiling at you, raising her hand to caress your face, it was the figure of your mother, she was laughing, but with each laugh the atmosphere became darker. The main living room of your house appeared before your eyes, but it seemed totally neglected, the furniture was worn out, there was dust and mould in every corner, your mother was prostrate on the floor and a figure without a face was on top of her beating her, you heard the screams of a little girl, they were quite familiar, they were yours. That scene began to repeat itself over and over again, reliving your childhood, you fought to try to change it, but you had no control over it or over your mind at that moment, time after time the pain invaded you and although you tried to stop it, it became impossible again. You had entered a loop, you had lost track of time and space, you couldn't run away from it. Your own mind had become part of it.

Your ears only picked up your screams and those of your mother, you kept your eyes open but your vision was not able to see, you fell to your knees wherever you were in reality and you stayed there, until someone managed to locate you.

"I got her," as a faint whisper drifted into the scene you were living. "Okay. You're safe, I've got you."

As if you were again falling into the void your body rose into the air, and the darkness once again hovered over you, causing all your limbs and your brain to go into a deep, eternal sleep.

Without really knowing where you were, you could hear a faint hissing sound that came more and more strongly to your senses. Light broke through your eyelids, which were struggling against their will to open. Familiarity with the space made you realise where you were. The whistling sound was coming from the air hitting the Quinjet, for all was silent inside. You sat up slowly, the mental pain was suffocating, not only because of what you had seen and what you had been through, but because you could feel the same sensations all around you.

You sat up, covering your face with your hands and hiding it between your legs trying to pull yourself together, but at that moment you felt someone kneel down right in front of you and put a hand on the back of your neck.

"What can I do?" Tony's voice sounded cautious, but there was really little he could do in those few square metres of anguish, so you just shook your head. "Okay, look at me," you shook your head again not wanting to have direct access to any more emotions at the moment, "Look at me. Please."

Your breathing was rapid and your heart kept shrinking, causing a lump in your throat that almost prevented you from breathing. You couldn't extract everything you had inside you, nor could you find the calm you needed to let him go, you were afraid to look at him to interfere with his feelings and manipulate them by offering him yours, you were also afraid of acquiring his negative emotions and adding them to your own. But still you felt his hand go to your chin and he gently lifted it up to catch your face in his gaze.

"In a couple of hours we'll be in a shelter," his face was close, his fingers held firmly on your chin. "Do you think you'll be okay?"

A subtle nod is what you offered in reply, Tony nodded as well and took a seat right next to you after having moved closer to Barton. 

Your breathing was rapid and your heart kept shrinking, causing a lump in your throat that almost prevented you from breathing. You couldn't extract everything you had inside you, nor could you find the calm you needed to let him go, you were afraid to look at him to interfere with his feelings and manipulate them by offering him yours, you were also afraid of acquiring his negative emotions and adding them to your own. But still you felt his hand go to your chin and he gently lifted it up to catch your face in his gaze.

"In a couple of hours we'll be in a shelter," his face was close, his fingers held firmly on your chin. "Do you think you'll be okay?"

A subtle nod is what you offered in reply, Tony nodded as well and took a seat right next to you after having moved closer to Barton. Those two hours seemed endless, you kept your hands pressed to your temple trying to forget what you had seen, but more so what you had felt. Tony, along with Barton were the only ones who had not suffered the effects of Wanda Maximoff's mind control on you on that occasion, it was evident from the physical and mental state of the other teammates.

Tony stayed by your side for the entire 120 minutes, worried and afraid that everything that had happened was his fault, and it was all coming back to you.

"Stop," you whispered trying to get Tony's attention.

"How?" he whispered and bent his face closer to yours, which was resting on your hands.

"Stop flogging yourself, I've had enough of the others," you pleaded a little rudely, unable to control yourself.

"I'm sorry," he placed his palm on your back, but an uncomfortable gesture from your shoulder caused him to remove it a second later. "I'm sorry."

A couple of hours later, the Quinjet took up position on a large greenish esplanade, the greenest thing your eyes had ever seen in your life. In the centre was a small cottage, cosy enough for anyone to see. Tony held you firmly, as it seemed that your body would fall if he let go. You went inside together, a hospitable warmth surrounded each of your limbs causing you to get some peace in you after hours.

Time seemed to have taken its toll on your senses, as you barely understood half of what was being said around you. But everything changed when two children entered, bringing joy and life to the room, it was the most comforting thing you had felt in weeks, the innocence that each of them possessed was like a breath of fresh air to you. You gently removed your arm from Tony's shoulders, murmuring "I'm feeling better," and he returned an "Okay" with a still worried look on his face. Actually Barton's idea of taking you there had been really successful for all of you, except for Thor who left, but for the rest of you it was something you'd never been able to contemplate in your lives, kind of like what it would be like to have a family.

Sunset was near and the view from that wooden porch surrounding the house was charmingly soothing.

"You look good," Tony appeared behind you with his hands in his pockets and perched next to you, leaning on the railing.

"Thank you," you said, looking back up at the grove of trees that loomed before your eyes. "And thanks for earlier."

" For what?" he asked with confusion in his voice.

"When you tried to reassure me on the Quinjet," you said without looking at him. "And... I think it was also you who took me back."

"Yep," Tony put his hand to the back of his neck and turned to you. "The truth is, that process would have been a lot more feasible if you hadn't gotten rid of the transmitter, it would have saved me a lot of time."

"I know," you ducked your face, but a small smile appeared on it.

"Do you want to talk?" Tony's voice seemed somewhat hesitant after stating the question.

"No," you shook your face, letting the last rays of sunlight fall on him. "Do you want to talk?"

"What do you feel?" he answered your question with another question, ignoring it completely. "What do you feel inside when you feel us?"

"I feel what other people are feeling," you explained, looking at him for the first time. "If I concentrate I can feel what you're feeling right now, or what Steve is feeling, or how the Hulk feels when he turns."

"How?"

That conversation you'd had on several occasions in your life, but at no point had you had it with Tony, you hadn't been close at any point, closeness you could find in Natasha or even Steve, but not in Tony, that's why that moment was peculiar, as well as comforting.

"It's easy when my emotions are in control," you turned your body towards him and leaned against the wooden railing. "I just have to look at my target and focus on how he feels, knowing that whatever is inside him I'm going to feel it too," you focused your gaze on Tony's eyes, "for instance, right now you're remorseful about what happened with Ultron, but you also feel misunderstood because no one understands your point of view, you're also melancholy about being in this place, a little envious about discovering the life that Barton has, and..." you paused slightly as you discovered one of his feelings, but you chose to ignore it, as he seemed to be really nervous about the process of analysis he was undergoing, "embarrassed because right now I'm feeling the same way you are.”

You offered him a slight smile, which he himself returned a little nervously at the exposition you had offered him, Tony was a very rigorous person when expressing himself and this had completely thrown him off.

"That..." he put one hand nervously to the back of his neck while the other was hidden in his trouser pocket. "Great, I guess it's nice to know I'm not empty. But well, we'd better keep this between us."

"Of course," for the first time you felt a little satisfied with your task just done, it was nice to see that this person could shed his pride on several occasions.

"Well, I'd better go and help Rogers chop wood," he said, standing up beside you and scratching the bridge of his nose.

" Yes, he certainly looks like he could use your help," you commented wryly as Steve had little difficulty chopping wood in one fell swoop.

"Yeah," he shoved his hands in his pockets and slipped out of the place as quickly as possible.

Within a minute you could feel him perch next to you again, leaning his body on the railing and looking at you.

"That's all you found?" he asked with a frown and gesturing nimbly with his hand, a gesture that denoted nervousness. "I mean, there was nothing else."

"What do you mean?" you frowned as he did, looking completely puzzled, since you already knew what he meant.

"Well..." he scratched the back of his neck again, "Do you usually do this to me? I mean, have you ever gone inside my head before to see how I'm feeling or have you only done it this once? Is it usual?"

"Do you really think I want to know what you keep in your head Tony?" you asked holding back a laugh at his reaction.

"Okay," he gave a long nod biting the inside of his lip. "And there was nothing else you said?"

"Do you want me to try again? Maybe I can find something else," you offered humbly, knowing what he wanted.

"No, it's... all right," his words were accompanied with a step back, putting distance between you and him. "It's all right. I'm... going to go help Cap."

"Okay," you bit your lower lip as you watched him disappear behind you again. behind you again.

You watched as Tony walked over to Steve's pile of firewood and picked up an axe to imitate his movements. You remained in your position, keeping your gaze lost in that grove of trees that made you feel so calm, but it was very easy to catch Tony's gaze watching you from his position. He knew that you had felt it, because perhaps it was one of the emotions that was strongest inside him at that moment, but evidently you didn't want to expose it out loud, and let him know that you had discovered it. Yet there it was, and it was going to take you too long to forget that feeling, because it felt too good to let it go.

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