#luckily the days of thunder exists

[rangerzath]

I'm sorry Zachariah...for everything...

[koukaimagines]

Hello!! What do you think of a scenario where a goofy reader goes quiet bc of yoon says something like “can you be serious for one second? I wish you’d just stop!” bc he’s stressed out. Then reader stays quiet for a few hours and the HHB don’t really notice until yoon catches her by herself and realizes she’s crying and was trying to hide she felt bad about it cue clearing misunderstandings and fluff!!

I think that sounds very interesting anon! Thank you for sending this one in! Yoon is so cute and I love writing him. Cue silly squabble followed by fluff! I hope this is good, I'm still a little rusty after prying my way out of writer's block and this is my first time writing a scenario request in a WHILE. But I had so much fun writing him! So once again, thank you! I hope any Yun fans reading enjoy it too.

Side note- I never know how to spell his name. Akayona seems based off of ancient korea with the names at least so Yoon feels right to me but I'm so used to seeing it spelt as Yun! I'll keep to Yoon in the writing for now, but what do you guys think?

Reader pronouns are she/her as used in anon's ask!

word count: 1402

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoon

The past few days have been awfully tense for the Happy Hungry Bunch and the Dark Dragon. Resources have been low and all your faces are fresh in the minds of the Kouka citizens. You’re on the run. Your access to village traders and merchants isn’t as lenient as it used to be— you’re forced to wear your hoods over your heads and keep out of sight.

On guard duty, while you and Yoon weren’t looking, a bundle of herbs was carried off by curious critters into the depths of the forest. Luckily, it was nothing you didn’t have seconds of, but resources being as scarce as they were, it weighed on Yoon’s mind quite heavily.��

“Crap— What were you doing??? That could’ve— ugh—” The young genius clenched his hands into fists as his mind turned upside down, trying to find a solution that didn’t exist. His fists loosened, and he found nothing but the end of his sentence. “That was at least one injury’s worth of herbs. Those plants don't grow around here.” He said, turning his back to you and crouching near his bag. He knew this wasn’t the time for an argument. He himself didn’t quite have the energy for one either.

"Well, at least the animals won’t have to worry about an injury then," you smirk, trying to ease his mind with a cute joke. You smile at the thought of raccoons putting their opposable thumbs to use with a rock somewhere, pounding the weeds the way you see Yoon do so often.

Unfortunately, your joke didn't quite land with him.

“Are you being serious?” He turns to you as he's crouched.

“I dunno, when am I ever?” You chuckle, not noticing how his tone is darker than it usually is when he banters with you. You smile at him in hopes that your expression would make him realize the situation itself wasn’t as dire as he made it out to be.

Yoon’s brows furrowed, and your smile faded. He rapidly shot up from his spot, his beautiful features scrunched in a scowl.

“Well, would it kill you to be serious for once??” He thundered. You blinked, trying to process his tone, why he was so upset— and why at you. His gaze grew more intense at your silence. “This is no time to be joking around! Do you realize that??? We’re already low on resources as it is, and you know with this group, injuries are as inevitable as there are stars in the sky!” 

Yoon bit his lip to try to put a lid on his boiling emotions. This was not the time. He needs to prepare for dinner.

“What’s wrong?” A voice emerges from beyond the tree trunks. Yona hurriedly steps through the beaten path and takes a glance back and forth between your expressions.

“What, are they fighting or something?” Hak strolls in, carrying a stack of twigs in his arm. You stay quiet. You don’t know how to answer that, at least not seriously, you suppose.

“Not really.” Yoon mumbles, turning his back to you once more to sort through the edible flora he’s found throughout the day. “Leave your wood by that trunk, Thunder Beast.” 

Your face feels numb at his answer, and you stare at the small back that never failed to support you and everyone else around him. His words echo in your head as footsteps approach you.

“Are you alright?” A dignified voice addresses you, and you look up to see Kija gazing at you with concern laced in his brow. You force a smile.

“Y-Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be? Yoon and I kinda messed up a bit, that’s all… Some raccoons had their way with some of his herbs.” You mutter, busying yourself by taking some materials the returning group brought back.

Kija eyed you with concern as you set down some dry leaves for kindle, but didn’t pry.

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

The tree branches rustled as the wind carried night across the sky. The fire lapped at the cold air of the season, and dinner was ready. Scooping some soup into some wooden bowls, Yoon bellowed the signal.

“Okay, good work everyone! Dinner’s ready.”

Six bodies crowded around the pot. Yoon raised a brow at the odd void he felt after seeing everyone present— everyone but you.

“Where’s Y/N?”

His question incited many heads to turn and scan the area.

“Ah… come to think of it, she said she’d be going to the bathroom…” Jaeha noted. “Quite some time ago,” he smirked awkwardly, trying to mask his worry as he noted the different colour of the sky now as opposed to when you spoke to him.

Concern began to shape Yoon’s features. “A while ago? Which way did she go?” His heart and mind began to race. His eyes wavered as he stood, and he set the ladle down in the pot filled with a concoction of gruel and herbs. 

“She stepped off somewhere that way. I’ll take Shinah with me, so you can sit tight, Yoon. I’ll bring your little darling back soon.” Jaeha winked. Yoon felt his cheeks warm.

 “She’s not!—” The pretty boy genius cut himself off as he swallowed his pride. This was not the time to fall for Jaeha’s antics. He sifted through the possible fates you might be subject to while his eyes aren’t on you, and a sudden pang hit his chest. At the same moment, Yoon struck an odd realization. 

Were you bothered by what he said earlier? 

Concern started to blur into frustration, annoyance, and guilt. “God… you idiot! What a pain...” He exclaimed under his breath. “Ugh, I’ll look for her! I need to talk to her!” He blurted, hurriedly gathering a few supplies and setting off towards the direction Jaeha pointed in.

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

It didn’t take long for Yoon to find you. You were a little ways out by the river. When he found you, the moonlight kissed your tears as they fell. You were hugging your knees as you watched the steady flow of the stream. The young boy clenched his chest in an attempt to quell an ache he knew he caused.

“Hey, Y/N—” He stepped closer to you, feeling his cheeks warm from the awkward predicament he’s put himself in. He tried to gather the words, but they just didn’t seem to want to come out. “You know, I—”

“I’m sorry,” you managed to say. He held his tongue. His throat felt tight.

That was his line.

“We’re dying just to survive— and I’m making light of things, I’m sorry. You were right.” You muttered through your sleeves as you wiped your disobedient tears. Yoon blinked. That’s not what he wanted to hear, and he was sure that wasn’t not the point you wanted to come to.

“That’s— That’s not it, Y/N, I—” He sighed. He set down his makeshift light source and sat down a ruler’s distance from you. “I’m the one who should be saying sorry. I completely went overboard—” He turned his gaze to the river. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you like that.” He balled his hands into fists on his lap as he fretted over you dimming your warm radiance all because of him. As silly as you were, your idiocy kept the group smiling on some of your worst nights— some of his worst nights— and was a warmth that was irreplaceable in his eyes. “We might be dying to survive, but— w-we can afford to spare a few weeds here and there.” He spoke haughtily.

His blue eyes shined as he lifted his gaze. He took a few shy glances at you before mumbling.  

“A-At least the animals won’t have to worry about an injury anymore, right?”

You turned to him in surprise. His cheeks were red and he looked away when you looked at him. A smile creeped on your lips— that one definitely landed for you.

"Yeah. Do you think raccoons would grind the herbs the way you do? They've got opposable thumbs, don't they?"

His eyes widened as his gaze returned to you. Your smile was infectious, and he began to feel its symptoms.

"You idiot." He whispered. "Even if they did, they wouldn't be able to do it half as well as I can."

With that, you both chuckled in each other's company before you made your way back for dinner.

[rhaenella]

You & Me - Rhys Montrose x Reader - Part 19

Part 18 | Part 20

Summary: What happens when reader assassin is tasked with killing the possible future mayor of London; Rhys Montrose. Politician by day, Eat the Rich Killer by night. But he isn’t the only person wearing different masks. 

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Violence, murder, immoral sociopathic behaviour, mentions of alcoholism, drug abuse and neglect, smut

Word count: 5k 

A/N: at the end.

Song: One For My Baby – Frank Sinatra

You ran a hand down the front of your form-fitting black dress, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles, taking a deep breath as you heard the car with Rhys’ driver speed off behind you. Rhys caught your eye then, shooting you a reassuring smile. 

“No need to be nervous,” he whispered into your ear as he placed a hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the back entrance of the Natural History Museum.

Sotheby’s was hosting tonight’s event in the impressive Hintze Hall, inside one of London’s most famous museums. Because, of course they were. It was a blatant display of wealth and power that the aristocrats thrived upon. 

A sudden blinding wave of lightning illuminated Rhys’ handsome features in the dark alley, followed by a loud crack of thunder in the distance. The summer storm had at last arrived, a clear foreboding for a certain attending guest. You wondered if he’d take notice or if he’d be too preoccupied sipping his champagne as he bid on works of art with questionable stories of origin.

“I’m not,” you assured Rhys with a small smile of your own, entering the museum side by side.

And you weren’t, really. You just needed this night to go according to plan, there was no room for error here. Especially with all of the onlookers surrounding you. 

Which is why you’d decided to enter through the backdoor, avoiding the spectacle that would surely ensue if you and Rhys had entered through the front where there was a line of photographers waiting. There was no way you’d be able to stay out of the spotlight tonight, but you’d both agreed that entering in a less conspicuous way would be beneficial. For both of you. Rhys didn’t want to hide you any longer, but he also wasn’t keen to throw you to the lions like that. 

Once you were through the door, a young attendant with an adorable mop of dark curls on top of his head stood at the ready, clutching a tablet and nodding in greeting. 

“Good evening, Mr. Montrose.”

Inwardly, you chuckled. There was no point in even trying to hide. Every single person in this city would surely recognise the man beside you within an instant.

Rhys nodded politely in return and the attendant started scrolling through his electronic guest list. He tapped his screen a few times and that’s when he expectantly looked up at you.

You were about to provide him with your alias that Colin had managed to add to the guest list, quietly hoping that the alias wouldn’t find its way to the press, but Rhys was quick to cut you off.

“You’ll see there’s a plus one next to my name,” Rhys spoke with a knowing lilt to his voice that only you would be able to pick up on.

You stiffened, feeling Rhys rub your lower back in a soothing manner, obviously meant to convey a silent message for you to play along. Apparently all the trouble you had gone through to get Colin to hack Sotheby’s systems had been for naught as Rhys had already taken the assumptive liberty to put himself on the guest list, with you as his plus one, conveniently not telling you about it beforehand. You didn’t dare look at his face for you could literally feel the smugness oozing out of his every damn pore.

“Arrogant,” you muttered under your breath. 

But you knew Rhys had heard you, feeling him teasingly pinch the skin right above your bum. 

Luckily, the attendant hadn’t heard you as he’d scrolled back to Rhys’ invitation, looking up at you both with an apologetic smile. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Montrose. My mistake, I had missed the annotation.”

“No need to apologise,” Rhys smiled, kind.

“Thank you very much, sir. Lola will lead you to the Hintze Hall. Have a pleasant evening.”

He gestured behind him to a young girl, barely eighteen, who was patiently waiting in the corner for a chance to be of service. You and Rhys thanked the attendant as you walked further inside, following Lola who had stepped out of the shadows with a “please, follow me.”

You walked through the unfamiliar dark corridors of the museum, passing through the Darwin Centre. Although you didn’t frequent the museum often, you still knew exactly where you were, having memorised the museum’s floor plan so you would know it by heart.

You kept your eye on Lola who was a couple of feet in front of you, making sure she couldn’t hear your next words.

“That was a little fucking presumptuous, Rhys,” you whispered accusingly.

“Was it?” Rhys’ eyebrows shot up, feigning innocence. “I figured you’d appreciate it that I eliminated the possibility of one of your aliases getting leaked to the press.”

You gritted your teeth, not able to counter that. You knew he was right, it had been the most prudent course of action. But the fact that he had done so likely days before you had even given your consent for him to join you tonight…

The only thing you could do was shoot him a scolding look. Rhys glanced down at you, amused. 

“Don’t give me that look. We’re in, aren’t we?”

“Right. But you were supposed to be my plus one.”

“Ah, that is true,” Rhys inclined his head. “But since we agreed to an equal partnership early on, I don’t think it should matter much.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were barely able to contain the smile threatening to spread across your features. He was arrogant as hell, but also charming beyond what was good for him, and you sure couldn’t stay ‘mad’ at him for long, or pretend to be at least.

Rhys, of course, immediately noticed the cracks in your facade, deliberately bumping his shoulder with yours. 

“Now, do you?” He added, smiling brightly.

“Oh, stop it,” you grinned.

Rhys chuckled, knowing he’d won. He held out his arm for you to take, which you did with a slight shake of your head just as you made a right turn into the Mammals gallery. 

You were glad Lola kept a brisk pace. You weren’t exactly scared, but the dim lighting did nothing to lessen the eerie feeling of being watched by hundreds of dead animals. Thankfully, you soon emerged on the other side, immediately being able to pick up the noise of a crowd accompanied by the low bass sounds of music. 

You crossed the final corridor, Lola signalling for you to precede her into the Hintze Hall, discreetly withdrawing back into the darkened corridor as she had successfully brought you to your destination. You thanked her with a smile, and you thought you saw a flicker of surprise in her eyes as she obviously wasn’t used to being acknowledged, let alone thanked, by one of the guests. 

It made your blood boil to think that all of these people working here tonight never received a proper thank you or compensation for all the hard work that they did. And it must be hard work, you thought. Dealing with all of these rich arseholes on a regular basis, never in a million years would you be able to manage that job. You’d likely get fired on the first day, unable to keep the scowl off of your face.

But the moment you stepped out on top of the Hintze Hall’s iconic staircase, you couldn’t help but be in slight awe of the striking Romanesque entrance. The partially barrel vaulted ceiling was intricately hand-painted and adorned with relief carvings of a multitude of different types of plants and animals. It was enclosed by a glass ceiling on both the left and the right side. You could distinctly make out that it had started raining cats and dogs outside, meaning you’d made it just in time before you would’ve been absolutely soaked to the bone from the ten seconds it would’ve taken you to get from the car to the museum’s entrance. 

The pelting of the raindrops on the glass ceiling, along with the occasional flash of lightning, contributed perfectly to create an idiosyncratic atmosphere in the hall. The ambient lighting helped with that as well, an almost golden haze blanketing the architecture and the attending guests, leaving space for dark, shadowy corners where one could easily disappear into. How convenient.

A single beam of light effectively accentuated the 25-metres long blue whale that was suspended from the ceiling in the centre of the hall, its length stretching all the way from the front to the back. About two hundred or so people adhering to the mandatory black tie dresscode were mingling beneath the majestic skeleton, sipping their champagne and laughing in that particular way only the posh can manage.

The first of two small stages was set up in the left centre of the hall, where a Frank Sinatra tribute band was playing some of the Rat Pack’s all too familiar tunes. You smiled fondly, always having had a soft spot for his music. And to be honest, it did fit the overall vibe of the event — classy, swanky, but most of all, sophisticated.

The other small stage was set up in the back with a few rows of folding chairs in front of it. Later tonight, everyone would gather there for the bidding. For now, most were still eyeing the pieces for sale. The works of art, ranging from what seemed to be an early Rembrandt to a life-size Bernini sculpture, were displayed beneath the several high arches on both sides of the hall. 

You knew Sotheby’s was one of the oldest and most respected auction houses in the world, but still you wondered about the legality of this event — the most exclusive one of them all. You glanced at Rhys who was busy gauging the crowd, trying to ascertain whether there were any familiar faces among them, friend or foe.

“Why does it feel like we just stepped foot in a sanctioned black market auction?”

Rhys looked at you, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly. “That’s because we have.”

He nudged you forward and when you started down the grand staircase, it almost felt like you were Cinderella entering the prince’s ball. It was an accurate assessment really, because these people below all lived in a fairy tale world, completely oblivious to the real problems in the secular world around them.

“As long as you have enough money, you can make anything appear to be legal,” Rhys added, gesturing pointedly around him. 

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

As you stepped foot on the main floor, Rhys effortlessly guided you through the masses, grabbing two champagne flutes off of a tray from a waiter passing by. He handed you one and clinked your glasses with a tip of his head. 

“To change,” Rhys toasted.

You playfully raised a single eyebrow, nonetheless saluting your glass before taking a tentative sip. The sparkling, fruity complexion of the alcohol tasted as delicious as you’d expect it to be served during an event like this.

“And what exactly are you planning to change, Mr. Montrose?” You asked as you sauntered past the various works of art.

Rhys licked his lips, eyes twinkling in the golden light as he leaned into you, pretending to let you in on a carefully kept secret.

“Everything.”

You stopped walking, fully turning to him with that same mischievous look in your eyes.

“Oh, that’s right. You have big plans for this city,” you quoted, spectacularly failing at trying to imitate the deep gravel of his voice. 

“Exactly,” he nodded, grinning.

Surely these big plans of his would have a bit of negative impact on the people attending here tonight. They didn’t know it yet, still rooting for the man who they thought would make them even richer than they already were — a man who was, in their eyes, simply sympathising with the working class to gain their favour in the elections. Oh boy, how they were wrong. In reality, it was the other way around. 

You laughed. “These people aren’t ready.”

“No,” Rhys answered, laughing with you. “They’re certainly not.”

That’s when you noticed you had stopped near the next work of art — a beautifully crafted, bronze statue of a young man. Like a crow catching a shiny object, you dragged Rhys along, trying to get a better look at it up close. Rhys didn’t object, following your lead. 

When you stood in front of the statue, intently reading the little label beside it, you scoffed. Just as you expected. The statue was estimated to date back to the last quarter of the fourth century BCE, around the time of Alexander the Great’s death, also known as the transitional phase of Greek art — the start of the Hellenistic period. 

“Do you know how rare authentic Greek bronze statues are?”

Rhys closely studied the statue in front of him, as if it would somehow provide him with the correct answer. He didn’t know much about Ancient Greek art. Not like you did. At uni, you had successfully completed a minor on the subject, which is why you currently couldn’t believe your eyes. 

“By the tone of your voice I can imagine they’re quite rare,” Rhys murmured. 

“Yes, they are,” you grumbled. “This should be part of a museum collection and studied by experts, preferably in Greece — not disappear into some private collector’s country estate.”

“I agree,” Rhys said, glancing around him. 

You followed his gaze and startlingly realised that the scattered group of people that once stood conversing with one another around the bronze statue, had all turned to stare at the two of you, some even whispering to each other. You froze, not really knowing what to do except for officially saying farewell to your anonymity. Thankfully, Rhys wasn’t so thrown by the sudden interest in you both and he merely raised his half-empty champagne flute in greeting, providing them with his signature, charming smile.

All of them answered with their own forms of greeting, smiling intriguingly, some even moving to make their way over to approach you. That and the stifling nature of their curious stares shook you out of your momentary frozen state. God, you didn’t have time for this. 

You mentally distanced yourself from the, in all likelihood, stolen art around you, as well as these vultures circling you to seize their chance at speaking with the one and only Rhys Montrose. 

You were here with a clear mission — to find Daniel Fernsby, lure him away, and kill him. And that’s what you would be focusing on.

“Rhys, we don’t have time for this. We’ve got to find Fernsby,” you whispered, turning your head so no one would be able to read the words on your lips.

Rhys glanced around him once more, his eyes landing on something behind you as he looked back over his shoulder to the larger hall. 

“I have an idea,” he smirked, taking both of your glasses to deposit them nearby before leading you away from the greedy vultures. 

At least, that’s what you thought Rhys would do. Instead, you quickly found yourselves in the centre of the hall, directly beneath the blue whale and right next to the Sinatra tribute band where people were slow dancing to the music on a provisional dance floor.

Rhys turned to face you as he chivalrously held out his hand. “May I?”

You forced a smile onto your face, begrudgingly accepting his hand, knowing you couldn’t possibly decline as you felt a growing number of eyes on you. What the hell was he thinking? 

Rhys placed his hand on your lower back, pulling you to him as he started to sway you to the music. You rested the hand holding your clutch on his shoulder, your other hand clasping his own. You looked up into his blue eyes that were sparkling with unobstructed delight, knowing full well there was nothing you could do now but follow his lead. 

Why had you accepted his company, again? Oh, that’s right…

“I knew this would be a mistake.”

“What? How so?” 

You warily examined the audience slowly forming around you. 

“We’re not supposed to stand out, Rhys.”

“Well, you should’ve thought about that before putting on that dress, darling.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him for a second time tonight. Rhys clocked it, laughing softly at your exasperated expression.

“I do actually have a plan here,” Rhys said. “Would you like to hear it?”

“Does it involve you continuously finding excuses for us to dance tonight?” 

“No. Yes,” he admitted. “But that’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then, what?”

Rhys leaned in, his lips hovering close to your ear. 

“This is the easiest way to have him come to us. Look at all of these people gathering around,” he whispered. “I’ve already spotted Fernsby. Have you?”

You furrowed your brows, leaning further into Rhys as you scanned the crowd over his shoulder, trying not to blatantly squint at people due to the low lighting.

“Where is he?” 

“Your three o’clock.”

You let your gaze wander to the right, Rhys moving you in a little circle so you would gain a clearer view. That’s when you spotted him. Daniel Fernsby, in the flesh. 

He wasn’t looking at you, fortunately. No, he was seemingly far too busy checking out an attractive woman, at least half his age.

“I’m assuming that’s not Mrs. Fernsby,” Rhys quipped, having noticed the same lustful look in Fernsby’s eye.

“Definitely not.”

You felt kind of sorry for his actual wife. Poor Annabelle. You remembered Ms. Edwards telling you how she thought Annabelle was quite a nice lady — kind and very friendly. She was obviously not here tonight, accompanying her husband. 

“I suppose I’ll be doing two women a favour tonight,” you said, leaning back to look up at Rhys.

“Don’t forget the millions of people who’ll still be able to pay for their medication after he’s gone, as he won’t be able to carry out his egotistical plans to get richer,” he remarked.

“Very true, indeed.”

“So,” Rhys said, shifting gears. “Seeing as we’ve found him — let’s enjoy this a little while longer, shall we?” 

He emphasised his words by spinning you around expertly, moving you along to the languid beat of the music. Rhys didn’t give you time to object as you flowed across the dance floor, following his graceful movements with remarkable ease. He was a talented dancer, you’d give him that, feeling entirely in tune with the music.

Rhys twirled you around again, dipping you low and pausing for a moment before bringing you back up, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

You laughed at his actions, strangely starting to feel more relaxed by the minute. Or maybe you should’ve expected it. Rhys always managed to make you feel more at ease with him, to make you feel seen and safe. He smiled at you, bright and encouraging, just as the music shifted, the opening notes of the next song’s soft melodic piano reverberating through the packed hall.

Rhys’ smile only grew, dimples appearing as he moved the two of you in time to the new melody. You happily followed his lead this time, feeling a surge of joy at his infectious smile.

“So, set ‘em up, Joe, I got a little story I think you should know,” he sang along to the song the band was playing, his eyes dancing with amusement. 

You stared at him, eyes widening a little. Not simply because of his obvious, playful jab at Jonathan, but mostly because of hearing Rhys’ beautiful singing voice for the first time. You had no idea that he could sing, the deep vibrato of his voice instantly becoming a sound you longed to hear each and every day.

Rhys continued to dance you around the tiny little circle you had claimed as your dance space, humming to the tune of one of your favourite Sinatra songs, the people around you fading away to the background, forgotten. 

When he chose to lean in again, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, softly singing to you in a way that caused all the hairs on your skin to stand upright, you swore you felt your heart skip a beat.

“Make it one for my baby, and one more for the road.”

You gripped his shoulder a little tighter, hoping the poison filled bottle of Chanel no. 5 inside your clutch wouldn’t shatter. Swallowing thickly, you tried to keep your cool and to remember that you were in a very public setting. Together. For the first time. 

“You do like the classics, don’t you?” Rhys murmured in your ear, low, sending another shiver down your spine.

God, he knew exactly what he was doing. 

You didn’t know how much of your exploits in here tonight would eventually make its way to the outside world — to the media and the tabloids. But you certainly weren’t ignorant when out of the corner of your eye you saw a flash of a camera. Or was that just another burst of lightening?

“Not just the classics,” you replied, sounding way breathier than you’d intended. 

Rhys hummed in response, leaning back, swiftly glancing around him. Everyone was staring at you. Everyone. And a quick look around yourself confirmed that it also included Daniel Fernsby.

More and more people had started to gravitate towards the dance floor as well, inspired by the loving couple in the centre. But you found yourself caring less and less about the onlookers. These vultures couldn’t harm you, or harass you. Not as long as Rhys was there, protective over you like no one else had ever been before in the near three decades that you’d walked this earth.

Rhys had also noticed your more relaxed expression, your muscles less tense as you continued to dance, resulting in a pleased glimmer in his eyes. You could have stayed in this moment forever. But when he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your cheek, you caught a glimpse of a retreating individual over Rhys’ shoulder, one with salt and pepper hair, perfectly styled in a low quiff. 

It was Fernsby. 

Fuck. You couldn’t let him get out of your line of sight.

You reluctantly slowed down your steps, which got Rhys’ attention at once, only swaying back and forth now. He looked at you, puzzled.

“Fernsby’s on the move,” you whispered, hating to burst your little bubble. “It’s time to move.”

“Alright,” Rhys’ gaze sharpened instantly.

Neither of you wanted this little moment to end, but you were also aware that you were here for a reason. And that reason was retreating to somewhere on the other side of the hall where you, at present, didn’t have eyes on him.

“What’s the plan?”

“I’m going to catch his eye and lure him away. Then I’ll have my way with him in the secluded Attenborough Studio, which we passed by earlier before heading into the Mammals gallery,” you explained, the contours of your well-crafted plan reclaiming centre stage in your mind.

The increased amount of dancing couples allowed for the perfect opportunity for you to quietly make your way to the edge of the dance floor, and to hopefully sneak away unnoticed so you could go after Fernsby.

Rhys hummed thoughtfully, nodding once. 

“And where do I fit into this? I want to be there when you end his life, Y/N,” he said greedily, making sure no one else could hear him.

“I’ll text you once everything’s secure. But you’ll have to make yourself scarce in the meantime, I need to get him to come with me willingly.”

“Trying to make me jealous, are you?”

“No,” you shrugged innocently. “But you’re always free to leave if you want.”

He playfully narrowed his eyes, pressing your bodies closer together, still swaying you along to the music. 

“No way, darling. You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

You eyed him cheekily. “Alright, then. Let’s do this.”

You started to move through the crowd, Rhys following close behind, not yet letting go of your hand. People still turned to look at you when you passed them, but most of the initial boost of attention had subsided. You neared a small group of men standing around a high table who seemed to be deep in conversation. Initially, you didn’t pay them any mind, until one of them spotted Rhys. 

“Oi,” the man shouted, waving furiously. 

The rest of the party quickly joined him in the incessant waving and shouting to get you both to come over. They’d obviously been drinking, there was no denying that. Some had even discarded their suit jackets already. You paused, not recognising any of them. Although, the men of various ages and sizes seemed to be more focused on Rhys than you.

You turned to him, your brows raised in a silent question. Rhys sighed, audibly. 

“I know them. Kind of. They work in parliament,” he explained, already gesturing to them that he’d be there in a minute.

You laughed at his obvious reluctance to go over to them. “They seem like a quaint bunch.”

“That’s because they are. But you never know when certain connections can come in handy.” 

“I guess so,” you smiled, waving at the men who were openly staring at you.

“How about I’ll grace them with my presence whilst you,” Rhys paused, considering. “Work your magic.”

You cocked your head, pursing your lips. You weren’t exactly looking forward to flirt with your victim any more than Rhys was, but it was the most efficient way to quickly and discreetly lure him away from prying eyes. Fernsby’s wordless and one-sided interaction with the attractive woman from earlier only confirmed that.

“And what will you be talking about?” You asked, ignoring his quip, biting your lip as you stole one more glance at the small group. “They’re obviously gonna ask you about us.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’m going to be very coy about the stunning lady who will be too busy seducing another man,” Rhys smirked. 

You met his eye, shooting him a tight-lipped smile.

“If you don’t shut up, I might do more than just flirt with him,” you cautioned.

It succeeded in wiping the shit-eating grin off his face, Rhys clearing his throat. “Right. Message received.”

“I’m glad.”

You were quietly staring each other down before you huffed a laugh, unable to keep up the charade. In turn, his lips quirked up in another one of his charming and dazzling, little smiles.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“You can count on it,” Rhys vowed. 

He momentarily took you by surprise as he moved to kiss you sweetly on the lips, light fingertips lingering on your exposed neckline. Rhys was apparently completely unbothered by the battered looking group of politicians standing a mere ten yards away.

“Be careful,” he whispered against your lips.

“I promise,” you said, squeezing his hand.

––

Rhys watched as you walked away from him, following the path of Daniel Fernsby. When you’d disappeared into the crowd, he turned around to face the group of nosy politicians who’d clearly watched the entire exchange between you, unapologetically he might add.

Most were around his age, but a couple of them had already begun their political career in the City when Rhys had still been in primary school. You never knew who could turn out to be useful, so Rhys had decided early on to ‘befriend’ as many of them as he could. Especially those who could potentially help him move up in the world at some point in time.

He didn’t know the group extremely well, though. Not really staying in touch with them besides the handful of different events they’d frequented over the years. Albeit recently, Carson and Harris had participated in his successful charity run, and some of the others he’d seen occasionally at Sundry House. Which was reason enough to not become best friends with them as far as Rhys was concerned.

Still, the moment Rhys walked up to them, he was welcomed by a chorus of cheers and wooping. 

“She’s fucking gorgeous,” one of them called out. 

“Well done, mate,” a man named Rogers added, clapping him firmly on the back.

Rhys laughed, dipping his head in acknowledgement. 

You had been right though, they immediately cornered him with a straight-up inquisition, making Rhys wonder if they were secretly a group of elderly women who couldn’t live without their daily dose of gossip.

But just as he’d assured you, he managed to coyly deflect and circle around their questions. However, he definitely didn’t mention the man you were currently going after. Rhys had made a few jokes about it to you, mostly because he didn’t want to think too long about you spending time with another man, any man. A possessive dominance threatening to come to the surface. Even now, Rhys had to make an effort not to clench his fists and continuously look around to search your familiar figure, dressed to perfection.

The fact that Fernsby would be lying dead on the stone-cold floor tonight whilst Rhys would be able to take you home afterwards and take his time slowly peeling that immaculate dress off of your body, reassured him somewhat.

Rhys focused on those thoughts, as well as distracting himself some more with his current company, only half listening to their discussion on the Brexit’s influence on international trade, adding something to the conversation every now and then. They had quickly ceased their suggestive quips and questions about you when they’d learned that Rhys would only entertain them to a certain degree, shutting down anything that went too deep and personal.

So, therefore, Brexit. A wonderful conversation topic. Privately, Rhys sighed. 

In the meantime, he was also acutely aware of his phone burning a hole in his pocket as he not so patiently waited for you to text him. He was desperate to know how you were faring, eager to join you in Attenborough Studio — soon to be functioning as your private kill room. 

Rhys was about to take out his phone, to make sure he hadn’t accidentally put it on silent and inadvertently missed your text, when a bellowing, thunderous clap vibrated through the hall, followed by a tumultuous echo of high-pitched screams.

Then, everything went dark.

–––– 

A/N: Part 19!!! It took me a little while to actually finish this chapter so when I went back through my notes of what I wanted to incorporate, I noticed that I had literally written down ‘Location: Hintze Hall with the fucking 25 metre whale’

I mean it is kind of ridiculous, and also pretty sweet, that there’s actual events taking place in the Natural History. Definitely look it up online if you’ve never seen photos of the Hintze Hall events before, you’ll see how impressive the whale really is lol

Also, I lied about Run Baby Run being this chapter’s soundtrack, instead it’ll be next chapter’s soundtrack. I decided lastminute to split up this chapter into two parts, deleting half of what I had already written and opting to go a different route, which includes next week’s chapter being entirely in Rhys’ pov :) 

––

Tags: @artaxerxesthegreat

[pokemon-card-of-the-day]

Pokemon Card of the Day #3070: Umbreon (Lost Thunder)

Umbreon had one job, which was to punish the opponent for taking a KO. This made it pair well with low HP Pokemon, generally Darkness-types. Luckily for it, Spiritomb existed, so there was an obvious landing spot, and there was some potential for Hoopa to be used along this too. On the other hand, it wasn't that devastating most of the time, so you were using a Stage 1 for something that was situational. The trade-off was pretty obvious here, and there was at least some hope since those low HP Pokemon it clearly liked being with were all Basic Pokemon and therefore didn't need a lot of space themselves.

110 HP wasn't spectacular for a Stage 1, and was sometimes quite prone to a KO back after getting its hit in. The Fighting Weakness wasn't particularly important since the biggest remaining Fighting-types in SUM-On, Buzzwole and Lycanroc-GX, both hit hard enough to KO anyway. The Psychic Resistance occasionally kept Umbreon alive, as while most Psychic decks with things like Malamar or Mewtwo & Mew-GX had plenty of ways to KO, it did limit options just a little bit. Umbreon could retreat for a single Energy if it survived and wanted to get back to whatever other Pokemon you had. Umbreon did only work on specific turns, after all.

Umbreon's entire role was about Retaliate. A Darkness Energy (or something like Rainbow) got 30 damage, but 90 more was added if any of your Pokemon were Knocked Out by damage from an opponent's attack during their last turn. You couldn't just plop this down and immediately use it due to being a Stage 1, which took away the surprise factor, but it still worked nicely on paper with something like Hoopa or Spiritomb to get a cheap hit off right after giving up a Prize. Since these sorts of decks tended to revolve around Pokemon that gave up a single Prize, having an Umbreon or two on the Bench could provide solid hits while giving extra time to set up the next thing if needed.

Dark Cutter did 60 damage for a Darkness and a Colorless Energy, which was very unimpressive.

Umbreon could act as a back-up, generally for Spiritomb decks that usually gave up a Prize right after attacking. If needing an extra turn to set up the next one, Umbreon provided a back-up plan. The version without Umbreon was far more successful in general since you fit in either more Trainers or worked with Rainbow Energy with other types of Pokemon to hit important opponent while Umbreon was a Stage 1 that shared a type with the things it got used with most. Still, having the back-up plan was nice, so a few people got nice results with this.

[crazyforteyam]

My True Love (part 2) - Realization

pairing : triangle love between Neteyam, f! Omaticaya reader, and Va'ru (my OC)

part one

summary : Y/N felt the turmoil inside her as she just realized the little things Neteyam always did to her. Is she pick the wrong person to love all this time?

notes : This fic takes place 20 years after Avatar 1 & events in ATWOW don't exist + reader is Kaa’ni & Saeyla's daughter (they r hunter trainees under Tsutey and go with Jake in his Iknimaya on Avatar 1)

contains : forbidden love + unrequited love + slow burn trope + angst and fluff + Neteyam is a simp but the reader is oblivious xx

“Are you gonna wear that?” Neteyam's brow furrowed, judging the top you wear.

“Yes. Why?” You look at your top, decorated with iridescent feathers. One of your favorites.

Neteyam frowns. “The feather looks dull. Also, the ropes are too thin. Change it, I’ll fix that top for you tomorrow,”

Your face filled with confusion. In your mind, the top is just fine, and nothing to worry about. But you finally turn around and change into another top, and you put your old top next to Neteyam’s stuff.

“How about now?” You stand in front of him.

“It’s better,” he looks at your new top and nods. He then wears his ikran visor. “I will go to patrol today with Dad. Also, Mom told me yesterday, that she will be happy if you help her sew some ornaments for the celebration,”

You nod. “Sure, I’ll help her,”

Neteyam smiles. “Okay, I’ll go now,”

You watch his departure with his ikran. Your relationship with him now is somehow a bit changed, now becoming more relaxed. You enter the marui again, and your eyes find the engagement necklace on your stuff. Luckily a woman found it near the marui and gave it to you. Now, your parents will never be angry.

You hold the necklace in your palm and observe it, as some new thoughts fill your mind. It’s a beautiful necklace actually, with a light blue pendant. You take a deep sigh and finally wear it around your neck. 

~~~~~~~~~

Neteyam flies around the Hallelujah Mountains. His patrol with Jake is done, luckily there is nothing to worry about. He also already collected the feathers and some tree roots for fixing your top. He is about to fly back home when he thinks of something. So then he flies to Angel Falls, the waterfall that separates the forest and the ocean.

the atmosphere around the waterfall seems dangerous and the sound of the water is very thunderous, it seems that no one can afford to live here. Maybe Norm is lying about Va’ru? Until Neteyam saw someone appears between the trees just a few miles from the waterfall. He couldn’t see the person clearly, so he landed his ikran on the nearest branch and walks sneakily between the trees. He squints his eyes and tries to recognize the person. It's Va’ru. Finally, Va’ru is found. 

When Neteyam sees Va'ru, he feels something strange in his stomach. He don't know how to react, should he be happy? The reason of his happines is you, but your source of happines is always Va'ru.

He grunts. It’s the green-eyed monster. He couldn’t hold it and he think of it all the way back home. 

While Netayam secretly finds Va’ru, at the same moment you are sitting in Neytiri’s marui, helping her to sew some beads to the dancing costume. A celebration will be held in two days, to remember the clan's victory against the sky people in the war 20 years ago. Everybody is busy, and Neytiri asks for your help to sew some costumes.

The two of you are sitting face-to-face. You always adore Neytiri, she radiates a strong aura. After Mo'at's passing, Neytiri became Tsahik. She is also a warrior, the only Palulukan Makto in the clan. Not only that, but she is also a gorgeous woman. Minutes passed in silence with both of you sewing, until she finally spoke.

“So, how are you with Neteyam?” she asks, her hands going up and down with the needles, sewing some costumes.

“We are all right,” you faked a reassuring smile, trying to convince her.

Neytiri smiles. Then she said, “Neteyam never touched any woman before he touch you,” 

Really? You furrow your eyebrow, as you know the facts that some girls here are completely head over heels for him, hoping to be his mate.

“But, I think there are plenty of girls here who like him?” You lifted your face, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Of course. But he never interested in them,” Neytiri answers calmly.

Then she grins, as her eyes lighten remembering something from the past.

“I remember, when he was still 10 years old, he went back running, with a grin on his face. He hugged me and said, ‘Mother, I found the girl that I’m gonna marry!’ and when I asked who is that girl, he answered without any hesitation at all. ‘It’s Y/N, Mother!” 

She giggles and continues the story. 

“Of course, I thought his words were just some kid jokes. But look now! Seems like the Great Mother herself unites the two of you,”

Is it what Great Mother wants? Is my fate to be Neteyam’s mate, although I never love him? The question arises in your mind, as you listen to Neytiri's story, try to look excited.

“Y/N,” Suddenly, Neytiri stops sewing and she stares deeply into your eyes. “Take care of Neteyam, will you?”

“I will try my best,” 

Neytiri smiles. “There is always only one woman in Neteyam’s life, and that woman is you,”

Then she pulls back, passing you some clothes and needles, and orders you to finish other costumes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is always only one woman in Neteyam’s life, and that woman is you.

Neytiri’s words play again and again in your mind like a never-ending speech. You begin to be restless. It’s just a simple word that she said yesterday, but why it still haunts you now?

Now your gaze fell on Neteyam's figure, who is fixing your top. You are standing behind him, facing his broad shoulders decorated with stripes. His long fingers move with ease, his talent in sewing is as good as his mother's. When he finally finishes, he stands up and looks a bit shocks when he realizes that you are already looking at him. Neteyam approaches you with your top in his palm.

“It’s finished. You can wear it to the celebration,” He says.

“Thank you, Neteyam,” You say your gratitude, and smile to him. His eyebrow is lifted by your action, but he smiles back at you.

The celebration starts at night. You and Neteyam get dressed and then enter the celebration together. Of course, you wear the engagement necklace. Neteyam wears a beautiful woven choker made of iridescent stones, and for the first time, you find him looking quite handsome. Your parents, Ka’ani and Saeyla find you both, then talk in some conversations until the music starts.

Ka’ani smiles. “You two must dance!” and he shoves both of you into the circle. The music starts to play. So, you and Neteyam dance together. It's awkward at the beginning, but it gets better then. Actually, you are quite surprised that Neteyam can dance well.

In between the music, you tease him. “I don’t know that you can dance,”

He chuckles. “I practice a lot,”

Practice? You remember Neytiri said that Neteyam never touched any girl before, so his answers confuse you. You ask him again. “With who?”

“Kiri,” he answers with a slight smile.

Unbeknownst to you, there is another fact in his word. Yes, he practiced with Kiri. But he only practices so he can dance properly with you.

However, knowing the fact that you love Va’ru, he doesn’t want to hope much. His courtship with you will end soon, and you are not his. As the dance goes on, he gets a bit sad inside. He already finds Va’ru hiding place. So that means that you and Va’ru will reunite soon. He knows that you always choose Va’ru instead of him, although he is the future Olo’eyktan. Even if he has all the titles in this world, he still can’t be with you.

All these sad thoughts made him feel dizzy. He needs a distraction. His eyes look at the corner, to find Lo’ak and his friends sitting in a circle, drinking and laughing. Maybe a drink can help.

When the dance stops, he says to you. “Just enjoy the party okay? I will go to get some drink,”

You nod and go to where food is placed, some fine teylu and fruits. Tuk and Kiri find you, and you sit beside her. Then you took some teylu and ate. You and Kiri are having some talks when suddenly, Lo’ak approaches you with a panicked face.

“Y/N, please help us. Neteyam is heavily drunk!”

Both Kiri and you gasped, and Kiri gestured to you to follow Lo’ak. So you follow him, and walk toward the circle on the corner, the place where Na’vi usually gets a drink. When you finally find Neteyam, you see him completely plastered. He is swaying, staggering, bumping into walls, and knocking stuff over. Damn, how many drinks did he have?

“Is he always this drunk?” you ask Lo’ak while you and he drag Neteyam’s body to a dark corner so people won’t see the future Olo'eyktan in this condition. Seems like Neteyam doesn't realize his surroundings, as he keeps talking and grins widely like a fool.

“Well, he sometimes drinks. But, I never see him drink this much before. Something must be bothering his mind,” Lo’ak shrugs with a pout on his face.

After that, you and Lo’ak carry Neteyam’s body together, with you on the right and Lo’ak on the left. Both Neteyam’s arms curled in your and Lo’ak shoulder. The three of you left the celebration through a back lane and walk back to your marui. 

Lo'ak and you then put Neteyam in a sitting position inside the marui, leaning against the wall. He still mumbles and his head swings around crazily.

Lo’ak then looks at you, with his hand stretching his neck. “Um, Y/N, I’m sorry, but I still want to go to the party,” he grins innocently.

“It’s okay. Thank you Lo’ak. You may leave, I’ll take care of him,” You smile at Lo’ak, then observe Neteyam’s conditions.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Yeah, he may be drunk, but sometimes, drunken words are sober thoughts, right?”

Your ears perk up hearing Lo’ak words and when you turn your head to question him, Lo’ak was already gone. Neteyam suddenly stands up and mumbles again, even more, crazier than before. You approach him, standing face-to-face.

Neteyam’s eyes found you. “You’re soo pretty,” he mumbles, and approaches you closer, his hand touching your hair. You can smell the intoxicating scent from his mouth. “Pretty, pretty girl!” Neteyam lifts his arms and walks in a circle, making some moves like dancing. He stops suddenly, in front of you again.

“Hey pretty girl, can I say something?” 

“What?”

“Nothing,” he grins, then explodes into a giddy laugh.

“Hey pretty girl, guess what? I found your lover yes-teerr-daaayy,” Neteyam babbles again.

“What!?” you ask him again with a raised voice, but he only giggles. 

“Pretty girl have a l-oo-verrr, and that’s not m-ee!”

“Where did you find him?” you grip his shoulder and try to talk to him, but it's no use. He is still drunk, even now his necklace is untied accidentally, caused by his crazy moves.

Shit. How can you talk to a drunk person? You take his necklace from his neck and save it on the table. Then you sigh and stand in front of him, making sure he doesn't break stuff around him.

“I know, he can make pretty girl ha-p-pyy! No, he surely will make her happy, the happiee-e-stt girl in the wo-o-rld! Obviously more than me-e!”

His words make your eyebrow furrow. What is he talking about? 

“I know, when Va’ru sees pretty girl again he will shout her na-m-ee,” Neteyam made a funnel in front of his mouth with his fingers and began shouting your name. “Y/N! Then pretty girl will run to him. Run-run! Finally, pretty girl runs back to her lo-vee-rr!” 

Neteyam laughs out loud. “Then I would watch it all!" But now his smile disappears, and his eyes become empty. "The pretty girl taught me how to break my he-aart,” 

You stunned. Are these all the things he’s been hiding all this time? You know his words can be just some bullshit, but you can’t resist as a strange feeling suddenly crawls inside your chest. You drag his body closer to the hammock. 

Seems like all of Neteyam’s energy is now drowning, as his eyes become heavy. He suddenly collapses on the hammock. You sit beside him, and his fingers touch your cheek weakly. 

“Hey pretty girl, can I say something?” 

"What?" You whisper.

“Nothing,” His face engrave with a stupid smile. Then he closes his eyes, and snores. Finally, he is asleep.

You lie next to Neteyam in the same hammock. His braids are lying in a mess around his head, some even covering his face. You tuck all his braids behind his ear, so now you can see his face clearly. Neteyam’s eyes clenched shut and his ivory patterns glow in the dark. Your fingers linger on his forehead, tracing all his stripes, then down to his cheek and jaw.  

Your eyes blink slowly, and your mind travels back to some events of the past.

How he saves you and brings your body back into the marui.

How he instantly flies into the forest to collect the yalna bark for you.

How he notices that your top is looking dull, and fixes it on the next day.

How he is still willing to help you, even after you yelled at him. 

Your eyes get teary as you nuzzle into his chest and close your eyes, feeling his heartbeat. Without your knowledge, you fall asleep in that position.

Although he says nothing, seems like now you see everything. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, you wake up and find an empty space next to you. You squint and walk forward. Turns out, Neteyam is standing outside, leaning his figure on the marui walls. 

This morning is surely a surprise to him, to find himself waking up hugging your body. Shit, what did he do last night? The last moment he remembers is sitting beside Lo’ak and drinking. But after that, it’s just a bizarre memory. How did he suddenly sleep with your arms curled in his body? Although he can’t deny that he feels warm when you do it. Then he turns his face when he hears your step. You appear from inside the marui.

“Good morning, Y/N,” He greets you.

 You reply to him. “Morning, Neteyam,”

Neteyam sighs, his face filled with guilt and he shook his head. “Look, I made a mistake last night. I get drunk, and I don’t know exactly what words I was saying. You must know, it’s all just rubbish,” 

"It's alright. You didn't say anything," You smile, trying to ensure him. He tilts his head and seems surprised by your reaction. Other things pop into his mind, a thing that he should have told you before.

"Also, I have to tell you something,” Neteyam speaks again. “I found Va’ru hiding spot. You are right, it's not far from Angel Falls.”

You nod but say no word. This response somehow makes Neteyam confused, so he asks you again. “So, when are you gonna meet him?”

“How about tomorrow?” You offer an option.

“Okay. Tomorrow I’ll take you there,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

note: to be continued! I will be very happy if you leave a reaction whether like/comment/reblogs, lmk what you think of this fiction! :D

taglisst : @strawberryclouds22

[dzamie-oc]

Voretober 09 - Wheel

what the hell am I supposed to do with "wheel"

Length: 1600 words Vore type: Oral vore, unwilling prey, F/M Fandom: None Other info: snake/anthro, digestion as threat Summary: A fox on the run finds a fortuitous hiding spot, and the snake in it is very friendly! Surely nothing will go wrong.

David vaulted over a fallen log, then took a tight left around a boulder, using his fluffy to counterbalance, before using it to leap across a stream. His pursuer may have been faster than him, but he knew these woods like the back of his hand. Unfortunately, that didn't mean the fox could keep it up forever, or even lose his tracker; he'd have to settle on a hiding place, but all the trees took too long to climb, the bushes were too thin, and the stream was simply too slow. Running mostly on autopilot, his limbs carried him over and around what David hoped would be a tough route to follow, while he searched his memory and sight for a big enough tree or log hollow, a cave, anything.

A looming, black shape grabbed his attention; without a better plan, David swung his arm around a thin tree and beelined for… a huge tire, laying across one of the forest's tourism nature trails. The fox inwardly grimaced at the sign of heavy industrial equipment, but decided it was ultimately a boon: worrying about future development would have to wait for him to know that his future would even exist. After one last peek over his shoulder, checking if his pursuer, and thus he, could be easily seen, David dove into the middle of the tire and shimmied into its cavity. Opaque, relatively small, and granting him shadow to hide in, a fantastic stroke of luck.

"Gah! Woah, where'd you come from?" At the new voice, David's heart thundered. Luckily, he didn't recognize it, so he at least knew who it wasn't.

Still, the fox looked around for the source, hesitant to speak up, just in case. On the slightly sunnier side of the tire, he caught the shimmer of mottled, brown scales, and as his eyes adjusted to the shade, he saw more and more of the stranger. A long snake coiled over and around herself, only barely encircled by the massive tire, with her head resting about a third of the way around from him. Scales slid against scales as she drew closer, keen curiosity in her bright yellow eyes.

This time, it was intimidation, not fear of discovery, that stayed David's tongue, so the snake flickered hers and tried again. "Not that I mind company, but I was in the middle of a nap…" she said, then turned her head to yawn; Her lower jaw wiggled back and forth before returning to normal at the end. "…hello? Foxy?"

Realizing that she expected him to speak, David finally found his voice. "I… I'm hiding from someone. I don't know for certain what will happen, but I really, really don't want to be caught." A thought struck him, and he consulted his mental map of the forest. "Has this tire been here long? I don't remember it when I passed by a few days ago."

"Oh, it's mine. A portable hide, and one not out of place nearly anywhere!" The snake tapped her head affectionately against the inner rubber. "It took a bit to learn how to roll in it, but well worth it!"

The fox sighed, relieved. "So there aren't plans to destroy this forest. Good."

"Nope, just a wandering snake. Fiona, by the way, amateur story collector."

"Huh?"

"My name. Since I figure we'll be close for a bit," Fiona replied.

"Right, sorry. I'm David… just a fox." Something piqued his curiosity. "What do you mean, story collector?"

Fiona's eyes gleamed. "I'm glad you asked! After all, it's the reason I'm even in this thing! Lay back, let me elucidate." David did so, shimmying back against several lengths of her scaly body. His paws found a convenient gap to tuck into, and then the snake continued:

"Nearly since I hatched, I loved hearing about stuff other people did - incredible sights my siblings saw, improbable battles, tales of creatures I never even thought could exist! I did what I could to remember them and retell them for my younger siblings, or those who simply weren't there to hear at the time."

A comforting pressure crept up David's ankles. "That… if you don't mind me saying, that sounds pretty normal so far."

"It was! But eventually, I realized that different creatures and people have different life stories to tell, and I'd get comparatively nowhere just by staying around where I grew up." Fiona's head drifted from one side of the tire to the other, and David's gaze followed.

"So you decided to travel and found the tire?"

The snake laughed. "Oh, no, this was only a few months ago. I started by just slithering around." As though demonstrating, her entire body shifted and undulated against itself, covering more of David's body; he thought perhaps he ought to be concerned, but he wanted to hear Fiona tell her story. "But I did decide to travel! Forests, villages, a couple streams, so many different people with so many life stories to tell. A recent favorite of mine is a bunny girl whose life story was the time she scammed a human out of two entire caskets of wi- oop, shush!"

With a blur of movement, Fiona's coils covered David completely; he was about to shout and try to free himself when, instead, he heard very familiar footsteps. Hidden so completely by the snake's body, it was only his ears that truly picked up the person he was trying so hard to avoid. Raggedy breathing, the slam of paws on rubber, and a low growl; the fox could only pray that Fiona was the only one visible. After far too much time to be comfortable, the breathing grew quieter, as did angry, heavy footsteps.

Finally, a few lengths of her scaly body parted, letting him see again. In front of him was a smiling snake, yellow eyes bright and mirthful, clearly trying her best not to laugh. Looking at her, he found it tempting to join in - but wouldn't dare having just escaped disaster. Once again, Fiona was the first to speak, in a hissing whisper, "his entire head was bright pink!"

David grinned back and nodded. "Yeah, we're not exactly friends. Now, I wouldn't kill him, but I don't know if he'd extend the same courtesy."

"Clearly. Oh, speaking of which, would you like to know why I said the bunny thing was her life story, even though it was just a day? I've got two reasons."

The fox hummed. "Is one of them philosophical, like it's a representation of their personality in just one story?"

Fiona giggled, bringing a smile to David's muzzle. "Kind of! It's more that they're all unique, at least in how they're told if not what actually happens in there. Like lives! I like your idea, though."

In spite of himself, David felt himself blush at the compliment; he told himself it was just because he was laying down that his face grew so easily hot. "Thanks, Fiona. You said two, though? What's the second?"

"I'm glad you asked!"

The serpentine smile before him vanished, instead transforming into a wide, fleshy maw, glistening with drool. David tried to pull back, but of course, her body was all around him, and there was nothing he could do as pink filled his vision, then black, as she swallowed his muzzle and head in just a few gulps. The fox tried his best to push her off, but not only did her scaly body keep his from moving too much, it even tightened when he struggled! With her throat holding his mouth closed, the closest he could manage to a cry for help was a frantic moan, one muffled by her jaws and the tire. Of course, even without it, the two of them had put so much effort into being unheard that David was certain nobody around would have been able to hear him, anyway.

Around his shoulders, the heat and wetness of Fiona's mouth replaced her cooler, dry scales. When David focused - and he tried not to - he felt her throat expand and contract, allowing her to work her way down his body. His chest and midsection were next to go, leaving his arms pinned only by her gullet, rather than her coils, not that that was any help, as a few futile struggles soon proved. As she approached his waist, part of the fox was still in denial: surely she was far too thin a snake to fit him? Clearly, Fiona would have to give up eventually. But as a discomforting dampness and pressure slipped over his hips and down his thighs, that fantasy grew weaker and weaker.

With her maw at his knees, David found the pressure around his head lessen. The air grew more acrid, but her body wasn't as tight so deep. He tried shouting for help, just in case, right before her mouth closed after his paws, sealing his doom. From there, he could do little more than wait while her body squeezed the rest of his into her stomach. The fox's eyes stung, but no tears came. And then, with her throat clear once more, the snake addressed him once more.

"You're handling this well. Anyway, more practically, I call them life stories because they're given in exchange for life!" The pep in Fiona's voice carried a far more menacing quality from the inside of her stomach, David found. "So, mister "just a fox," unless you want to take care of my lunches for the next couple weeks, I can't wait to hear yours!"

[because-she-goes]

sparks

warnings: smut, piv, mdni, dirty talk, swearing, praise kink, mutual aftercare. Enjoy!

notes: big thanks to @byyourside28 for the help w/ this and giving some pointers lol

March 7th, 2015

“Dearest Downey,

I should start by saying the following: My heart has longed for you every second since I have left you for this tour. It hasn’t stopped begging and pleading with me to be near you. My skin has been burning to touch yours again, to feel your lips against my own. I am truly lonely for the first time probably ever, only knowing loneliness in the juvenile sense up until now, I have come to understand that I can not possibly exist without you in my life, Nora. It is currently about 4pm in Rome and it is bitterly cold, rainy and windy. A perfect picture of my emotional state, drowning without you. Two teenagers across from me are currently making out in the rain, totally oblivious to the rest of the world. Oh how I wish I could have you near me and do the same. The sound of rain and thunder fills the space around me. I am freezing cold, your personality normally being like a space heater in my life - oozing joy and warmth until everyone around you is doing the same. My cigarette has now gone soggy in the ashtray in front of me, wine glass I was sipping from now dotted with raindrops. Nora, you are the only thing in my life I well and truly miss at the moment - I miss waking up to you getting dressed, handing me a mug of tea, kissing my forehead and whispering an “I love you, Handsome” before breezing out the door to get to your studio leaving me breathless. Sometimes I think you are supernatural or otherworldly, something beyond the human capability to love and care for others. I can’t wait for those mornings again, my love. The notion that I may have them for infinity is a dizzying idea and I can only pray to whatever angel brought you to me that the idea becomes a reality. See you soon, my love.

All my love,

Handsome.”

Nora cried as she read the letter. She had only been officially dating Matty for a few months, but they were inseparable. Always talking, texting, calling or sending little pictures of their days - this was the first time they had properly been apart. She had read and reread the letter dozens of times by now, but each time it made her well up with tears. She missed him terribly, but luckily the tour had come to an end and he was already on the flight back to her in New York. Her heart fluttered at the idea of having him in her apartment again, his smell filling the rooms, flannels hanging in her closet, shoes by the door. She couldn’t wait. Admittedly, she was going a bit stir crazy and had been running around all day buying wine he liked, ingredients for his favorite dinner, fresh sheets and blankets and also lots of candles for her dining table where she set up a romantic dinner for two once he arrived. This was her first big night to impress him as his girlfriend and she was buzzing.

Speaking of buzzing, her phone vibrated on the counter as she sipped some water hoping to calm her nerves.

“Let me up, Angel. - Handsome xx”

Her throat letting out a mix between a squeal and scream, she ran then calmly walked to her door - not wanting to seem too eager to hold him, kiss him, have him again. Her beautiful dress flowed behind her, the purple hue complimenting her skin and hair wonderfully. Within milliseconds of the door being cracked open, his face illuminated and his arms wrapped around her waist pulling her further into the apartment, door left open haphazardly.

“Missed you, Honey.” He breathlessly admitted into her done up hair. His spicy woodsy scent absorbing her senses. God, she missed this. He pressed a kiss to her temple before taking her face in his hands and stepping back a bit to admire her.

A sparkle in her eye, “Missed you too, Handsome.” She goes to quickly close the door, not wanting any onlookers. On her return to him, another kiss to her mouth, sweet yet desperate. They each were trying to communicate all the unsaid things, how much they needed each other, how if the other was to actually go away they would break down, how they were the other person’s half. His lips moved languidly against hers, tongue swirling around hers, teeth gnashing together as things became more intense and heated.

“Dinner first, love.” She reminded him of their plan, once they separated for air. She ushered him over to the table, getting him a glass of the Malbec she had on ice. Getting the roast chicken and vegetables out of the oven and plating it delicately for him, she felt her body being watched. His eyes tracking her every move in fondness, he couldn’t believe she was his, that he had actually done it and gotten her. A calm, content exhale left his lungs as she walked over to him with the plates of food.

It was the best roast dinner he had ever tasted, perfectly cooked. Chicken was savory and not dried out, and the vegetables were lovely and a bit sweet. “Honey glazed!” He remembers her comment about them when she had texted him what she planned to make a few days ago. God, he could eat her cooking for the rest of his life.

Once dinner had been eaten and her famous lemon cake served, they had found their way into the bedroom. He was laying in bed in his boxers and not much else, she however was getting ready in the en suite. He could see her reflection in the mirror from where he was, now able to fully take her in and how wonderful she looked even without makeup, after cooking for god knows how long and running errands all day. Her jawline sharp enough to cut glass, bright cinnamon eyes twinkled in the lights, cheeks flushed with a rosy-peach hue when she caught him staring at her. Closing the door, wanting to keep her surprise hidden. She slipped out of her dress and into the red silk bra and panties set her friend had helped her purchase a few weeks ago when he finally sent her the information about his flight home. The red bow resting between her cleavage, she straightened it nervously one last time before stepping out.

When he sees her, Matty’s heart drops to his stomach, his brain clears, and all the blood rushing down his body. “Oh fuck.” He mutters, jaw hanging open.

She was unreal—a dream.

“All for me, princess?” He asks as she stands at the foot of their bed. She pulls a knee up to the mattress and crawls up to her side of the bed, and she nods victoriously at his flabbergasted state.

The ‘M’ necklace he had gotten for her for Valentine's Day that year was hanging from her neck, the gold catching the soft mood lighting of their room. “Downey you are-“

“I know, trust me, I know.” She laughs next to him. “Before we start, I just want to clarify it to you. Matty, I want you. Forever and ever. This separation has only made me realize just how deeply I need you like a fire needs gasoline to ignite. Like the ocean needs the moon for the tides.” She confesses, still slightly nervous about revealing all of this to him.

He sighs, his head dropping back as her words overwhelm him like a wave. “Oh darling, I’ve felt that way every minute since I first looked into your eyes” The butterflies in her stomach were now running rampant.

“Fuck, Matty… I need you.” Her eyes are now as dark as his hair, lips flushed from nervously biting them.

“Downey, I’m yours.” He whispers, his voice thick with emotion, and his hand reaches up to cup her cheek and kisses her hungrily.

His hips followed and landed above hers, enveloping her. Her eyes close, wanting to freeze the moment and kiss him forever. Her skin was smooth and warm against his, the scent of her coffee and vanilla perfume surrounding him.

His hand finds her hip, and he shutters at the feel of the silk gliding against his touch. “Can I take these off of you, love?” His voice is delicate and sincere, yet full of hunger. He takes a moment to admire how his hand looks against the red silk, veins and knuckles creating rough angles against the smooth texture of the silk. His pale complexion creating a beautiful contrast against the deep red hue.

“Yes, Matty. Please take yours off too. Wanna feel you.” She whimpers under him, the heat growing with every waking moment between her thighs.

He takes off his boxers and then quickly works on the lingerie, whispering sweet nothings in her ear to reassure her that she is a goddess to him.

His hand moves to the apex of her thighs, feeling her eagerness. “So good for me, Angel. Always so ready.” He groans as his fingertips draw tight tiny circles on her clit. “Want me, Nor? I’ve been dreaming of this since I left.”

“Yes, Matt, please.” She begs, “W-Want you to fill m-me up so good!” Her hips came off the mattress as her back arches. He lines himself up with her and slowly makes his way in - eyes searching hers for any pain or discomfort, taking things at her pace. So he doesn’t overwhelm her.

“Oh fuck, I’ve missed you!” Matty moans as he bottoms out, feeling his hips meet her thighs. “Ready for me to move?”

“Matt, move for me, please. Need it. Need you.” She groans, feeling full as her hips grind against him, aching for any type of friction. He first moves cautiously, then once he sees the pleasure in her face grow, he throws all the caution to the wind.

Now, at a steady pace, Matty feels her clenching around him. His breath caught in his throat at the erotic sounds of their centers colliding.

“Feel so good, baby. So, fucking perfect. Like you were made for me, Nor.” He praises her sweetly as her eyes roll back and her hips buckle. His hand reaches between them and pinches her nipple with his thumb and forefinger—the way he knows she likes.

“Fuck, Handsome! God, you are gonna make me cum so quick if you keep at that.” She warns.

“Yeah, Nora? Gonna cum for me baby?” He taunts, “You sound so pretty talking so filthy. Love it.” He groans as his climax grows with each thrust. His stomach tightened with each whimper and moan that fell from her lips.

“Oh fuck, Matthew– I’m gonna fucking cum any second if you start with that cocky shit.” She moans. Her body was writhing in pleasure, her skin now covered with a thin layer of sweat. She said his name like it was a sacred hymn.

“Thats it, Nora! Cum for me, angel. Wanna feel you cum on me.” He said hers like it was gospel scripture.

“God, Yes! Feels so good Matthew!!” Her body shutters as her orgasm gripped him. She clenched around him as her walls tightened like a warm glove.

He closed his eyes, savoring each and every feeling he felt as his body reacted to hers. He lost himself within himself as her body became a part of his, physically and emotionally.

He rolls back onto his side, both panting next to each other and trying to catch their breaths. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Nora.” He whispers into the air, truth spilling out of him.

“Matthew, I’m never gonna love anyone else.” She replies, breath still shaky.

Once they’ve relaxed, he goes to the little mini fridge she keeps in the room and grabs water and granola bars. He hands her the snacks and gets a warm wet washcloth from the bathroom.

“Gotta clean you, baby okay? I’ll be quick, and then we can get you some nice warm pajamas.” She gives him a loving nod, this being her favorite part of spending nights with Matty. This caring side of him comes out after, suddenly, his demeanor goes from stiff and rough to soft and sweet.

He takes the cloth and cleans up any mess. He gently kisses her knee for reassurance and hands her a clean, cotton pair of white underwear. Her comfort and relaxation came first in his mind. He then gives her a pair of his sweatpants she likes, and an oversized tee shirt. He even goes as far as brushing her hair back into a loose bun, placing another kiss along her hairline. She munches sleepily on the granola and finishes the water bottle.

“Thank You, Handsome. Too sweet to me.” A yawn leaves her body. “And you’re okay? Want me to grab the essential oils you like?” Her eyes looked to his, sensing the shift in his brain chemistry that could happen to either of them.

“Yeah actually, that’d be lovely.” She sits up, leaning over to reach into her bedside table and fishes around for the small bottle. She placed some oil on her wrists, then delicately took his wrist and did the same. She kisses his hands as she does so.

“Goodnight, Matthew. Sweet dreams, it's good to have you finally home.” She whispers as her head hits the pillow, her eyes closing softly as her breaths even out.

“Couldn't agree more, Nora. Good to be home.” He says as he also falls asleep, arm resting over her waist. He sighs contentedly. He could die happy knowing he had Nora in his life, that he had been blessed by her presence.

[kassymalone]

Allow me to share with you, dear reader, a story of what happened today. There is no lesson to be learned in this story, no deeper parable: it is merely a snapshot of a moment in time.

So Manchester City (the football team, not the city) has won the treble (which seems to be a big deal if you’re into football), so naturally this is cause for Manchester city (the city, not the team) to celebrate.

On Friday some representatives from the business improvement district came by to warn us that if City won the treble, there’d be a parade that went right by our shop. Today, that parade happened.

It was a nice day. Even on the way to work this morning, they were starting to close off the roads in the city centre. At lunch time it was 31 degrees, an absolute anomaly in the north of England, with a powder blue sky and next to no breeze.

At around 2pm they started.

The vuvuzelas.

If you’re lucky enough to never have heard a vuvuzela (and you are lucky), imagine if someone made a goose out of cheap plastic, somehow turned the volume up ten times louder than you thought possible from such a little thing, and then gave it to a small child.

HONK, HONK, HONK-HONK-HONK, HONK-HONK-HONK-HONK, HONK-HONK. If you know the song you know it. The parade wasn’t due to start until 6.30pm, but around 2pm it started.  

The workers rolled the security fences out around 3pm, closing the road directly in front of our shop. Luckily we had already made the target for the day, because our business tanked after that. Not for lack of people - the people were gathering all along the road, staking out good places.

Fast forward to 5pm. The honking in unbearable, I have to close the doors just to hear the person next to me speak. We’re packing up early because of how quiet it’s become. Outside, a sea of powder blue (the teams official colour) is lining the street, the shirts looking like they drained the colour straight from the sky. Horns are honking, people are yelling.

I look to the doors. A child has climbed a lamp post, and is sat quite happily on the crossbar. I look away. When I look back, a couple of hefty young men have climbed another lamp post. The third time I look, they’re all shirtless. The street is getting busier and busier, the door to our shop is blocked by people.

At this point, the light is changing. All the shirts that took the blue sky left an angry slate grey in its place. The temperature drops rapidly. Horns are honking, people are yelling.

Thunder rumbles.

The sky opens.

The entire crowd cheers.

Not a single person moves from the spot they’d been staking out for hours. They cheer, chant, and jump in place, but they don’t move as hail the size of marbles rains down from above.

Finally, we closed. In the time it took me to cash up the tills, I managed to miss the actual parade.

“They weren’t wearing any shirts!” the young Indian girl working with me gasped “And it was raining! They’re going to get sick!”

What else would you do, stuck on a parade float in a thunder storm because people have been waiting literal hours to celebrate you? Might as well give them a show.

It was still raining when I locked the door, and that was long enough for me to get completely soaked. The parade was gone, and everyone else is leaving too - the die-hard fans following the parade route, everyone else ducking through back alleys and side roads. A blue river of people flowing towards the buses, trains and trams, squealing and splashing through the rain and cold, wet puddles, the kind of wet you forget exists until the next time it thunders.

The bus is so busy I seriously consider just walking home. Its an hour walk, in a thunderstorm, but I think about it. By the time I reach my stop the heat is starting to return, and the petrichor is almost suffocating. Students crowd in their doorways smoking, dressed in bikini tops and shorts and talking about Amsterdam. 

I finally open the door and a ginger cat screams at me. Some normality at last.

[miras-ash]

Chapter 16 of "Just as the stars love the night"

Mira's pov

She is beautiful. That was the first thing that went through my mind when I first saw this little creature. On her head she already had dark red hair and her eyes shone bright green, she was the perfect image of her mother.

I looked at both of them and knew immediately that I was home, this was my family, my fortress and I would defend it with my life. Never again should they be wronged or harmed, I swore to myself.

"She's really there. She really exists." Liz's voice sounded wooden almost as if she was in a state of shock, only her smile assured me that it was okay. No one said anything for quite a while, it was like we were in our own little bubble sealed off from the outside world and only when my arms started to go numb because I was still holding Eliza I woke up from this kind of trance. With Doc's help we put her down on the couch and then started to clean Eliza as best we could. I looked around, her clothes were definitely ruined, she couldn't wear them anymore so I had no choice but to find something new. Since Gustave was still busy examining the two anyway, I left the cabin on my way to our friends and colleagues. Maybe someone had something to give away.

The first person I met was none other than Yumiko, sitting on one of the couches across from the stairs leading down. She jumped up, her eyes widened when she saw me after all I looked like after a visit to the slaughterhouse, my clothes and hands were covered in blood.

"Mira tell me she's still alive!"

Yumiko was already about to rush past me but I held her tight.

"Yes, she's still alive. She and the baby are probably up for now, we just have to make sure we get there soon."

She breathed a sigh of relief and then said "Thank God, I couldn't think of anything else. I was so scared and if something had happened to her and I wasn't by her side, I never would have been able to forgive myself."

She spoke from my soul, luckily we had Doc, without him this all could have ended very differently.

"Say, you didn't happen to have time to bring a change of clothes did you?"

Hibana shook her head but thought about it for a moment before happily announcing "I didn't but I'm sure Jordan won't mind if we borrow his hoddie, he's always wearing something underneath anyway and I'm sure someone has something else, let's go ask quickly."

Together we entered the passenger area of the plane. My sudden presence and appearance had a similar reaction to Yumiko's in most people, everywhere only worried or partly confused faces. No one said anything, they seemed to be waiting to see if and what I had to say.

"Ash gave birth to a healthy baby girl a few minutes ago, she is doing okay according to the circumstances. Doc is taking care of her right now" I announced in a loud voice and immediately thunderous applause broke out. Congratulations were shouted at me, some colleagues with whom I was somewhat closer friends came up to me, patted me on the shoulder or even hugged me. After everything had calmed down, most of them sat down again, still looking at me. I took this opportunity to ask "Does anyone have any clothes to donate? It should be noted that they could probably come into contact with blood and such."

Against my expectations, I was given a large selection to choose from, everyone wanted to help, which really touched me. We didn't always agree and there were many arguments but at the end of the day we were all one big family.

A short time later together with Yumiko, I returned to Eliza who was still sitting on the sofa. Her eyelids half closed, she lifted her head slightly to look at who was coming in. A faint smile twitched at the corner of her mouth as she caught sight of the two of us, then her eyelids fluttered again and her head fell to her chest. Before I could panic, Gustave intervened.

"She's just tired and light headed. I gave her strong painkillers after she had nursed your daughter before. She will probably sleep through the whole flight now, she resisted until just now because she didn't want to worry you. Impressive when you consider that the dosage will knock out even a real heavyweight in minutes."

Relieved I walked up to her and with Yumiko's help, I dressed her. If the situation hadn't been so serious, we probably would have laughed. She looked really silly with the way too big sweater that looked like a dress on her and the oversized wool socks. I still undid her disheveled braid and then laid her down properly.

Doc handed me the little bundle, the first time I held her in my arms.

I was worried the last few months that I couldn't even look at the child or worse would hate her but that wasn't the case. She wasn't responsible for this situation.

Afraid of dropping her, I sat down on the floor, bent my legs to support my arms as well. Yumiko settled down next to me and gently stroked the little one's head.

"She looks like Lizzie. If she has her character too, you'll have a lot of fun."

She was right about that, two redheaded monsters driving me crazy, my life was definitely not going to be boring.

It's crazy how things turn out sometimes. Just a few years ago I thought Eliza was a conceited and an  absolutely arrogant princess to put it in Kali's words. She was nothing more than a colleague, actually more of a rival. And today she is my soul mate, my love, my life and now also the mother of our child.

[zenki-soukokq]

hi! so i wanted to ask if i can request a genshin impact matchup, but if not then it’s okay! (also i’m very sorry for my bad english, i hope you’ll understand me but if not then please delete this whole request!)

name= Em! (she/her)

physical description= i hope i understand what you mean. I have short brown hair, very skinny (also🚪), and everyone says i’m very pale. my height is 163 cm so i’m not that tall. i heard that i look very sick many times but .. i don’t really care. Also i’m not attractive at all, quite the opposite actually.

internal description=i am very paranoid. I get annoyed kinda easily but i still try to keep calm (i’m pretty calm most of the time). i’m trying to be kind to others but sometimes it’s almost impossible. but yes others tell me i’m actually nice! i’m also caring, i need to make sure my favorite people are actually okay all the time (it gets annoying sometimes- to them.)

hobbies etc.= to be completely honest, i don’t have many hobbies. i love taking long walks in the night. also watching horror movies and playing horror games, but i doubt this counts as hobbies. oh and i think i should say i was diagnosed with bpd. also my mbti is ISTP.

random info= you know how i said i love horror games/movies ? that’s where my paranoia comes from. i get scared so easily but i just can’t stop lol. also i absolutely love physical touch, i’m touch starved.

hm i think that’s all? sorry if this request is really bad. have a good day/night and take care of yourself :)<3

(I decided to leave it fairly ambiguous on whether or not this is a romantic or a platonic relationship, since you didn't specify. I hope that was okay with you!)

You have been matched up with...Raiden Shogun!

The Raiden Shogun is the awesome and terrible power of thunder incarnate, the exalted ruler of the Inazuma Shogunate. With the might of lightning at her disposal, she commits herself to the solitary pursuit of eternity.

How you two met:

Many would think that Her Excellency, the Raiden Shogun, would have every one of her bases covered. Known only to a few, she really doesn't. Due to this, Yae decided to pick one of the Shogun's subordinates to be a personal assistant to her. Luckily, they found someone perfect for the job- you.

At one point, you were just a normal worker within the vast expanse of the Raiden Shogun's subordinates, until this day

You had been given new instructions, a new uniform, and even a new housing unit for this job

Never before did you think that you would be the Shogun's personal assistant, but here you are now, outside of her door, waiting for permission to enter

Before long, you hear a clear indication for you to come in, and you make your way into the room carefully

You were shocked though, when you heard Yae Miko lecturing the archon

Raiden seemed to be sitting on the floor defiantly, as Yae looked down at her, disappointment riddling her face

You stood there, in confusion, until the sulking archon acknowledged your existence

You were called over, and you made your way over tentatively, still confused about what was going on

Yae explained the basics of your job: watch over Raiden, and take care of her basic needs

You looked down at the archon who was now staring back up at you, and you gulped as you imagined what your job had in store for you

A couple of somewhat extraneous weeks passed by at your unorthodox job, and you had gotten used to your occupation. Now, you had much more of an understanding of the Shogun, and had even developed a relationship with her that most may call close. Today, though, she had something rather interesting to assign to you.

For some reason, she had demanded your presence quite early in the morning, and when you approached her, she had quite the serious expression on her face

As she turned to face you, you could see it more clearly

Not only was there seriousness present on her expression, there was hints of sorrow, and a little bit of what seemed to be regret

With a voice that could only be described as guilty, she quietly asked you a question, that you could not hear at first

When she repeated it though, the question you heard was quite a shock

The Shogun had asked if you were willing to listen to her, and if you were willing to 'hear her sorrow'

At first, you were surprised, and asked further on what this meant

Instead of simply telling you that you shouldn't question her, she instead provided the simple explanation of, 'You are part of my goal of eternity. It is necessary for you to know of the nature of this eternity.'

After this, she began to explain how she came to make the choices she did, and how she had eventually developed into the person she was now

She was incredibly grateful for you listening to her over the course of the day, and from that point onward, the Shogun knew that you and her were conjoined together, by positive will

"I must thank you, for all you have done for me. From menial tasks to bearing my weight on your shoulders, you have done much at my command, and more on your own will. With my entire will, I must say; thank you, Em."

Why you two are compatible:

The Raiden Shogun is a firm believer of what she believes to be eternity — a place in which everything is kept the same, regardless of what goes on. She is honorable in her conduct and is revered by the people of Inazuma.

I partially curse myself for not really being good at explaining things, because there's a sort of chemistry that I can imagine between the two of you, but only in vague mental gestures

I think that the best way to describe your compatibility would be a painting, one that goes through multiple steps before it reaches completion

At first, some of the colors and choices seem almost entirely nonsensical, but as the painting develops, the choices make more and more sense, until the finished piece reveals the masterpiece behind all of the work

Your relationship with Raiden would start out incredibly unorthodox, but as time went on, the pieces would start to fall into place, until your relationship had bloomed into a wonder of mutual appreciation

Another analogy to describe the relationship would be like a garden of random flowers

Over time, the flowers will grow, despite whatever differing circumstances they may require

They will grow, and may one day end up producing something new, or simply coexisting in ephemeral beauty

Relationship Headcanons:

A lot of the relationship probably consists of just existing in the same room as each other

Whether it be entirely coincidental, or purposeful, it's almost the prime way that the two of you bond

A casual, yet quiet, way to be around each other is something that's likely completely unique to your relationship

Aside from that, you're most definitely a personal errand runner for her

I have the feeling that she often wouldn't want to do a lot of the smaller tasks herself, so she delegates them to you in exchange for (most of the time) whatever you want

Raiden would probably be quite reserved with you for a long time, regardless of releationship status

Despite that, she would show her appreciation for you the best she could

Whether it be small gifts that she occasionally has sent to you by a subordinate, or a small, short hug

You two often spend your time together doing a lot of what she needs to get done, although she does try to make time for you do to something you'd particularly enjoy

New Years Headcanons:

A new year was about to fall upon the nation of Inazuma, and its leader was all but prepared for this

Previously, she had never concerned herself with the matters of the new year, because she had never been involved with it

To the Shogun, the new year was but another drop of water in the trickling stream of time, a stream that she had not often paid attention to

This year, though, quite a bit of change had made its course through the nation, and through her as well

Because of this (and although she won't admit it, because of you), she finally decided to celebrate one year

It wasn't going to be anything very extravagant, because the Shogun still did not see the value in such ephemeral moments being celebrated so heavily

Later in the night, at a time that wasn't clearly discernable, she called for someone to bring you up to her room, as well as someone else to bring some desserts

When you had arrived, you saw multiple trays of desserts placed neatly on the table, and saw Raiden looking out over the balcony

At first, she was facing the sea, until she had turned around to see you

A faint smile passed through her expression, before melting into an unexpressive, yet calm, face

The two of you exchanged simple conversation over the delightful desserts that were now crumbs on the platters, when the Shogun suddenly stood up

She motioned for you to follow her, and she led the two of you out to the back balcony, which faced only the dark seas behind Inazuma

At first you asked her why you weren't facing the city, where all of the celebrations would be

Raiden was quiet for a few moments, before smiling slightly, and letting out a barely audible laugh

She turned her head up a little, and looked out directly into the vast seas

"The blanket of beautiful stars in the sky, reflected upon the glistening sea. This is a scene that so long as Inazuma exists, so shall it. It is a scene that so long as you hold it in your memories, you shall always be able to come back here, and see it once again. An eternal memory- so to say. I would prefer to always remember this scene with you, and I would hope that you would always remember me, too."

Afterword:

Well, that was quite the delay, I apologize. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.

[jroycethethird]

Wind howled against the window panes and the torrential rain beat down on it, fighting for dominance in who could aggressively abuse the glass more. Royce liked the sound of thunder clashing in the clouds, mixed with the rest of the elements barreling down on Lunar Cove that dreaded night. He could feel the electricity in the air, buzzing through his finger tips and along his arms. It had been the second of his witch abilities to manifest, the way to bend and manipulate electricity coming second to the maddening onslaught of hearing every thought and whim around him. The first he mastered, but the last he ever really used. When he’d felt that shift, along with the oncoming weather reports, he had been quick to tell his staff to take the night off, return to their homes and spend the remainder of the storm with their families. He promised they’d be paid for their normal hours and then some if the weather proved a deterrent the next day. He coined himself an incredibly selfish man, but he wanted his workers safe and happy. He could handle himself for a night.

And once fully alone, Royce did something he only did when he was completely free of the scrutinizing eyes of others — he took off his refined clothes, folded neatly and tucked away, and pulled out an Oxford Boat Club t-shirt and a pair of race car printed pajama pants which had been hidden in the farthest corner of his walk-in closet, and settled into his arm chair with a glass of wine in one hand and his most favorite cherished book, a beat up copy of The Little Prince, in the other. He was alone, no thoughts or disruptions outside of the weather beating down on his luxurious Celestial Hills home.

Or so he had thought.

The knock was a surprise, but it had turned pleasant when he saw who stood on the other side. Shivering, drenched through, she looked like a fragile thing but he knew better. She was formidable and strong, but clearly in need of a distraction. “Come sit by the fire,” he’d said as she dripped in the foyer. “Let’s get you warmed up.” Well placed comments about how drenched clothes would do her no good, and that perhaps they should get close and let their body heat mingle, gave way to the inevitable entanglement they found themselves in. The crackle and pop of the fire roaring in the fireplace, second in volume to the noises she made. It was a pleasant way to spend a stormed in evening, a better plan than his original, but all good plans it seemed would be ruined as the night progressed. Royce hadn’t a single clue what was happening when her hands clamped down over his ears suddenly, her wail heard but luckily not harming. He still winced against the volume of it before leaning his forehead against her collarbone. She had released his ears and spoke, and he pressed kisses up her neck in response. “Sounds like a ‘them’ problem,” he murmured, not ready to let the reality of her ominous words sink in. People died all the time, he reasoned, why should that stop their fun? His lips trailed to her ear, brushing gently against her skin as he spoke. “Bunny,” he sighed, “You came here for a distraction didn’t you… Let me distract you.” Taking a gentle hold of her chin, Royce turned Aiyla’s face to his and captured her lips in a slow and deep kiss.

Nothing should ruin their fun… until something did.

With a strong arm winding around her slender waist, he had every intention to lay her down on the plush rug before his fire place, but Royce felt something odd. His breath hitched slightly as he felt the ever present hum of static electricity slowly but surely leave his skin, her thoughts faint muffled words he couldn’t decipher as he felt a strange almost empty feeling sink in. Beneath his skin, below the muscle and sinew and beyond the bones into whatever remnant of a soul existed within him he felt he always burned with magic. But that fire that was within was being choked, barely flickering. Royce’s arms shook and the fluid motion of which he was rolling them over became awkward and jilted as reared back into an upright seated position with Aiyla still locked on his nap. His lips had left her as he blinked and shook his head, trying to make sense of the draining haze within him. Something happened. Something happened in the coven. He could hear then the buzzing of his phone on the coffee table he’d shoved back against the wall, the incessant vrrb vrrb of someone desperately trying to reach him. He ignored it, blinking up dark eyes at the woman above him. “Some… Something’s not quite right,” he mumbled, and with a great amount of hesitation he began to untangle their limbs. He couldn’t quite rise to his feet, a mess of wobbly knees and odd feeling limbs as he did so, catching himself on the table and grabbing his phone. One missed call from Kathryn Van Doren. He blinked at the screen, registering a second later that his younger sister had tried to reach him. But why… Something is happening in the coven. Royce let out a groan, running his hand through his already mussed up dark hair as he called her back. “Kathy. I missed your call,” left him in a low murmur when the call was picked up.

“You felt it too then,” was Kathy’s hazy response, her stern vocal fry softened at the edges. An exhale was the telling sign she was smoking, and likely in the foyer. Father would be so angry. “Tripp, we need you to come to the big house, and quick.” He blinked, hearing a commotion in the background as Kathy sighed into the receiver. “It’s mother… she’s fainted.” Ah. Ever the dramatic. He registered then Cecile’s high pitched wails of panic in the background. “Cec is going absolutely mad, someone needs to slap some sense into her and it ought not to be me. Oh — and father’s unreachable, naturally… say, did someone do more dark magic? Are we doomed, twice over?”

Royce pawed at the half filled wine glass he’d abandoned in favor of Aiyla’s sudden visit, taking a sip before offering it to the fae queen. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” he finally said, soft and even toned despite his knees wobbling. He braced a hand on the coffee table as he barely stood upright. “Listen, Kath, I’ll be there soon, just have to navigate this storm. In the mean time, make sure Blythe is as comfortable as she can be, find the smelling salts, give Cec a task—”

“I told her to put a pail outside and to collect the rain water to rouse mother awake with,”

“…Diabolical, but don’t douse your mother with rain water. She’ll never forgive the mess you’ll make of her hair. I’ll be there soon, and I’ll take care of her. Do try and get in contact with the old man. I suspect you can find him if you give Sinners a ring.” He hung up before hearing the undignified snort Kathy released, and twisted back toward his guest. A groan left Royce at the realization that their evening was shot, positively ruined by whatever was happening now. Sliding down to his knees, he crouched and slumped back toward her. “Something is happening with my magic,” he flexed his long fingers, expecting a crackle of electricity but feeling barely a buzz. “This usually means something happened in the coven. A separation of a member, dark magic…” He didn’t voice the other thing, her scream was a similar signifier but he wasn’t ready to count the other two out. He probably should be calling Poppy. He didn’t pick up his phone again.

After a contemplative moment, the man grunted and got back to his feet, gathering up their discarded clothes and placing them in a somewhat dripping heap on the table. He’d have to go get dressed in acceptable wear if he was going to Verdant Vale Hall at this hour — not hot wheels pajama pants, which he’d never be caught dead wearing outside of nights such as these when one was meant to be totally and completely alone. Turning back to Aiyla, he offered up both his hands, palm upwards. “You get two options,” he started, lifting his right hand and nodding his head as he continued, “Option one, the far better option, perhaps the only right one, is you stay here, stay dry and warm, and wait for me to come back. Read a book, raid my fridge, curl up in my bed, take a hot bath, I don’t care what you do, just relax and enjoy yourself until I return… Then option two…” Royce frowned dramatically and shook his head as he lifted his left hand, the clear bad of the choices he was giving her, “You venture out into this storm with me… and come with me to my family’s home…” His tone softened, as did his eyes, just a smidge as he added, “My stepmother and sisters are alone and they don’t appear to be doing well… I need to check in on them, make sure they’re okay.” Make sure Blythe truly just fainted, and nothing worse. How grateful he was to be the telepath in the room, that she couldn’t hear his thoughts. “…But you should choose option one, get all cozy and take a fluffy bathrobe from my guest bathroom, have some wine, while you wait for me to return… then we can resume what we’d been doing before the powers that be so rudely interrupted us.”

ROYCE & AIYLA - full moon May 23rd, 2024 @jroycethethird

Lunatic, moonstruck…a siren song, and a wolfs howl, that was the expectations on nights like this. Once a month when, the moon phase reminded all of Lunar Cove that they were bound by something greater than them, for better or worse. The pull of alertness had Aiyla coming in and out from the storm like a restless ghost haunting the streets of Lunar Cove. She could not settle, she could not rest. Her mind was driven to the maddening alertness the full moon brought, fretful alertness took control on nights like this. Wondering the streets in thick sheets of rain, she was looking for something a miss when she realized her wondering had led her to the door of someone who could ease her mind, if only for a while.

He had found her shivering, curls sticking to her cheeks and bare shoulders as she shivered outside his front door. She did not ask to come in only gave him a knowing look as she thought of what she needed before he invited her to warm by the fire, a promise of warmth and distraction she was grateful to accept.

Time had passed, warming by the fire, tangled limbs and an easement of her mind. The night was moving onward, the end in sight. Aiyla had said something in French, the words lost on her now. Before him when the telling build of an incoming warning climbed up her throat. Her features were stricken into the face of panic and fear. The urge to scream filled her chest. She wanted to warn him, to say his name, to untangle herself from where they were positioned, but time had not been in their favor. Aiyla quickly pressed her hands over his ears and threw her head back with a harrowing wail she controlled to keep from shattering his ear drums or worse. She released her hands from his ears, "Someone may be dead..." She furrowed her brows; death sometimes came naturally. It could mean nothing, it could be nothing. She hoped it was nothing.

[cheesiedomino]

3racha Reacting to/Comforting You When You’re Afraid of Thunderstorms

genre: established relationship, Bang Chan x gn!reader, Changbin x gn!reader, Han x gn!reader

wc: 1.9k 

tags/warnings: pure fluff so fluffy, mention of reader crying (only for a short moment)

{a/n: this was requested by @sunnyskiezzzz, thanks for the request and i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it. any feedback is much appreciated, take care & stay safe! ^.^}

{Bang Chan}

It was a gloomy day outside, the streets were empty, and it looked like a ghost town. You were currently folding your laundry while trying to pay attention to this kdrama. You look out the kitchen window again and saw how much darker the sky was getting. You decide to close your windows assuming that it’ll probably rain pretty bad soon. You enjoyed rainy days, however, you hated thunderstorms and you were hoping that today wouldn’t be that day. You were home alone and your boyfriend Chan was at the studio doing his usual work. You tried not to think about missing him so much as you don’t want to bother him. You really wanted to feel independent so you didn’t text him to try and keep you company. You heard the heavy downpour of the rain from outside, feeling a bit relaxed by the rain sounds. You continued doing your task and begin pondering what you should make for dinner. All of a sudden your thoughts are intruded by the sound you hated the most. Thunder. You were now scared shitless and wanted to crawl up into a ball immediately. You look around your house and realize how dark it was in here. You attempt to try and turn your lamp on in the living room but to no avail, it didn’t turn back on, you tried your kitchen light, but that didn’t work either. You were now even more terrified than you already were, it was still faintly light outside but the sun was definitely going to set soon. You now had to resort to the last option you’ve been trying to avoid all day, texting your boyfriend. As you’re typing your message out you hear the door handle click and the door swings open. It was Chan. You were so confused yet so relieved to see him you didn’t even question it you just run to him and hug him tightly. 

“Oh thank God you’re here,” You say to him as your face is huddled up in his chest.

“You okay baby?” He asks, his tone sounding concerned.

“N-no not really,” You say, soon as you said that another loud crash of thunder startles you again making you squeal at the noise.

“So I guess my intuition was right when I decided to wanna leave the studio early,” He says as he’s patting your head trying to calm you down.

“I think the power went out and I just got so scared here all by myself, I was about to text you to come back home.” You say to him.

“Well luckily you didn’t have to do that, I’m here now to keep you safe, darling.” He brings you over to the couch where you cuddle with him. 

“Give me one second baby,” Chan says as he gets up quickly to go get something. He soon comes back with two candles and lights one in the kitchen and another in the living room.

“This should help us out momentarily.” 

He grabs more blankets and starts rearranging the furniture around, you are just looking at him with a puzzled look on your face, wondering what he’s up to. He ended up making a small fort out of all the blankets and added some pillows inside. It wasn’t too shabby looking and he invited you to come and join him inside. You crawled in and sat beside him, your head lye on his shoulder. His scent was intoxicating, you wanted to be closer to him than you already were at this moment. You both continued watching the kdrama and cuddling in the blanket fort as you were waiting for the storm to pass and the power to turn back on. You felt so safe with him and you weren’t paying much attention to thunder sounds anymore. It’s like when he’s with you the rest of the world just stops and doesn’t exist anymore. ‘So much for independence’, you think to yourself.

{Changbin}

The smell of the rain consumes the air as you walk out of the car. You and your boyfriend Changbin made it back just in time before the thunderstorm began and for once you praised him for his fast driving since you hated thunderstorms with a passion. You grabbed a couple of the grocery bags while Changbin grabbed the rest and you both went inside. You were on a trip with Changbin for the weekend and were staying at his family beach house. You loved the view you had from there but today was such a depressing rainy day compared to the nice and sunny day you had with him yesterday. 

“Want to put on a movie while I cook us dinner honey?” Changbin asks you. He was so excited to finally cook for you and you were all for it but you didn’t want to be far away from him at this moment. 

“Can we wait baby? I want you close to me right now” You say looking away from him, not trying to sound too needy.

“Yeah sure honey, you okay?” Looking over at you as he’s putting the groceries in the refrigerator. The loud strike of thunder appears. It sounds so menacing to you, the ground began to shake. You jump up from the couch as you heard the bushes and trees rattling, startled by any sound from outside at this point. You wanted to cry.

Changbin runs to you from the kitchen immediately to put his arm around you. 

“Are you scared of the thunder?” He asks.

You simply just nod your head, looking away trying not to embarrass yourself even more than you already have. You feel so silly for even being scared of something like this.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of if that’s what you’re thinking right now,” He says to you as if he’s reading your mind. You just put your head into his chest and start sobbing. The thunder only grew louder, putting you even more on edge. You’re wrapped in Changbin’s arms, his grip on you tight and his strong arms made you feel protected. 

“Please never let me go” You mumble to him.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing that y/n,” He says, rubbing your back trying his utmost best to get you to stop crying in his arms. 

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” He says, then all of a sudden an idea pops up in his brain. “How about we play a game?” He asks you out of nowhere.

“A game?” You say still hiding in his chest.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.. what kind of game?”

“21 questions,” He says confidently.

“But why? You already know everything about me Binnie” 

“I must not since I never knew you hated the sound of thunder that much,” he retorts “Just humor me this one time honey, pleasee” he makes a cute pout with his lips and you just want to grab his face and kiss it. 

“Okay” You agree to play the silly little game with your boyfriend.

He asks you the most random questions, ‘What was your most recent dream you had?’ ‘What was the name of the first pet you had?’ ‘Do you think bigfoot is real?’ and the weirdest one he asked you yet ‘If I became a zombie in the apocalypse would you become one too just for me?’ He has the most interesting way of getting your mind off things yet playing that game was actually successful at distracting you from the sound of the thunder.

“Okay, last question!” He says, “saved the best for last.”

You wonder how ridiculous this next question is about to be then he just asks, “Will you kiss me?”

You smile at what he said and immediately say “Duh!” you cup his face with your hand and lean in to kiss him gently. The rest of the night consisted of you kissing and cuddling, you completely forgetting about the thunderstorm, and him forgetting that he still has to make you both dinner tonight.

{Han} 

You were woken up by the blaring sound of thunder coming from outside this morning. You didn’t realize how long you’ve been sleeping and you looked around the king-sized bed to see Han with you but he was nowhere to be found. You started to feel even more anxious by this and at this point, you’re becoming frantic. The thunder was only getting worse and the strike of lightning made you scream subconsciously. You try to hide under the covers just hoping this was all a bad nightmare and that you’ll wake up with Han next to you. You hear the bedroom door burst open and your boyfriend says something,

“Is everything okay in here y/n?!” He says loudly, trying to talk over the heavy storm currently going on.

“Come here please,” You say to him quietly, not really sure if he’d even hear it since you were still underneath the covers. You feel hands coming over the covers and he peels them off of you.

“You finally woke up I see,” He says, “I could’ve sworn I heard you scream”

Your face becomes red, the embarrassment is now sinking in, you probably made him really worried by that.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” You say “I just got a little scared up here all alone”

You hear another loud rush of thunder and you flinch as Han tries to hug you.

“No seriously, what’s the matter?” He asks, making eye contact with you, you now have no choice but to come clean.

“I’m afraid of the thunder Han.”

“What’s so scary about some thunder? It’s not going to get you,” He chuckles, “if it does I’ll fight it”

“You’re going to fight the thunder?” You say, giggling a bit.

“Yeah, no one messes with my baby, I don’t care who or what it is!” He makes a fist towards the window, looking as if he’s trying to threaten the weather conditions that were happening out there. 

You couldn’t help but start laughing at that, even when you’re being serious he’ll still find a way to make light of the situation and keep you laughing. That’s what you’ve always loved about your boyfriend. 

“You are so cute.” You say to him.

“No that’s all you!” He says wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his warm embrace. He kisses your forehead and then kisses both of your cheeks. You smile at that and scrunch your nose at how cute he can be at times like these. He does whatever he can to try and get you to relax and it’s clearly working as you see the storm outside was beginning to clear up. 

“Look at that baby, it’s going away!” Han says to you as he points toward the window

You were glad that the storm had finally stopped and you were able to think clearly again, not feeling so restless anymore. The real reason you were so calm though was because you had Han there to comfort you. 

“Thanks for being here with me.” You say to your loving boyfriend.

“I’m always gonna be here, you’re practically stuck with me for life babe.” He says grinning like a maniac.

“That really doesn’t sound as bad as you’re making it out to be.” You wrap your arms around his neck and look into his eyes. You were now fully relaxed, fully present at the moment with him, you felt at ease. He was all you needed to calm down as if he were like a drug. 

You knew that Han was the perfect person for you and he has shown that through his actions every single day.

End<3

[1kook]

commercial break: eleven

this is a netflix & chill drabble <3

SUMMARY You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small.

WARNINGS sadness, vulnerabilities, insecurity, self confidence issues, an idea of “feeling ugly”, tw // mental breakdowns and feelings of regression, crying, jk doesn’t want anyone near, oc tries her best to comfort him

RATING e for everyone

WC 1.2k

NOTES i love the idea of jk being the perfect man, but I also want to show moments where he isn’t so perfect and where he’s not the mature man oc thinks he is… I love my boy so much 😭😭 also it’s 1am helloooooo ALSO it’s formatted ugly bc I’m posting this from my phone 😀 I’ll fix it tmrw promise

Jungkook hates to admit it, but some days are harder than others.

Some days, Jungkook wakes up with an uncomfortably stifling feeling in his chest, one that threatens to wiggle its way into the loneliest parts of his heart and find permanent residency. A drowsy one, makes him linger in bed well past his preferred wake up time, the blackout curtains in his room ensheathing him in a sea of darkness that his heart is adamant on replicating. But it’s worse than drowning, because his lungs are clear; it’s just that he doesn’t have the strength, the willpower to force another breath— he just wants to lay there and do nothing.

“Good morning,” he hears from beside him, and a different weight presses against his side. You’re warm in the morning, soft too. He likes how you feel, he always does. But not today. Today, he doesn’t know how he feels about the overwhelming presence at his side. You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small. “You sleep okay?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer. The words don’t catch in his throat, but in the recesses of his mind instead, overlapping and overflowing until it feels like tv static, fuzzy and blurry— confusing. You shift beside him, and his heart kicks up an anxious rhythm. It’s not the normal butterflies that beat their wings against the walls of his rib cage when you smile, nor is it the thundering gallops of a dozen horses when you touch him just so. It’s this nauseating, terrified feeling, one that screams at him to answer lest he upset you with his silence.

There’s a hand on his chest, and he doesn’t like how it feels right now, just another suffocating layer to add on, but even worse he doesn’t know how to tell you that.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to. It slinks away, but that warning bell in his head is going off anyway, makes him look over at you in panic, only to find you propped up on your elbow, inquisitive eyes focused on him. Your features are still soft, and Jungkook is pretty sure there’s traces of last night’s makeup clinging to your lash line. You’re so pretty— you always are. Jungkook can’t handle this right now. You’re too pretty, and Jungkook feels ugly. (Ah, so that was the feeling.) You can’t look at Jungkook when he’s ugly, you won’t want Jungkook when he’s ugly.

“Hey,” you say softly, gently. Jungkook’s heart aches. A pair of fingers brush along his cheekbones, drag through the wetness that escapes the corners of his eyes, trails down toward his ears—when had he started crying?—where you delicately tuck his hair back. “I’m gonna get started on breakfast,” you tell him, voice hushed, whispering. Jungkook is hanging onto every single word, feels like you’ll disintegrate before his very eyes if he isn’t careful. You can probably tell. “You don’t have to eat right now, but it’ll be down there if you want, okay?”

You move to get off the bed, scooting away from him, leaving him behind. He’s fine with it until he isn't, until your hand touches the door knob to his room and a shameful sniffle escapes him. Loud too, loud enough to make you turn back in surprise. And that alarmed look on your face is enough to make Jungkook want to hide, hurriedly rolling over onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow, arms clutching at the softness as he cries. You hurry back. He doesn’t want you to leave, but he doesn’t want you to see either. He doesn’t know what he wants.

“No,” he begs, turning the other way when your face comes up beside him, kneeling beside his side of the bed. “Don’t look at me— please.”

There’s a hand on his back, and Jungkook hates how much he loves it, hates how much he instinctively yearns to find comfort in you at a time like this. He was getting better, he’s been getting better. He swears he has; he has journals full of feelings to prove it, vulnerable text message threads with Namjoon to prove it.

But he won’t lie. The Valentine’s Day incident had left a bad taste in Jungkook’s mind, and these past few months have been hard. He feels like he’s regressing, like he’s back to being a teenager all over again. By itself, that knowledge sucks. Combined with the warm palm on his back and the loving voice calling his name— combined with the fact you've been watching Jungkook these past few months each and every time he’s woken up like this… it’s humiliating. “Don’t look,” he chokes out, each drag of your fingers through his hair sending a confused pang of emotions straight to his heart.

“Why can’t I look?” you ask quietly, toying with the strands of his hair. He sniffles. “What would I see?”

“Me,” Jungkook sobs, wishing the mattress would just up and swallow him.

You’re silent, a fact that Jungkook wishes he could appreciate had it not made the sounds of his anguish even more obvious. It makes him self-conscious, more than he already is, so he forces himself to quiet down. It doesn’t feel better, but it does let him hear your next words. “I like looking at you,” you tell him, and the bed dips down beside him. After a moment, you speak again. “Do you feel ugly today?”

Careful, calculated. Like he’s a ticking bomb and you don’t want him to blow. Briefly, he had explained it before, skirted around it in embarrassment as he talked about the way he felt. It had been months ago— maybe the weekend after Valentine’s —so he’s surprised you remember. Jungkook nods.

“Then I’ll wait,” you announce, and eventually he feels you settle in beside him. His head is still turned the other way, hiding shamefully, but he can feel your warm breath against his skin when you slowly cuddle in close. An arm wraps itself around his back. He doesn’t mind it this time— he just wants to be held now. “I’ll wait until you feel pretty again.”

Part of Jungkook wants to snap at you; he doesn’t want to feel pretty, he’s never felt pretty. Jungkook felt average at best, and on days where you stroked his ego, maybe even handsome. But pretty? That’s not something that’ll ever happen, and he doesn’t want you to waste your hopes on a possibility that does not exist.

But that’s mean, and he doesn’t want to chase you away, scare you away, even if he doesn’t want you to see him like this. So Jungkook shuts his mouth, stays still, tries to match the soft rise and fall of your chest against his side instead.

Some days he’s fine in a few minutes without a single tear shed. Other days are long. Other days are so painful and uncomfortable, he just wants to hide. He wants to climb into his shell and never come out, hide his ugliness from the world and never have to worry about being seen again.

You don’t lie to him, don’t feed him empty promises while you wait. You just lay silently at his side, pulling him closer when his sniffles get louder. You don’t say anything unnecessary and you never make it about yourself.

Lately his shell has grown bigger, wider, comfier. Big enough for someone else to squeeze in, hold him close when he doesn’t feel like himself.

He doesn’t hate it.

[penguinxturtle]

under starlit purpose

i have this idea plot/prompt for ayato x reader x thoma inspired by kdrama time travel romance plots (e.g. mr. queen and scarlet heart)🤪.

cw: slight mention of suicide

“she wanted to have a purpose, something to give her a reason to exist”

modern times y/n had everything she needed. successful in any aspect, especially in her job as a ceo. but only one thing she doesn't have time for: which is love. she thought she was contented with what she have. workaholic alongside with her trusted secretary, kamisato ayato which was little did she know he has one-sided feelings for her.

-

inazuman past life y/n is one of the kamisato servants. having a low social status, poverty-stricken. still, she does her best for her family. staying positive despite her hardships and financial issues. until one time her family that she loves the most was lost in a thunderous accident. an air of melancholy surrounded around her life.

-

until one time a change occur.

modern day y/n was driving to her work until she got in an accident (p.s. this is caused by a greedy antagonist, but im too lazy to put more details on it ehe) and was put in a long coma.

whilst, the past life y/n decided to end her life for good, wishing happiness in next life, she decided to drown herself in the isolated waters of narukami where no one will ever know. unaware, she will be saved later on.

thoma caught past life y/n’s body being pushed back by the waves as he was finding for her. worriedly, he helped her back and saving her. unaware that something happened to her.

- under a full moon and shining stars, both of their souls will switch and modern y/n gets trapped in past life y/n. while past life y/n will be put in a deep sleep under modern y/n’s body.

personalities will be switched as the past life y/n will be somewhat hard-headed and ambitious that may seem comedic due to out of character.

will they be able to did the meaning of life? able to fulfill their missing piece? getting things back to normal?

-🌊🐚

Bonus scene:

- modern y/n woke up light-headed in a fine tatami mat with a worried man beside her. thoma hearing the thud sound indicating that she’s awaken, rushed to her immediately, assisting her.

“y/n! are you alright?” thoma gently touching her head showing concern. “i have prepared a warm miso soup for you”

y/n, blinked many times, looking at every angle, feeling something wasn’t right..

“are we shooting something? who are you? i didn’t set a schedule for a historical photoshoot—“

thoma looking weirdly at what y/n said,

“this is your friend, thoma and we’re not shooting ahaha.. i saw your body washed up on the shore. i’m worried sick about you y/n”

y/n finding him sus, she raised up and touched both sides of thoma’s face fondling his cheeks to the point of being squished later on

“you sure look handsome mr. thoma and thank you for these nice accommodation but please let me get out and i have business to attend—where’s the exit door…“ patting thoma’s head prepping to stand and walk out fast

“but you’re not okay yet y/n!” thoma stopping her

y/n bolts away to the exit, opens the door meeting with inazuman houses, old structures landscaped set with blue-green grasses, sakura trees, and a great view of mt. yougou together with people wearing traditional kimonos, children running and playing around with their kites.

experiencing a great shock y/n fainted— luckily thoma catches her before she falls down.

*timeskip*

“my lord… i’m worried that y/n is experiencing sleep inertia or something sort of amnesia. somethings wrong with her after i saved her. she seems to be a different person and claims to having a business to attend..” thoma reportedly worried to the head of the yashiro commission. kamisato ayato.

“hm.. let’s wait for her to wake up again and see how it goes.” ayato observes the situation.

“yes my lord.”

after a few minutes, y/n wakes up once again.

“ *sighs* i must be dreaming, i should be back to where i was—“ raises her head to observe and saw the usual old furnitures once again. “—or maybe not..” y/n dejectedly sighs.

“ *clears throat* i believe that you are not dreaming. you are here at narukami.” ayato calmly stated.

recognizing the familiar voice, y/n looked at the source of the voice. shocked once again, y/n gladly rushed to the man since she know who it was.. or in another way round.

“oh my god!! secretary kamisato!!! please drive me back to my house! i need your help” y/n side hugged ayato and dramatically sniffles her nose in his white sleeves for comfort.

the other party got shook on what they’ve witness. ayato remained calm though he was concerned and confused at the same time. on the other hand.. thoma was feeling the second hand embarrassment on what he just saw in front of him. consciously rushing to y/n once again.

“uhh.. ahaha.. y/n you just feel unwell i guess, you starting to call names to other people. so sorry my lord, y/n was starting to act differently—“

“hey! what ‘my lord’ are you talking about? that’s my secretary! i need to go home right now!” y/n stubbornly respond back. she looked once again to the familiar man she claimed to be her secretary—now seeing the unusual, non-modern outfit that ayato wore.

“what. the.. hell is going on.” y/n experiencing a great culture shock. ---------------------------------------------------- Note: this was supposed to be a prompt only but i turned it out into a crackfic(?) lmao. Also, english is not my first language so apologies to the grammar errors TvT This is just a prompt and idea! There will no be continuation of this. This is cross-posted in my ao3 account (@penguinxturtle) as well under the title "under starlit purpose" :D

[littlefreya]

Santa Baby

Summary: For over a decade, detective Walter Marshall kept a dirty little secret, thinking no one would ever find out about his past. Sadly for him, you are somewhat of a detective yourself.

Challenge prompt: the song Santa Baby.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Some sexy themes but mostly fluffy floof fluff.

A/N: This is for @toomanystoriessolittletime​​ Christmas challenge, which I am sadly a day late with. Remind me to never sign up to challenges. I stumbled upon erotic book covers that looked a lot like Walter (this and this) so decided it’s a funny idea. I never read these books, so I am not mocking it or the artist who drew it. Many thanks to @wondersofdreaming​ for helping me out. Not beta’d, I own my mistakes.

Please feedback, comment, reblog if you enjoyed reading. 💖

Title: Santa Baby

It’s not that Detective Marshall was the Grinch or anything, it’s just that he couldn’t afford to be merry. With crime levels peaking during that time of the year, and sunlight being scarce, his body ran strictly on caffeine and stale doughnuts. 

The temptation to spend Christmas eve sprawled on the worn-out leather sofa in his office was quite strong tonight. But even big hulking bears had their weaknesses, and as exhausted as he was, he dreaded every morning he woke up without your warm body curled up beside him. 

With his energy level blinking red, he finally decided to call it a night and drive home. Heavy growling and thundering drums roared within his truck, the extreme Scandinavian black-metal he listened to served as a complete contrast to the soft snow that fell from the sky and quietly piled up on the sides of the road. Pausing at the street-light, he watched the little crystals striving to form on his windshield and melting just as quickly against the heat of the car. 

For a single moment, all the terrors of the night diminished by the little flame that was the reminiscent of you - his little firefly who led him through the darkness, tender as snow and wild as fire. Accelerating just a tad, he imagined you’d be asleep by the time he’d get there, and if not, Walter hoped to at least be in your good graces. 

Luckily, ther warm orange hues beaming through the windows assured him that you were still very much awake, and he couldn’t help but spare one of his rare smiles.

Muffled tunes of a familiar song played beyond the door, the bass vibrating through the polished wooden flooring and the walls. Slow and sensual like honey rolling off one’s finger, the jazzy beats filled the spacious house along with the sweetest scent of crushed peppercorn and red berries. Smiling wider, he held onto the doorframe and kicked off his heavy boots.

“Pet?” he called and followed into the living room, hearing you humming along with the lyrics.

“Santa baby, just slip a Sable under the tree for me.”

Oh, he was indeed in your good graces. 

Sitting on your knees with your ankles hunched below your ass, you wore a velvety Santa hat and a sheer, red nighty finished by fake white fur that outlined your breasts. Your hands held a shiny green present over your thighs, and you gave him one of those coy looks that made him want to fall before you and pledge himself as your servant.

Instead, he crooked an eyebrow and unzipped his thick winter coat, carelessly discarding it on the floor and making his way toward you.

“Have you been an awful good girl?” 

Sleeves rolled up; he crossed his muscular arms together while towering over you. His cobalt eyes drank in your sight, trying to decide what to do with you first. The scent of musky sweat mingled with dark cologne wafted over you within seconds, making your chest rise and sink in a primal instinct. 

“Oh, I’m definitely going down your chimney tonight,” he growled upon your reaction to his presence and sucked in his bottom lip with growing hunger.

“At least three times,” you dared him in return and then casually lowered your gaze to the box perched on your lap. 

The large man caught on the hint and carefully knelt before you. One of his hands reached to stroke his beard while his mind rummaged to figure out what surprise hid behind the shiny package. 

“Got something for me over there?” he wondered with a playful beam, “I thought we’re not doing presents until tomorrow morning.”

“Just a little teaser,” you answered. Your eyes shone brighter than the large decorated tree that stood at the corner of the living room. 

Being a detective, Walter could practically smell the mischief that drenched every teeny hair on your body. As usual, his naughty vixen was up to no good. It always made him laugh how bad you were in trying to surprise him, which worked in his favour. Walter hated surprises. 

Intrigued, he snatched the gift from your hands and shook it against his ear for shy second before beginning to unwrap it. His eyes briefly scrutinised yours, darkening, smokey with lust while he tore at the chrome paper and absentmindedly threw pieces of green wrapping all over the living room. 

You watched carefully, your cheeks rounding and filling, your teeth flashing with wickedness upon seeing the colour drain from his rugged face.

“Where…”

Walter paused and swallowed the lump in his throat. Fingers oily with sweat and knuckles turning white, dug into the object held in his hand.

“How did you find this?!”

The snort you’ve been trying to hold back for the last couple of minutes finally made its way out, followed by a fit of uncontrollable giggles that made you fall to your back with your hand held over your torso. 

Walter, on the other hand, was anything but amused. He always feared the day someone would dig up his dirtiest secret.

It was more than a decade ago when he was struggling to pay his tuition to the police academy that Walter found an easy and quick way to make money. As a British immigrant who barely had friends and blended with the crowd, he made the mistake of thinking no one will ever know about his short-lived modelling career for cheesy erotic novels. 

He should have known better. He might have been a professional police detective, but you had a skill for uncovering the truth.

“Where did you find this?” Walter repeated with a frown, clenching his jaw and waving the colorful book in the air.

Pausing your giggles merely for a second, you took a gander at the cover, focusing on the image of your dear husband’s open white shirt. There he was, the man you knew as a brooding, black-sweater wearing grump, lost in some green meadow with a half-naked chick. A deep dramatic gaze crisped his younger face, his nose inhaling the scent of her hair, and his hand laid flat upon her juicy rump. 

Oh the drama!

You tried to speak, but all that came out of your mouth was an uncontrollable peal of chuckles. The corny title of the book didn’t help either; his fiery love rod.

Walter sulked and suddenly shuffled to hover above you, one hand snapped at your wrist before the other discarded the book onto your sternum and joined in restraining your other arm. Led purely by instinct, your legs spread to straddle his wide waist and wrapped around his muscular ass.

Staring at your strong, intimidating husband, the laughter rolling from your lips slowly died down, yet the smile was still smeared between your cheeks, especially once you felt his groin pressing into yours.

“Woman!” the big bear growled at you, “I am not going to ask you more than once, where on earth did you bloody find this?”

“The second-hand bookstore,” you answered and glanced at the book lying upon your chest, “was looking for something raunchy to read when suddenly I noticed a familiar face.” You explained and then swallowed the dryness in your throat. 

“At first I thought I was hallucinating with all them Christmas carols eating into my brain, but then when I took a closer peek, I recognised my husband’s ‘fuck me’ stare.” 

Walter felt a burn rising in his throat and swerving to tingle at his bristly cheeks. If there ever was a moment when he regretted a life decision, that moment was now. He knew he’d never hear the end of it from you. You were dauntless and unyielding as the ocean, one of the reasons why he was utterly in love with you. 

Nostrils flaring, he tightened the grasp around your wrists and rolled his hips into yours, eliciting a small moan from your quivering lips. The thick bulge in his groin hardened at the calling of the hot, wet patch in your panties.

“Name your terms, woman.”

“You are going to read it to me,” you answered without even overthinking and gestured toward the book with your chin. “Every. night. before. bedtime. I want you to hold me in your big strong arms and read me a chapter from ‘his fiery love rod’, or else…”

“Or else?...” 

The fire from the mental suddenly illuminated your face, causing dark shadows to form over your irises and the hollows below your brows. “Your friends at the MPD are going to find out about this one,” you paused, “and the 12 others that you made.”

Taken back by your words, Walter gulped, his fingers became moist around your wrists as sheer horror seeped into his mind.

“You... you know about the others?”

You nodded at him and then snaked your legs around the back of his thighs to cage him in your grasp like a fickle dryad growing her roots around a helpless wanderer. With his attention faltering, you twisted your hips and rolled the two of you so you were on top. Fingers lacing into his, you pinned him down and leered over him with cascading triumph.

“12 books, all under our Christmas tree, detective, so you better be good to me tonight and satisfy all my needs.”

Adam apple bobbing up and down, Walter watched you with a mixture of awe and agitation. There was nothing he hated more than losing control, but damn if he didn’t adore his wicked queen, especially when you were in a joyous mood, which, as he found, tended to be contagious. The moments in which the grouchy detective felt at peace were rare to non-existent. It was only in the embrace of your thighs that he thought that for a minute, everything is going to be okay.

Noticing the muscles of his jaw somewhat relax, you reached for the Christmas hat and slipped it off your head, placing it atop of his curly mess instead. Your hands held firmly onto Walter’s shoulders, and with a careful twist, you flipped the two of you over once again and shoved him down your torso while blissfully chanting.

“Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight, hurry down the chimney tonight, hurry toniiiiiiiiiiight.”

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Disclaimer: I don’t own Night Hunter/Nomis or Walter Marshall

[i-became-the-lady-of-the-blog]

They were hiding like they always did, staying in the corners, only ever greeting people and too nervous to make conversation. ‘The adorably shy queen’ the tabloids had named them. Shyness really wasn’t an issue, they loved meeting new people. But every time they even mentioned life outside the castle to another person, they could feel his cold, viridescent stare on them.

They were nothing but a doll, decor. Teenage girls wanted to be them, the boys found them cute. What a truly odd existence. Malleus had gone into the next room with some politician from the west. Having a banquet at political meetings had been his idea, giving them something to do while he worked.

A hand rested on their shoulder, they turned to see Leona Kingscholar. He looked the same, though a bit of rough stubble adorned his chin, he had new tattoos as well.

“We need to talk, herbivore”, the nickname that annoyed them to bits years ago now seemed like a call from heaven. A way out

An ally.

This is a sequel to this story

----

Before everything went to south, MC was a social butterfly. They would talk with anyone and find topic to converse easily but here they were. Too afraid to make a conversation with people to avoid making Malleus upset. They remember first time MC felt Malleus’ raw jealousy on their first year in Valley of Thorns. They were trying to cope with their abduction, to feel normal again and soothe their need to socialize with others. There were noble fae visitors on that day. Maleficent suggested drink tea on the balcony while she, Malleus and some of the nobles had a meeting. The remaining group went to the balcony, sitting on the chairs around the table. 

It was silent when the servants brought snacks for the group. MC thought the group hated them since they are a human so they didn’t utter a word. It was silent until one of the fae ladies spoke up and asked how they’ve been faring. MC was reluctant at first, fearing their judgment but as they spoke more, their confidence restored. It was not just the fae lady who initiated the conversation, the rest of the group were good people too. Talking with them soothed MC’s nerves, in fact, they craved to talk with them more. They were on the verge of a mental breakdown after being isolated for so very long, talking with them felt like a cure in that moment. They could not even recall the last time they laughed until that day. All was going well until he showed up. Their meeting ended earlier so he didn’t want to waste any time to be with MC, yet when he teleported, he saw MC talking and laughing with someone who isn’t him. He dismissed the guests politely before teleporting MC and himself to his- no their- bed chambers. 

Malleus was enraged that they were getting intimate with another even though it was just laughing and engaging in conversation. The sky darkened as Malleus expression was taking a dark turn. The sky was rumbling with thunder and lightening, as Malleus was taking slow and uncanny steps towards them, making MC flinch with every step. That day, MC felt Malleus’ true rage, true jealousy, true power... It was not uncommon for Malleus to take pleasure in their body regardless of MC’s wishes but that day, it was more than that. It caused MC to have nightmares over a year. Waking up because of a night terror and only to be soothed by the person who caused it was taking a toll on MC. But no one cared nor dared to stand up for them. That day MC learned not to talk with people when Malleus wasn’t around, how much cruel Malleus could get when he wishes and no one would bat an eye. That day MC decided to be obedient, to avoid more harm.

Now here MC was, greeting delegates from different countries and the nobles of Valley of Thorns briefly and making a small talk before moving on to the next person. No one managed to ask questions beyond daily talk and Valley of Thorns related queries. Their court and the delegates saw them as the Shy Queen, thinking that MC was still nervous to talk with people they didn’t know personally. The truth couldn’t be far from that. They just didn’t want to get punished for socializing nor feel that pain again.

MC needed a drink and compose themselves before moving on to the other guests. That was the plan until they saw something or more like someone. They had to take a second look since they didn’t think Malleus would be this bold to invite someone from the past, someone who knew who MC was before becoming Malleus’ prisoner- no spouse. Taking another look at the figure, the realization dawned upon them. It was Leona Kingscholar, the hot guy who was not even trying to be hot, the lion king of Savanaclaw, the person they and Grim kept awake all night for him to help fight the next dorm leader. Leona and MC were not close in the NRC but to see a familiar face...

MC just wanted to run and hug him tightly. They were about to do that but then Malleus came to their mind. Speak of the devil, he shall appear...

Malleus came soon after Leona spoke. MC wanted to explain the situation so it wouldn’t cause a problem but Malleus cut them off, pulling them over, kissing their hands affectionately, making a show in front of Leona.  MC recalled the rivalry between them. Leona was powerful but he was in the middle of Valley of Thorns, surrounded by powerful fae, Malleus, Lilia and Maleficent herself. He didn’t stand a chance. They didn’t want him to be harmed so they were eager to remove the reason of current conflict, themselves, from there but it was impossible for Malleus to just let them go. MC’s heart was racing, as if it would go out of her chest when Malleus forced them to eye contact. They thought a kiss on cheek would suffice but Malleus lifted their chip up before kissing them on the lips. If it wasn’t for the years of practice to stay still even while being violated, their knees would have given away. 

MC let out the breath they weren’t aware that they were holding. Everything was too much, the stress was getting to them but they couldn’t fail now and make Malleus think something happened between them and Leona. They saw a servant and ordered a drink. Before they could have some alone time, a noble approached them and started talking. MC was having a hard time to have the standard conversation as they has with the rest. They were feeling nauseous as the nobles kept talking but luckily the servant brought them a glass of campaign. Gulping the entire glass in one go, they got the attention of the nobles as they started to make unwanted comments. The alcohol made them relax just a tiny bit. Finally, MC was able to continue conversation. As it ended, they asked for another drink while going over to greet others.

After what seemed like an age, MC found an opening to take a break. They walked into the quieter corridor, hoping for some alone time. They didn’t get what they hoped for...

A hand rested on their shoulder, making them panic since they knew it was not how Malleus touched so this meant someone other than Malleus was touching them. They wanted to warn the person. They turned around to see Malleus’ possible victim, only to meet with Leona’s eyes. “We need to talk” He said firmly.

MC just wanted him to be okay so they couldn’t speak with him, ensuring Malleus’ wrath. They conjured up a smile as best as they could in that situation. “We have already talked, Prince Kingscholar. Now if you excuse me,” MC was going to walk around him and go back to the crowd - so much for relaxing.

“Lizard is in an important meeting along with grandma Lizard. The guards are not checking your every move all the time. They have intervals.” Leona stated casually. “This means we can talk, Herbivore.” He seemed determined to talk.

Mc knew they should have walked away but something in Leona’s voice made them trust his observation. “Be quick please, I don’t want to anger Mal- I mean, my husba- I- I-” They were having trouble with speaking with Leona without saying what went on behind the closed doors. 

“I don’t need to smell to know your nervousness, MC. Especially around the Lizard who is supposed to be your husband. Tell me what happened directly now.” Leona looked the same, though a bit of rough stubble adorned his chin, he had new tattoos as well. “Did you return home?” He was asking impossible questions.

MC gulped, recalling the day they lost everything. It pained them greatly to think about the day they thought they would see their family and friends again. “No...” They whispered, clenching their fists and burying their nails to their palm to not cry, yet they couldn’t prevent the quivering of their voice. “Dire Crowley told me to come over to the mirror room. He told me that he found a way to go home and wants me to check it out before going back completely.” They closed their eyes, it was as if reliving that dreadful moment. “My husba- Mal- no my husba... You-Know-Who was there with the old bat. I thought they wanted to see interdimensional travel for the first time but they had other plans.  You-Know-Who told Dire that he did a good job before he took me to Valley of Thorns with the old bat. I resisted at first but if you went through what I-” Their voice broke as they felt tears in their eyes, dropping to their cheeks. They wiped their cheek, “I answered your question, now please leave me be before some guard sees us together and reports to You-Know-Who. I accepted this is my life and I live this way now.”

“Not anymore,” Leona objected, MC could feel the anger behind these those words. “Your imprisonment ends today, you are coming with me, Herbivore.” He stated, ordering them around like when they were in the NRC.

In that moment, it seemed silly but hearing them from someone like Leona made them imagine how their life could have changed. Maybe this was their way out and he was their ally.

——

🍪 Anon I love your brain once again!