#now his is a cross i would gladly make skis from

[calandrinon]

I know I posted this last night but it seems relevant here too

2023 Australian Aboriginal Voice Referendum Results

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 126 }

john wayne.

ichigo kurosaki x fem.reader

notes: unedited; post lost agent arc, but pre thousand year blood war arc; may be a little canon divergent. a self indulgent story where the reader doesn't know whether she's afraid of him- or in love with him.

{ baby, he's got to be crazy | living like he's john wayne | always facing the world, a-chasing the girl | baby, he's got to be crazy }

there were moments where ichigo kurosaki absolutely intimidated and frightened you, and you did all you could to avoid him like the plague whilst spending your school years at karakura high.

in your eyes, ichigo was someone who always got into fights and had the appearance of the usual delinquent. his orange hair was difficult to ignore, seeming to capture the essence of a sunset itself. despite never once sharing a class with him, the times that you did pass by him, his features were always drawn up in a scowl.

sometimes, being in the same room with ichigo felt stifling. it was as though there was a power felt emanating from him, one that you couldn't quite explain or put a finger on. all you knew was that he was strong- much stronger than he let on.

as you walked through the hallways after finishing your club duties for the day, you cling to your bag while looking out the window. the skies were bathed in warm, gentle hues of the sunset, and the sight was so beautiful to you that you had to take a chance to stop and admire it.

while looking at the setting sun, your mind wanders to ichigo, feeling your heart twist a bit in anticipation while remembering the conversation you last had with your friends.

you recall a time when you hung out with your friends, orihime and tatsuki, simply studying for your respective exams when orihime cheerfully called out your name and asks, "ne, what do you think of kurosaki-kun?"

you look back at her with your eyes wide, "huh? why would you ask me about him all of a sudden?"

a strange expression crosses her features, but she simply shakes her head, appearing sheepish while placing a strand of her red hair behind her ear, "well, i was just wondering, that's all! it's just, you seem to be doing a lot to avoid him..."

you felt your cheeks turn warm in embarrassment, "i have not been avoiding him! w-well, not intentionally, at least." you cough, trying to hide how awkward you felt. you didn't think anyone would notice how you spent most of your high school years not interacting with ichigo at all, managing to reach your final year without a hitch.

"why? did that jerk do something to you?" tatsuki was quick to come to your defense, "you can tell me if that idiot did something to upset you, and i will gladly have a word with him."

you try to diffuse the situation, holding up your hands in protest while calming your friends down, "no please, tatsuki, there's no need to do anything to him! it's just... i don't know, something about him...scares me."

your friends remain silent, waiting for you to explain. you swallow thickly while running a hand through your own hair, "he hasn't done anything wrong, but sometimes, when he's near, i can feel his presence. there's something... foreboding about him, i guess. like, something that makes him not all... human."

the warmth felt against your cheeks becomes even more prominent, making you shake your head as you slapped both of your hands against them. "please, i'm sorry, don't tell kurosaki i said all of that. i know it makes no sense and-"

"no no, that's totally understandable! b-but still, kurosaki isn't that scary at all!"

"i agree with orihime, he's really a dummy who doesn't know how to act normally around people sometimes-"

"and he has a heart of gold, with his desire to protect everyone."

oddly enough, both orihime and tatsuki did their best to convince you that ichigo was just a normal guy with an unfriendly face, and you had to hold back your giggling, promising them that you'd try to speak to ichigo when the chance came up.

thinking back on it now, you kind of regretted your promise to them. something about ichigo made you so nervous, and you found that you couldn't think straight when he was around. you sigh and rest your head against the window, playing various scenarios of you greeting ichigo, just to see if you could do it or not.

"hey, are you okay?"

in the midst of your reverie, you freeze, hearing that familiar deep voice calling out to you. moving your head away from the window, you look to your right to see ichigo himself. he wore his usual school uniform while placing a hand within the confines of his pockets, his posture slightly slouched when he casually approaches you.

"are you feeling sick? do you need to go to the infirmary?"

you couldn't breathe, meeting with his brown eyes as you could see a softness in them you had never seen before. had he always looked this beautiful? and just why was your heart suddenly racing now?

whether it was out of fear, or something else, you couldn't say for sure.

when he was directly in front of you, you found that you lost all confidence, quickly apologizing to him with every intention of leaving him. your mind was a muddled mess, and you felt so flustered that you didn't know what to do.

you merely took two steps away from him when you felt something pulling you back, encircling your wrist as you were trapped against a lithe form and the wall.

ichigo's scowl was back, and he kept you against the wall. "are you afraid of me?"

you truly felt mortified at that moment, unable to say a word to him as you felt dizzy from his proximity. you could smell the faint scent of his cologne, and his body heat was seeping into you, making it harder for you to concentrate.

your heart was beating painfully out of your chest, and you couldn't say a word to him as you ended up looking away from him. ichigo ends up clicking his tongue, finally pushing himself away from you. with ichigo no longer pressing you up against the wall, you look at his steadily retreating form, not daring to move until he was out of your sight.

you waited for several minutes, remaining in the hallway while mentally berating yourself. why did you have to feel so weird when it came to him? what made you feel this way, and were you really afraid of him-

or was it something else?

you were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't realize just how low the sun was beginning to set. with a gasp, you take a hold of your bag and made a mad dash toward the exit, practically running home in hopes that nightfall wouldn't come.

your breathing was labored, with your footsteps pounding across the concrete streets of karakura town. all you wanted to do was go home and be alone with your thoughts, but something stops you from moving forward.

you halt your movements, frowning as you strained your ears to hear your surroundings. you swore that as you ran, something was following you.

blood was rushing through your ears as you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins, initiating your fight or flight response.

that's her...

a cruel voice echoes into the air, filling your veins with ice as you shakily take a step forward, feeling something ominous coming from behind you.

this has to be her... his heart.

if we destroy what is most important to him, we'll destroy his heart...

you gasp and tried to force your legs to move forward once more, now running across the empty streets of karakura when a slash was felt tearing through the fabric of your uniform. you whimper, looking behind you to see a thin slice of blood appearing on the side of your abdomen.

a sudden tremor was what ultimately brings you back down to your knees with a scream, the pain all but masked due to the anxiety and fear that was felt coursing through your veins. as you were looking forward, you were able to make out two, large fuzzy shadows. a skeletal mask hid their features, and you felt an all-consuming sense of despair coursing through you-

because this...this was how you were going to die.

the looming shadows were seen leaning down, and you could only bring yourself to close your eyes, awaiting for the painful death-

"NO! NOT HER!"

your throat becomes dry when you hear the sounds of his voice, forcing you to look up when you saw ichigo dressed in all-black while wielding a thin blade. the shadows face him, ready to attack when he brings his sword down on one of the shadows. it swiftly goes down in one hit while ichigo flows gracefully to the next shadow, not even giving it a single chance to reach you as he pierces through its mask.

a shrill cry echoes throughout the night, and your heart was still pounding with fear even as ichigo's body shielded you from the destruction of those shadow like creatures.

time slowed down to a crawl, and only when you could no longer see the outline of those shadows did you fall to your knees. your ears were ringing, and you found it hard to focus, unable to react even when ichigo was calling out your name.

a familiar warmth was felt enveloping you in a gentle embrace, and you found yourself falling back against a hard chest. your eyes were distant, unable to truly see ichigo. his frown was back, and you heard him let out a soft curse before leaning in closer to you, placing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss.

the sensation of his chapped lips against yours was what ultimately brings you back down to earth, grounding you as you responded eagerly to his kiss. with a soft sigh of his name, you allowed your lips to slot perfectly against his, threading your hands through his sunset colored hair while basking in his sudden kiss. as ichigo warms you, you no longer felt like gravity was the one grounding you, but rather it was him.

when he feels your response, ichigo pulls away from the kiss and smiles down at you. you feel the way the calloused pad of his thumb trace at your bottom lip, gaze achingly sweet when he asks, "are you okay?"

you could only manage a nod, making ichigo give you another one of his soft smiles when he stands back to his full height still holding you. "alright, let me take you home."

"wait...!" your voice comes out as hoarse due to your prior screams, and you had to wet your lips to get rid of the dryness felt against them. "i...i still feel scared... can i please stay with you...?"

the kindness was so evident in his gaze, and you found yourself wondering why you were so afraid of him in the first place. he simply tightens his hold on you, simply answering your pleas with a simple "yeah."

holding you close to his chest, ichigo ends up taking you somewhere safe, running with an almost inhuman speed towards the town park. the cold air was felt whipping through your hair, and you could do little but continue to cling to him whilst he ran. with the moon and stars now shining brightly in the sky, ichigo reaches the park and settles down against the plush grass while keeping you on his lap.

he says nothing, simply looking up at the sky while running his hands through your hair. meanwhile, you kept staring up at his beautiful features with a million questions running through your mind, leaving you feeling overwhelmed and speechless.

your name coming out from ichigo's lips in a soft spoken tone breaks you out of your thoughts, with you meeting his gaze once more. his brown eyes were gentle, and you could feel his thumb gracing at your cheeks in a tender caress.

"i'm glad that i was able to save you."

you felt your heart racing again, with your hands clinging to the front of his dark robe, "kurosaki...?"

he hums, brushing his lips against your head of hair, silently coaxing you to go on.

"d-do you... do you happen to... i mean, by any chance- do you like me?" you blurt out as quickly as possible, your words coming out as a bit rushed when you clench your eyes shut, feeling afraid of what his answer might be.

ichigo was silent for several seconds before he slowly begins speaking once more. "you know... a while back, when my old man was talking about how he and my mother met... he told me that my mother was like his sun- that she became the center of his entire universe. and i didn't understand it back then..."

you open your eyes, feeling ichigo tracing his lips against the shell of your ear. when you felt him nuzzling against your skin, the sensation being achingly sweet to you, was when he whispers, "but now, i finally understand it."

his large hand was felt on your chin, making you look up at him. "i always noticed you. you were close to inoue and arisawa, and there was always this desire i had to protect you... to shield you from all the dangers of the world."

"but you were afraid of me...and i didn't want to scare you anymore. yet at the same time, i didn't want to leave you alone. i never wanted you to get hurt or feel pain because of me."

ichigo's eyes narrow, and you could feel the back of his hand gracing at your cheek. "i guess what i'm trying to say is that... you've become the center of my universe... that you've always been the center of my universe."

your heart was bursting at the seams, finally filling with an unbidden happiness as you allowed you to realize the truth of your emotions-

perhaps deep down, you knew that he loved you, but was too shy or insecure to truly believe it. yet now, with ichigo's earnest expression and true confession, you felt a joy that was indescribable.

so instead of conveying how you felt for ichigo with words, you allowed your actions to reply back to his confession. with a whisper of his name, you lean up and allow your lips to meet with his in a sweet kiss, one that let him know just how much he had become the center of your own universe as well.

a.n. - 'john wayne' by cigarettes after sex is such a fitting song for ichigo kurosaki. writing this brought out so many good memories of all the daydreams i had about him when i was younger... 🥹 i miss him ♡ 

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[aquagirl1978]

Snow Angels - Cyran Rose x Reader (Ikemen Prince)

A/N: Day 11 of my 12 Days of Christmas event.

Pairing: Cyran Rose x Reader

Prompt: a walk in the woods

Word Count: 941

Tags: fluff

Large snowflakes drifted down from the dark skies as you walked through the woods. Soft and fluffy, the snow quickly covered Cyran’s fiery red hair.

You weren’t quite sure what possessed you to ask him to join you on your walk that evening, but you did. And you were even more shocked that he agreed to come. Maybe it was the tired look on his face when you saw him leaving the training grounds that made you think that maybe he needed a friend to talk to. 

Come to think of it, you had only seen Cyran around Clavis. Or Sariel. Or the other knights. You at least had Rio, but did Cyran have any friends?

Maybe you could be that friend to Cyran.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you both headed out as the snow began to fall. 

That proved to be harder than you had thought, though, you quickly discovered.

“How was your day today?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“It was ok,” he replied plainly, his face devoid of any emotion. 

“So…” you pondered, as you rubbed your hands together, thinking of something to talk about. “I love it when it snows. Everything is so pretty.”

Cyran replied with a derisive snort. “You don’t like the snow?” you asked.

“Never said I didn’t like it. Just it makes extra work when I have to help with his traps, is all.”

Ah, the famous Lelouchian traps. Even you had heard of them in your short time in Rhodolite.

“You and Clavis…you’ve made a lot of traps together?”

“Enough that I wouldn’t mind seeing that hellcat fall into one someday,” he said with a smirk. His eyes crinkled as he glanced at you, your face felt warm as you wondered if this was the first time you saw Cyran smile.

A comfortable silence fell as you continued your walk, the snowflakes – now resembling fluffy balls of cotton – getting larger the longer you walked. The path between the dense trees began to narrow, forcing you to walk closer to Cyran. On occasion, your hands brushed against one another. Each time with Cyran quickly pulling away.

There was a large clearing ahead, with long, snow-covered branches criss-crossing, creating a canopy. You were quiet as you approached save for the sounds of your boots crunching the now thick snow on the ground.

You walked towards the clearing’s center, your body moving as if it was drawn by a magnet. With your hands outstretched, you slowly spun in a circle like a child trying to catch a snowflake. 

And as you spun, you could have sworn you heard something in the cool, chill air.

You continued to spin, the sound of Cyran’s light laughter ringing clear like a bell in the woods. His laughter was infectious; it wasn’t long before you were laughing, too.

Lost in the moment, you tried to stop spinning when you began to feel dizzy. But you were unable to stop, and soon you found yourself down on the ground in the snow. Cyran quickly came rushing to your side; he peered  down at you, perplexed to find you were still laughing despite lying in the cold snow. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand outstretched, offering assistance. “Please let me help you up.”

Any other day, you would have gladly taken Cyran’s hand, your knight in shining armor. But not today. Today, you were having fun playing in the snow. 

And you wanted Cyran to partake in the fun, too.

When you ignored his offering of assistance, Cyran frowned. “What pray tell are you doing right now?” He let out an exasperated sigh as he watched you.

“I’m making snow angels,” you replied, as if this was the most normal thing an adult could be doing. You moved your arms and legs a few more times and then stopped, sat up and gazed up at Cyran. “Please tell me you made snow angels at some point in your life.”

Cyran rolled his eyes so hard, you thought they’d roll right out of his skull. “I was raised in Obsidian. What do you think?”

“Really? Obsidian?” your eyes went wide as you asked your question.

Cyran grumbled and shook his head. “Another story for another day,” he muttered. “Could you please just take my hand and let me help you?”

Still sitting up, you mulled over his offer for a moment. With a smile, you reached out your hand to his; your fingers slid against his palm, his skin rough against yours. And with one quick tug, you caught Cyran off-guard. 

With a disgruntled sound, he fell to the ground next to you. After dusting off some snow, he turned to you. “That wasn’t very –”

You held a finger to his lips, shushing him. ‘Please. Just lie here. Would you lie here with me and make snow angels and forget everything else in the world?”

Your eyes met; you couldn’t be certain, but you thought you saw a twinkle in his eyes as the corners of his lips curved ever so slightly. Wordlessly, he fell back onto the snow, your heart swelling with pride as he did as you asked.

When enough time passed – enough that you both forgot about how late it was – Cyran stood up and offered his hand to you. And this time, you gladly accepted it, allowing him to help you up. You made your way back to the palace much the same way as you did going – with a comfortable silence. Only this time, the distance between you was shorter. 

And when your hand brushed against his, this time he didn’t pull away.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @umi-adxhira @crypticbibliophile @lancelotscloak @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @melodiousramblings @wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage @nightghoul381 @judejazza @maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia @ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia @lunaaka @portrait-ninja @sh0jun @wordycheeseblob

[searchingforserendipity25]

Vigil. idril & aredhel. ao3.

TW: references to kidnapping, implied/referenced sexual assault.

"Aunt," said Idril, rather stiffly, where once she would have used her name, and would not have asked at all. "Might I join you?"

Aredhel fought the urge to bare her teeth, and kept her eyes on the crowded clouds above.

Pink-washed and round-bellied, west-bound. The wind was fierce with currents only clouds and birds sailed, but the courtyard Aredhel had chosen for her rest was well-sheltered, the stone rich with heat.

It had been some effort, to go the long way alone; but she had a cane, and a son to lean on. She had been weary and pained enough to send the son gladly away; and be gladdest of all to be alone.

She heard Idril come, her silver feet making their familiar song upon the mosaics of Gondolin's courts. That was more kindness she was used to in Nan Elmoth, where many things scurried, and few gave a warning of their proximity.

A glorious warmth seeped into her bones. She had been so cold, in Nan Elmoth. Not a first - but it was a damp mist that sank through the skin, a dizzying weariness. Sunlight - only occasionally. Eöl kept to the starlit-ways. 

Aredhel had kissed Arien Sun-Star once, and crowed to voicelessness when first she saw hard land, and thawing frost. She had missed this - it made her angry so. What a waste of years she might have spent otherwise.

And still Idril was waiting. It was not kind, to set a test upon her; but Aredhel could not do otherwise. And it was good to know Idril would wait; that she was not so changed as to have lost her persistence.

"Sit, if you like," Aredhel said. "I am not your master, to tell you what you might do."

Her voice sounded rough with long illness to her own ears, but she took her time gathering it in her throat, made it strong. In her sujourn under the curling boughs of Nan Elmoth, it had been needful to speak, and always it had been done with effort. She might have forgotten the sound of her own words, let them fade entirely.

Was he your master, then, Idril thought. Were you not free to do as you would, even to sit in the sun?

Aredhel did not hear it, but she knew her niece. The same wisdom that kept Idril's thought away from the walls that Aredhel had raised about her mind would make her draw conclusion. 

Not the wrong ones. They spoke in Sindarin. Aredhel was not certain yet she would speak the language of her people again; if she could, even inside the high walls of Gondolin, where Quenya was used in the market, in the king's chambers, in songs of devotions.

Gondolin's benches were wide and sturdy enough; two might lay abreast, and not touch.

Idril's hair smelled of laurel and honey, still. Few things had made Aredhel's eyes sting on her return to Gondolin. The white stone shimmering in the heat had been a great relief, but an indifferent one, as a hunted beast might feel at the sight of a cave or a tall branch. Now only did Aredhel feel - how familiar it was. This smell, Idril's closeness, the whirring machinery of her mind close enough they might have shared a moment of wry understanding, as they had so many times before.

They did not touch.

Now a small army of cirrocumulus overhead, sweet clouds all following on one another. She had tried to teach Lómion the different cloud names, but he had not the love for the skies that she did. Her son was busy in the forges. He had found his source of warmth, learned at his father's side. Aredhel had loved him less the day she understood he would not need to live as she did.

Possibly her measuring scale of love had grow skewered. O, now Turgon never would allow her out! But the worst of it was that she was tired. Not her wound alone caused it, though that healed slowly regardless.

 She willed herself to see it - herself on horseback again, crossing fields of clover, narrow passes. Her body thrummed with exhaustion at the thought of it. 

The high noon sun pressed against their lids, turned the world to a blinding gilt. Idril surely felt Aredhel's fever rising, the warmth that rose from her skin; but Idril was wise, and knew how to measure her silence. Aredhel had forgotten a little, how worthy her niece was.

At times dark shadows swirled overhead through the clouds. Slow, broad wings high above, coming from all corners of the mountainside.

The vultures that fed most often by Amon Gwareth had flown days ago to the city walls for a feast: Eöl, they cried. Eöl is dead. More and more came, eager, hungry.

 As a widow she had woken from near-death, knowing with rare foresight that her body would not be her own, and whole and hale again, until Eöl was eaten entire, bowels and eyeballs and marrow. Aredhel of Gondolin waited.

It was a good wait; long enough to learn the skies again, to be sun-warm all the way through.

She touched her fingertips lightly to Idril's, when it was done, and felt her stir, her thought turning to Aredhel, a constrained joy and grief and relief. But Aredhel was in no hurry, and did not wish to open her heart again, nor leave to return to her chambers; not till the last birds of rapine were borne slowly away in the wind.

[weaveandwood]

Weave and Woods Chapter Four: One with the Weave

Gale/Named Tav | Slow Burn | Read on AO3 | Entire Work

Summary:

Gale tells all, the tieflings throw a party, and Auroria has an overactive imagination.

Auroria leaned back against the tree trunk, the warm late afternoon light filtering through the leaves from her seat several branches up. Whenever her mind was racing, she had always taken to the trees. Being above her problems helped her work through them.  Problem number one: she couldn’t stop thinking about a wizard Problem number two: said wizard slept with a goddess Problem number three: said wizard could erupt Problem number four: did she mention the goddess?

To say the tieflings were overjoyed would be an understatement. Word traveled fast. By the time the group returned to the grove, a crowd awaited them, cheering as they crested the final hill before the entrance. A familiar face found its way to the front of the throng - Zevlor. He told them that a scout had recently arrived and informed the tiefling refugees that the leadership at the goblin camp had been decimated, explaining the mood, all while attempting to hand Auroria a small patchworked bag of gold. 

“Thank you, but I can’t take this, this is too much,” she said, trying to pass the bag back to him. She heard Astarion mutter behind her that he would gladly take it and they should get a reward since they almost died. 

“No, no, you must - we took up a collection and everyone freely donated what they wanted. Do not feel guilty about taking what you have earned, though it truly isn't what you deserve. It was no doubt a tough battle against many formidable foes.” He placed his hands on both her shoulders.  “We can finally leave! No armies at our heels, we may make it to Baldur’s Gate,” the older tiefling practically beamed at the prospect of putting this grove and these druids behind him. 

“Alright then, since you insist,” Auroria smiled and placed the small bag of coins in her pack to distribute evenly across the group later. “When will you leave for the city?”

“In the next day, to get ahead of any reinforcements. But we needn’t talk about farewells now. We’d like to join you in your camp this evening, if you’ll have us, to celebrate you and all the good you have done for us since your arrival to the grove.”

Auroria nodded, “Of course! That sounds great, thank you Zevlor.”

“Perfect! We will bring everything: food, wine, and good spirits. I believe even Halsin wants to join in. We will see you there later,” he nodded and walked off, leaving the adventurers in the clearing.

“Well, what do you all say to a well-deserved night off?” She smiled brightly, turning to her group, her friends, as they all raucously cheered to what would likely be a night to remember.

The only person more overjoyed than the tieflings was Gale. This day was turning out even brighter than the cloudless blue skies overhead.

******

“I need to speak to all of you. It would remain unconscionable to remain silent on this matter. You need to know who I was. What I really am.”

“Gale, the sun’s just barely come up, what is so urgent?” Astarion whined - he preferred to stay in his tent until the sun was higher in the sky and breakfast was prepared. 

Auroria crossed her arms. “Let him talk.” A look of concern flashed across her face, Gale noticed, betraying her authoritative tone. Not 10 minutes ago, she was baring her soul to him and now he may be on the brink of losing both her and everyone else’s trust that was just so recently and fragilely won. His anxiety spiked. Still, it must be done. 

Gale told them all about his past. His connection to Mystra, from being her Chosen, to her lover, then being abandoned by her. He spoke of his studies, his deep ambition to further manipulate the Weave, his search for a book to return a missing part of magic to her, making her love him again and allowing him more access to the Weave. He looked at Auroria, whose eyes were slightly widened. She was always so expressive. 

“Let me show you.” He took her hand, holding it on his chest, directly over his heart. The tattoo glowed a faint purple. He opened his mind to her, the parasites allowing him to share his memory from his point of view - a book, opening and showing no pages, only a swirling mass of the darkest, blackest Weave. The mass clawing its way into his body. The feeling of eternal hunger.

Auroria yanked her hand away, gasping, the connection severed as her eyes darted back and forth between his. “How are you still alive?” 

He went through it all - the need for magical artefacts, the consequences of not consuming enough Weave. The explosive end he and many innocents would face if that came to pass. He looked at the group, all silent with wide eyes as they took in who - no what - they had found themselves saddled with. Insecurity washed over him and he looked at the ground, unable to make eye contact. 

“This must feel like such a betrayal. I should have told you sooner. Say the word, and we’ll part ways.”

A voice finally spoke up. One that he was finding himself always hoping  to hear.

“What? Absolutely not! You are a part of the group, Gale. A very invaluable one, and not just for your magic. You will travel on with us,” Auroria nodded her head once. She turned on her heel and walked away, not hearing or caring if anyone had anything else to say. 

Karlach walked over to the wizard and smiled as everyone started making their way back to their tents for a little more sleep before heading to the Emerald Grove. “Maybe we should start an explosive hearts club, Gale! What do you say?” 

******

Auroria leaned back against the tree trunk, the warm late afternoon light filtering through the leaves from her seat several branches up. Whenever her mind was racing, she had always taken to the trees. Being above her problems helped her work through them. 

Problem number one: she couldn’t stop thinking about a wizard Problem number two: said wizard slept with a goddess Problem number three: said wizard could erupt Problem number four: did she mention the goddess?

Times like these, she wished she had a stronger connection to the gods. It would be so nice to be able to pray and ask for clarity. Believing that they cared, that they would give guidance on how to live your life, solve your problems…how much easier would it be than to have to figure out your own shit with your own brain? 

She sighed and plucked a small acorn from the tree, twirling it between her fingers. She relied on nature to calm her thoughts, as it so often did. A flock of small birds flew by. The wind rustled in the trees surrounding her. A twig snapped, drawing her attention.

Gale.

She was going to have to train him on how to move more quietly. Still, she observed him quietly from her vantage point. He was carrying a book, as usual, but it seemed like he was also looking for something, or maybe someone. He, along with everyone else, had changed into their camp gear as there was no need for armor and weapons on a day off. His sleeves were pushed up and she could see his forearms, veins running from his hands to disappear under his sleeves at the elbows. She wanted to trace each one with her fing - stop it, she thought to herself, forcing her brain to move on.  She looked at his hair, warm brown and falling in waves to his shoulders. It looked soft. She wondered how he would react if she ran her fingers through - no, definitely not. Her eyes caught on the silver earring he always wore, the faint lines from the orb running up to his eyes. Remember. Goddess. 

He turned, this time looking up and spotting her, raising a hand in greeting. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to!” He said, raising his voice so it would reach her. 

She gave him a half smile in return and tossed the acorn to him. “You found me, though I could hear you coming from a mile away. We might need to work on that.”

He caught it, examining it between his long, elegant fingers. Stop thinking about his hands. “One doesn’t need to sneak often if they’re talented enough in spell work, and you happen to be in the presence of one of the best, remember?” he smiled up at her. 

“Oh, how could I forget?” She laughed, “You do like to remind us so often.” She started to climb down the branches when she felt a cool sensation all over her body, then the sensation of being lighter than she should be. She looked at Gale, his hand glowing faintly with the remnants of a spell. 

“Gale, did you cast feather fall on me?” She took advantage of it and dropped the 20 feet to the ground instead of navigating the trees. “You know I’ve been climbing trees for over 30 years, I think I can safely get down from a mere 20 feet.”

He looked sheepish, the tips of his ears turning pink. “No disrespect to your climbing prowess, I just thought that on a day off and so close to the tieflings’ arrival, you’d like to remain sweat and exertion free.” 

“Well, sometimes being sweaty isn’t all that bad, in the right circumstance - “ she stopped herself abruptly, not meaning to say that out loud. It was her turn for her cheeks to turn pink with mild embarrassment. She cleared her throat, nodding her head towards his book. “Well, it uh…looks like you want to be alone with your reading. I’ll leave you to it - see you at the party tonight!” She awkwardly finished, turning around and hastily making a beeline back to camp. 

What the hells was that? 

******

The camp was in a joyous mood. Wine had started to flow and everyone was mingling. The tieflings had delivered upon their promise - there was wine, food, and everyone was in a good mood. A great mood, even. No one seemed to be happier than Auroria, Gale noticed. He had taken a bottle of wine and a plate of food back to his tent, content to spend the latter half of the evening relaxing, reading, and enjoying comforts that reminded him of his home in Waterdeep. He could not help watching her though. Everyone wanted to talk to her, including him. She was magnetic. Friendly to a fault, even after suffering so much loss and experiencing so much solitude. He was certain her comment earlier today had been solely banter and innuendo between friends, to grow their camaraderie, but part of him couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to be sweaty with her in the right circumstance, as she implied. To hold her hands, feel her fingers on his skin, her full lips against his. He shook his head. No, she is just kind, and you are misreading the situation.  

Still, it had pleased him to no end when she accepted his invitation to a private lesson in magic when the party ran its course. He smiled to himself, flipping through the pages of a book. He owed her for that kindness. What would he show her this evening? He knew she didn’t like to rely on magic herself, but how much stronger would she be if she knew a few more spells to enhance her ranging ability? Could he even help her with that? The thought of spending more time alone with her sent a rush of excitement through him, causing a faint throb to emanate from his orb. 

Inhale…exhale…calm yourself. He repeated the mantra to himself.

She is kind, and you are content being her friend. 

******

Auroria was well and truly buzzed, laughing out loud at Karlach’s comment about cracking Gale’s spine like a new book. “Hells, Karlach, we need to get your engine tamed so you can get laid. That is our new top priority, forget the tadpoles!” They both laughed, wiping tears from their eyes. Maybe Shadowheart had given her too much liquid courage earlier after joking about how cozy she had been getting with Gale lately. 

She had to admit she was anticipating the magical lesson Gale had promised her earlier this evening. Certainly, knowing him, it would actually be a lesson in magic, but still…the thought of spending time alone with him was growing on her. Though if she was honest with herself, from the moment he tumbled out of the rock and landed on her, she had felt a magnetic pull to him. Something she couldn’t explain. She shook her head. Introspection and wine were never a good combination, especially with a wine as cheap as the one she was currently drinking. 

Slowly, the night grew darker and more silent as everyone started to turn in for the night. Some alone, some in pairs. Some she didn’t expect - was Wyll going with Lae’zel? Interesting. She had finished her wine ages ago, content to listen to the hum of partygoers and watch the fire crackle. When she noticed she was alone, she got up and made her way over to Gale’s tent, her stomach swarming with butterflies. She smiled to herself when she first saw him - bathed in silver light from a small conjuration of the portrait of a woman in his hands. A beautiful woman, at that. She couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of jealousy. 

“Pretty,” she said as she walked up behind him, trying to keep her voice cool and collected with no hint of disappointment. 

“Oh! You startled me,” he waved his hand, the illusion disappearing. “Apologies, I was miles away.” An accurate statement. He seemed sad. Distant. 

“Everything okay?”

“Of course, just, uh, just practicing an incantation.” Lies , she thought. 

“Now I don’t know much about magic, but you don’t look at a practice incantation the way you just were,” she teased. “Who was that?” She remembered his confessions from that morning. “Is that Mystra? I didn’t realize you were so devoted, still. After everything.”

He sighed. “Magic is…well it’s my life. I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember, maybe even longer. And Mystra, she is magic. There is nothing like the Weave - it’s music, poetry, the arts all rolled up into one and given expression through the senses. Do you want to experience it? I want to show you. To thank you, for… for everything. Your generosity with magical artefacts, your selflessness in allowing me to remain with our group, your fierceness in battle, pulling me out of that portal. Everything.”

Auroria crossed her arms, though she was touched at his sincerity. “Alright, show me what you've got, wizard,” she smirked, egging him on. “This should be interesting, since magic is so far down the list of things I am good at”

“I have been meaning to ask about that - why do you shy away from utilizing and learning more spells that would enhance your abilities?” He asked. She could feel the curiosity in his voice, as if she was another riddle for him to untangle. Not tonight . 

“That’s a story for another day. Let’s not ruin a perfectly good night of drinking with sad stories.” 

He nodded, “Well then, follow my lead.” He made a series of elegant, well-practiced movements with his arms and hands, pushing them forward at the last, a glowing purple ball erupting from it, sparkling in the dark. “Now you try.”

Auroria shook her hands, trying to ease her nerves, then repeated the movements. She definitely did not look as graceful as he did, clunky and stiff in her actions, but to her surprise, she did it. She felt around her a strange aura - like a kind word and a kind touch were wrapping around her at the same time. She was warm and comfortable. A feeling she wasn’t used to when magic was involved. She looked at Gale, who looked equally as impressed. 

“Excellent, now repeat after me.” An incantation. Lucky for her, he spoke it slowly enough that she was able to retain the syllables and repeat it as well as she could. Not as fluently of course, but a fine effort. She tasted sweetness on the back of her tongue and smelled rosewater in the air. This must be a sliver of the Weave. 

“Now, picture the concept of harmony in your mind, as true a picture as you can.” She nodded, instantly picturing a place of total peace in the middle of a forest high in the canopy. A ribbon of purple light surrounded the two of them. She felt…safe. Auroria looked at Gale, who looked like he may explode with pride. 

“You did it! You channeled the Weave! How does it feel?” He laughed, the light from the Weave bathing him in a faint purple glow.

“Effortless. You are a very good teacher, Gale.” She smiled as he nodded, agreeing with her that yes, he was a good teacher. They both stood there, watching the ribbon of light, taking in the feeling of the Weave. It felt so intimate, as if Auroria were to imagine anything, Gale would be able to see it as if they were one. She looked at him, his eyes widened in awe of what she was able to do, what he was able to teach her in one lesson. His profile illuminated. Gods, what I wouldn’t give to kiss him right now. She imagined standing in front of him and placing a kiss on his lips, tenderly at first, then with growing passion. Wait, no, stop thinking about that. Shit! 

He looked at her “I…I didn’t..think…” he stammered. Auroria realized they really were connected when she felt embarrassment, nervousness, and then…elation coming from Gale. He smiled at her. “I wasn’t expecting that, I’m sorry. But it is a pleasing image to be sure! Most pleasing. Most welcome, in fact.”  

The Weave evaporated. 

“Oh, there it goes,” he said, dejected. “How easily things slip away from us.” Was it the end of the lesson or the end of Mystra’s presence around him making him feel this way? He cleared his throat and put on a gentlemanly air. “Good night, I enjoyed sharing this moment of magic with you.” He smiled as he went back inside his tent, closing the flap.

The night felt colder than it did before she went to Gale’s tent, though whether that was from her own embarrassment or an effect of the magic leaving, she couldn’t say. She went back to her own tent, smiling as she crawled into her bedroll. Gale’s admission that the thought of kissing her was pleasant and welcome running through her mind as her buzz wore off and she fell into a peaceful sleep. 

Across camp, a wizard dreamed of kissing a ranger.

[sabyfangirl]

Chris' Birthday

Summary: For his brother's birthday, Martin decided to take Chris mountaineering on Mount Fuji, only for a little incident to occur...

Note: A little something I've worked on for the green cinnamon roll's birthday.

On a special day, in a special place in Japan, southwest of Tokyo, the sun rose and shone on the Tortuga, the ship looking out on a beautfiful and famous mountain: Mount Fuji.

Knock. Knock.

Chris groaned, the sound bringing him back from the dead of sleep. He started to wriggle and stretch within his cozy, warm haven - his bed.

By the time his eyes were half-opened, he heard the door open, followed by gentle footsteps.

"Mornin' bro," a soft, familiar voice said. Chris sat up, stretching and stifling a yawn.

He looked up to find his brother smiling down at him, a tray in his hands.

"Uh, what's that?" He raised an eyebrow, still feeling groggy.

Martin seemed amused. "What, this?" With a toothy grin, he lowered the tray; a plate full of pancakes put together in a paw shape, syrup running down the sides of the middle tower, accompanied by a glass of juice.

Chris couldn't help but lick the corners of his mouth, eyes widening from unanticipation. "Wow!" He reached out to grap the tray... but paused. "Hey, wait a minute..." He shot Martin a look of suspicion. "This isn't another one of your pranks, is it?" He crossed his arms.

Martin almost burt into laughter. "Heck no!" he chuckled.

"Then, why else would you give yourself the pain to make all this?" Chris asked, wearing a prudent attitude.

"The answer is right behind you." Martin motioned his brother to the calender behind him.

Chris' eyes widened as he realized what day it was. "I can't believe I forgot it's my birthday today!"

"Well, it's a good thing I didn't forget," Martin laughed. "And you say I'm always forgetful."

Chris just rolled his eyes, gladly taking the tray. "Breakfast in bed? Not bad." He wore a smug look on his face.

Martin laughed and made his way out of the room. "Get ready when you're done, I've got something special planned for the day."

Chris nodded quickly, mouth already stuffed with pancake goodness.

Martin walked into the control room, where he found the crew gathering supply for the birthday party.

"Hey, MK," Aviva greeted, arranging a layer of boxes. "I hope Chris is ready for what you have in store for him."

"Oh, he's gonna love it, you'll see," Martin said with confidence and vigour.

"I'm sure he will," Aviva chuckled.

"You're lucky," Koki came up to them, "I've checked the weather; the skies are clear, and you should be able to climb that mountain without problem."

At that moment, they heard the door open.

"Did I just hear the word climb?" Chris walked in, a gleam of eagerness in his eyes.

"Yes, you did!" Martin threw at him a bag full of climbing equipment. "We're gonna climb Mount Fuji!"

"Really?" Chris seemed more excited than ever.

"Yeah, it'll be fun!" Martin grabbed his own bag. "And in the meantime, the gang will be putting together your party."

Chris turned to look at Aviva and Koki, both nodding to confirm Martin's words.

"Yep, you guys go ahead and have fun, we'll take care of the rest," Aviva affirmed, Chris' smile wide and bright.

"We better get going," Martin dragged his brother by the hand, without warning, the younger Kratt almost tripping over his feet.

"Whoa!" Chris yelped, picking up the pace.

And just like that, the brothers disappeared out of sight, leaving the girls sharing amused looks.

"Now, how about this party."

As they walked by the lake of Kawaguchiko, the creature adventurers looked around in astonishment at the beauty of their surroundings; a perfect pink carpet of moss phlox covering the ground, the water glimmering from the sunlight reflecting off its surface, birds whistling and singing all around them. A pulchritudinous sight to see.

Chris took a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh, clean air before exhaling, seeming content.

"This is nice," he smiled, Martin looking at him with a pleased expression. "I can't wait to reach the top of that mountain, I bet the view is amazing!"

"I'm sure it is," the blue Kratt let out with certainty, giving him a friendly pat on the back.

At that moment, a blurry, small form dashed in front of their eyes, catching them by total surprise.

"What was that?!" Chris wore a defensive attitude.

"Hmm," Martin looked up at a tree branch when he heard the sound of chirping. "Chris, look up." He nudged his brother, then motioned at what looked like-

"A yellow bunting!" Chris exclaimed.

The bird had a yellow-green head, brown wings, a yellow belly, narrow white wingbars, and a white eyering. The petit creature looked down at the brothers with curious eyes.

"You can tell it's a male, because the male is brighter in plumage, with a small black patch between the eye and bill," Martin said knowledgeably.

The bird took off, leaving them alone once again.

"Aw, I didn't even get to name him," Martin whined.

"I think it's about time you took a break from naming animals," Chris said teasingly while patting a slightly disappointed Martin on the back, a light chuckle escaping him.

"Oh, you think?" Martin gave him the'very funny' look, yet couldn't help but let out a chuckle of his own.

"I wonder what other creatures we'll stumble upon," Chris said as they carried on marching.

But what they didn't know, however, was that they were being followed...

Back at the Tortuga, the crew was busy preparing for Chris' birthday party. While Aviva was taking care of the decorations, Jimmy was in the middle of making an exceptional cake, being the best out of everyone when it came to baking.

"How's the cake coming along, Jimmy?" Aviva asked, after blowing another balloon.

"Great! Just adding the finishing touches," the ginger guy let out quickly, not taking his eyes off of his "masterpiece" as he handled the frosting, his tongue sticking out of the corner his mouth being a sign of his full concentration.

Aviva couldn't help but admire the effort Jimmy was putting into his task.

Just then, Koki walked up to her, her expression somewhere between worried and skeptical.

"Hey, Aviva, don't you think we should call the bros? You know, to see how they're holding up," she suggested.

Aviva gave her a puzzled look. "Why, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just think we should check on them, I mean you and I know better than anyone what kind of trouble those two can get into," Koki insisted.

Aviva finished tying another balloon, before turning her full attention to her.

"Oh, come on, Koki. Mount Fuji is one of the easiest mountains to climb, even Jimmy can make it to the top!" She paused and turned to find an offended expression on the guy's face. "No offense."

"None taken," the redhead sighed as he returned to frosting.

"I know, it's just-" Koki hesitated for a moment, "I have a bad feeling."

"Like something bad's gonna happen to them?" Aviva raised an eyebrow, her voice softer than before.

Koki nodded her head with a frown.

But before Aviva could say anything else, a sudden roar pierced the area, startling everyone in the room.

Jimmy screetched as he dropped the frosting bag. "What was that?!" he stammered, his body already trembling something fierce.

As quick as a flash, Aviva made her way to the top of the ship, from there she scanned their surroundings; nothing but trees and plants and rocks. A few bugs and birds then and there, but no sign of any creature that could possess a roar of such.

"Do you see anything?" Koki yelled from the control room, still in her same spot, not having moved one muscle.

"No, that creature must've gotten away by now," Aviva made sure that her voice reached her teammates, a hint of frustration hidden in it. "But whatever it was, it didn't sound very friendly," she added to herself, mumbling, eyes narrowing at the unpleasant sinking feeling in her stomach.

After having finally reached the tip of the mountain, the brothers were already ascending the steep inclines, putting their climbing skills to the test.

A couple of hours of mountaineering were enough to suck all the energy out of any person, even with proper conditioning and physical preparation, including the Kratts, despite being known for spending hours, even MONTHS out in the wild; that one time when they joined millions of monorch butterflies in their migration all the way to southwestern Mexico, where they later on decided to hybernate alongside them. That alone would make anybody doubt that a pair of tired Kratts was a possibility, and yet there they were, sweating and panting with each and every rough step, tiny stones rolling down their preceding paths.

At some point, Chris had to stop to catch his breath, squatting with both hands on his lap for support. He looked like he was having anything but fun, while in reality, that was exactly what he was experiencing. Fun. Sure, tiredness and thirstiness, but mostly fun. After all, he was climbing one of the most famous mountains in the world with his brother. He had dreamed of doing so ever since he was a kid, and now that dream was becoming a reality.

"Hey, you good?" Martin came over to him when he noticed he had stopped.

Chris lifted his head to meet his brother's concerned eyes, his expression alleviated with a half-smile.

"I'm fine," the green brother brushed off with a laugh. "In fact, I've never been better."

He straightened up and carefully turned around, getting a breath taking view of the natural scenery, the oldest's eyes following his gaze. Two low whistles escaped both, Chris and Martin, simultaneously, combining into one symbol of pure admiration and awe. Despite being nowhere near the top, the sensation of having made it that far filled them with celebratory satisfaction.

Little did they know, this was only the calm before the storm.

Still contemplating, Chris fished his water bottle out of his bag. As the cool water quenched his thirst, he suddenly heard a heavy, terrifying growl from behind him, Martin too.

They both looked over their shoulders to find...

"MAR-..." Chris gasped, almost crying his brother's name if this one hadn't slammed his hand against his mouth.

"Shh," the older brother signaled, gaining a shaky nod from the youngest, before finally letting go.

Standing a few meters away from them, was a medium-sized black bear; fur the color of a raven's wing, a distinct whitish, creamy patch on the chest, its ears were bell shaped, sticking out sideways from the head, and with a fairly short tail.

The brothers swallowed hard. Normally bears weren't supposed to pose a threat to humans, in addition to the fact that polar bears and grizzlies were by far the most aggressive bears on earth, but the way that black-furry mammal's deep, obscure eyes remained fixated on them, as if seeing right through their souls, told them she wasn't planning on being "nice" to them.

Chris slowly lowered his arm, water bottle still in hand, being the only movement of his frozen body.

They looked at each other from the corners of their eyes, not daring to move their heads, not even one inch.

"Did you bring food?" was the first thing that came out from the corner of Martin's mouth, it felt forced and sounded like a whisper.

Chris panically shook his head, "No."

The beast moved one paw closer, huffing loudly.

"Gah, what does she want from us?" Martin shrieked.

At that, Chris suddenly had the idea of sniffing himself, much to Martin's confusion.

"What are you-"

"I smell like pancake," Chris blurred out under his breath.

Martin turned pale. "Uh oh."

The bear threw another paw, then another...

The brothers took one step back, then another...

Soon, a deadly chase commenced. The bear sharged at them as they both ran different directions, Chris dropping his bottle in the process, but she decided to go after the green Kratt, being the one with the syrup scent.

Martin stopped and turned to find, to his horror, his brother being chased by the ferocious creature.

"MARTIN! HELP!" Chris cried out as he ducked and dodged every attack, the beast hot on his tail.

With panic overwhelming him, the blue Kratt tried to think of a solution for this disaster when he accidentally stepped too close to an edge... He looked down; an idea lit up in his head.

"Chris!"

Chris stole a quick glance at his brother, gesturing to run over to him. Part of him felt unsure, but he trusted his brother. So, he made another swift turn, barely escaping the jaws of the animal, before sprinting at full speed toward his brother, like his life depended on it... which was the case.

With one final jump, he landed in his brother's arms, the pressure of the bump sending them sliding down a very steep incline, so steep that it almost felt like sliding down a wall, before coming to a stop on a platform, only a few centimeters long, stone crumbling beneath them and falling into the abyss.

Baffled and in a total daze, Chris looked up and searched his brother's eyes; he was very shaken.

They both looked up with petrified eyes, only being able to spot a light brown muzzle sniffing around for any sign of life, before it disappeared out of sight.

Just as they thought they were out of trouble, another sound broke the silence, this one of a huge, rolling... BOULDER!

"Quick, take your bag off!" Martin earged, his tone being the definition of trepidation, and Chris didn't hesitate one second, doing as he was told.

They had to make sure all chances of being hit were eradicated, so taking their bags off was the right thing to do at that moment. They had to act fast. It was as though time had stopped, both of them taking their bags off as fast as possible, throwing them into the void before sinking in their forms as much as they could, holding their breaths as if to prepare for a deep dive. And with that, the boulder came falling down, missing their faces by inches; they saw their whole lives flashing before their eyes during those couple of seconds of praubable death.

They breathed heavy sighs as the boulder crashed at the bottom, the sound echoing in their ears. Their heads slowly turned toward each other, fear painting their faces, their lungs heaving badly.

"You okay?" Martin managed, a huge lump in his throat nearly suffocating him.

Chris nodded weakly, "Yeah."

They cautiously slid down to a sitting position, knees reaching their chests, toes at the edge of the platform.

"...What now?" Martin looked out on the same scene from before, only from a lower point of view.

Instead of an answer, Chris held up an object in his hand, waving it with a winning grin.

Martin let out a soft gasp. "You have your creature pod?!"

"Yep."

However, when he took one look at it, his confidence melted away, fear and hopelessness reigning once again.

"Dang it, it's busted!" he complained. It was easy to tell thanks to the huge crack on the screen.

"But we have to try, anyway," Martin encouraged.

Having no other options, Chris went for it. After taking a deep sigh, he decided to leave a message for the team, "Guys, help! We're stuck in the middle of Mount Fuji and we can't go anywhere, please come get us!"

He recorded himself, but at the last sentence, the device died on them.

"Agh," he let out, throwing it from irritation.

"Let's hope they got the message," Martin placed a hand on his brother's shoulders.

"But what if they don't?" Chris spat out, not meaning to sound aggravated. His eyes were intense.

"Chris-"

"I'm climbing out of here!" He stood up swiftly, completely surprising Martin, before throwing a hand in search of anything his fingers could hold onto.

"Chris, no!"

But before Martin could stop him, a loud cry escaped the green Kratt's throat. He quickly held his brother and pulled him back down, Chris holding his right hand tightly, gritting his teeth badly as he fought tears building in his eyes.

Martin then looked down to find the platform they were sitting on rattling from Chris' sudden movement... before quieting down.

He breathed a sigh of relief before turning his attention to his brother, whose eyes were closed shut from visible pain, breathing shakily. His eyes slid down when they landed on his hand; blood. Red crimson was flowing out of a fresh wound in the center of his palm.

If his brother weren't injured, he would've scolded him big time for his reckless choice of action.

"Lemme see," he offered, the youngest reluctantly extending his shaky, hurt hand.

Martin gently took it in his own hands, examining the wound. "Hmm, it's nothing serious..." He sounded reassuring, his voice uncharacteristically calm and gentle.

And with his teeth, he ripped off a piece of cloth from his sleeve, his brother watching with wide eyes, almost forgetting about the pain. Then, he used the fabric as a bandage for the wound, delicately wrapping it around his little brother's hand as he let out a prolonged hiss through his clenched teeth, fingers clawing at his shorts. Finally, he tied it to a knot.

"There."

Chris looked down at his hand, a small smile creeping on his face. He managed a small "thanks" before leaning on his back, sighing heavily.

"I'm sorry," he finally said.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Martin wrapped a gentle arm around him, tone soft and forgiving. "I gotcha."

Chris rested his head on his shoulder, closing his eyes as he allowed himself to relax in his brother's warm embrace, his hurt hand close to his chest. He felt safe, despite the dangerous situation they were in.

"And that's the last of them," Koki let out after hanging the last piece of decoration on the wall, preening herself for her achievement.

Beep. Beep.

She turned on her heels at the sudden noise coming from her computer.

"Hmm."

She walked over before taking her seat, her eyes widening as she realized what was on her screen.

"Aviva?" she called, her voice cracking.

The girl walked up to her. "Yeah, what is it, Koki?"

"I got a message from the bros, and I have a feeling it's not a good one," she sounded too serious for Aviva to question her paranoia.

"Well, let's hear it," she shrugged, not expecting what came next.

"...-help-... -stuck-... -Mount Fuji-... -can't go-... -anywhere-... -get us-..."

The audio cracked as Chris could be seen talking, the screen lagging then and there.

Aviva put her hands to her mouth, both girls gasping in horror.

"And... voila!" Jimmy cheered, finally having finished working on the cake, before jumping at the sudden and unexpected-

"Jimmy, the bros are in trouble, fly the ship over Mount Fuji!" Aviva yelled at him, scaring him half to death.

"I-I'm on it!" He hurried his clumsy self to the pilot room.

"Hang on, bros."

Utter silence, broken only by Martin's melodical whisteling. Even in the middle of a predicament, his enthusiastic nature always took the best of him.

Chris couldn't help but smile at that, still trapped in the same exact embrace from before.

Martin suddenly stopped. "So..."

Chris glanced at him.

"How did you manage to smell like pancake?" Martin laughed. "Did you pour it on yourself or something?"

Chris turned a little red from embarrassment.

"I- uh... Let's just say I'm not the best when it comes to eating manners," he laughed sheepishly.

He heard his brother scoff at the statement.

"...Perhaps a side effect from using the suit too much?" Chris added nervously.

"Nah, pretty sure it's all you," Martin said without hesitance, earning an offended "hey!" from the yougest.

"Okay, I'll admit I did get most of it all over my face," Chris let out admitingly, Martin bursting into laughter.

"Of course, you did."

The sun was slowly disappearing behind the tip of the mountain, alarming them of the fact that it was getting dark soon.

Feeling uneasy at the thought, the brothers hadn't noticed the platform below them starting to crack a bit. They looked down panically.

"Oh, no no no..." Chris muttered, his brother pulling him closer in a protective way.

Just when they thought things were about to get painful for them, the sudden loud sound of a ship pierced the air.

They looked up to find-

"The Tortuga!" they cried at the same time.

"We're saved!" Chris added from overwhelming relief.

The hatch opened and next thing they knew, a ladder was being thrown at them.

"Grab on!" Aviva yelled out.

She didn't need to say it twice.

With his brother's arm wrapped around his shoulder, Martin made a jump for it, one arm around Chris' waist, the other holding onto the ladder for dear life.

In the very last second, the platform fell apart. It was a close one.

That was exactly what happened a few hours ago.

The brother's were back at the HQ, safe and in one piece.

Martin had another sweater on, while Chris got a brand new bandage for his hand.

All four of them - Martin, Chris, Aviva and Koki - were sitting on the edge of the open hatch, gazing at a spectacular sunlight, the sky slowly turning into a majestic sea of lavender and pink, illuminating the nearly perfectly symmetrical mountain, rendering it impossible to get one's eyes off of.

"It sure is beautiful," Martin sighed, everyone humming at his words.

"Make room for me!" Jimmy came over with plates full of cake; two plates in each hand, and the fifth on his head.

The crew laughed as he distributed each plate.

"Thanks, JZ," Koki smiled, the ginger guy sitting right next to her.

"Hey, Chris, how's your hand?" Jimmy tilted his head to see Chris' face.

"It's alright," he gave a thumb up with his good hand, before shoving a spoonful of cake in his mouth.

"Don't choke," Martin teased, receiving a hard nudge, both laughing at the matter.

In an atmosphere full of delight and peace, the sun dove behind the horizon, stuck somewhere between day and night.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRIS!!!

[chococolte]

PLEASE AM BEGGING, HOW WOULD , ZHONGLI, CHILDE, AND HEIZOU 'PROVE THEMSELVES' TO THE CREATOR READER, LIKE WHAT EXACTLY, WOULD THEY GO ON A FULL FLEDGED KILLING SPREE IN THE NAME OF THE CREATOR OR ARE THEY MORE DOCILE AND VANILLA???

U could add characters u might want to write for, but these aee ones u said u have a brain rot for sooo..

Thanks! <3

word count. 1.1k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious & cult themes, sagau + cult au shit, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. man im such a slow writer ☠️ apologies zhongli's is longer than the rest, also im sorry if this isn't exactly what u wanted 😭

zhongli

Zhongli is old, strong like tempered glass. He has endured like the earth; only time has weathered his jagged cliffs and jeweled karsts. He has been strong in preparation of you, holding on when so many times he has wanted to let go.

All he wants now is to serve you. That is his final request, his only demand of you. Just let him take care of you as you are now in your mortal form, until you take to the skies and ascend past what is known. Zhongli desires to worship you at your feet, where he has only imagined himself before. To kneel before you and finally let go of his worldly responsibilities is his only wish.

That you may question his devotion to you is terrifying. All he can do to stop himself from begging at your feet to please let him stay is to dig his nails into the palms of his hands, to assure himself that you must know how much he loves you. How many years he spent worshiping you from afar, how happy he was to feel the light of your control, how euphoric it was to finally see you.

The real you. The one that lived and breathed, the one that laughed and cried. Zhongli imagined the moment so many times until it was ingrained into his head, but it didn't stop him from shaking upon making eye contact. Surely, you know how long he waited for that moment?

That you may doubt him— the mere thought of it sends him into a frenzy, so unlike him. Your thoughts, your perception, your impression of him; your opinion is holy, sacred. If you think he isn't enough, that he's lacking in some form, then he is. Even if he doesn't know why, even if he's never felt so sick before, he will do everything in his power to prove himself to you. If you find him unsatisfactory, or inadequate— he must find whatever part of him you dislike and cut it off.

You don't like the way he brews tea, perhaps? That's understandable. You're his God, after all, and your palate must be refined. His lowly tea leaves could never please you. There has to be a replacement, however? Something you enjoy. Just tell him the name, and he'll go fetch it for you.

Is it his form that you find distasteful? The way he ties his hair, his attire— did you prefer his half-adeptus form, perhaps? He'll happily revert back to it, if you'd like. Do you like women more? That's fine. It's not difficult for him to change his body to fit your preferences.

Did you dislike that he faked his death? If it's your desire, Zhongli will gladly take back the mantle of Geo Archon. His wants are nothing. If you will it so, then so it will be. Rule beside him if you'd like; use him as a puppet ruler, a toy. Your plaything. Whatever you want.

It doesn't matter who he has to hurt, what extent he has to reach. Whatever you ask of him, he will follow without question. He will pick up his blade, sully himself even further; become unrecognizable to anyone but himself.

If he must burn down all of Liyue, so be it. To fall in line beneath your command is his greatest desire.

childe

Childe feels like throwing up.

It doesn't cross his mind that maybe you're the one who's forsaken him. No, he's the one who failed you. He disappointed you in some way, made you upset with him. You don't want him anymore— but that's okay. He just has to work harder, then. He'll push himself until he's weak and withered, until he can finally feel the weight of your gaze again. Until he's worthy enough to bear it.

You are everything. The dazzling stars that flare in the night sky, the whispers of morning dew that brush against his legs. You are his first and final breath, encompassing and overwhelming. To Childe, you are a fire that burns eternally; in the frigid north of Snezhnaya, you are the only source of warmth.

Without you, he is nothing. Childe will go to any lengths to assure his spot by your side. He'll burn any bridges, destroy whatever stands in his way. The Tsarista may have given him purpose, but you gave him life. If it was you who asked, Childe would happily throw his loyalty to the side. Nobody else matters. Nothing else matters. The mere thought of you discarding him is enough to make him sick.

How many have killed for you, like he has? How many have stained their hands until the blood is skin deep, in their vessels and veins? Childe has done so much for you. He's killed so many— soiled his soul, all in your name. Perhaps he should find such an idea distasteful, but he can't find it in him. This is what he has to do to prove himself. To make sure you know he is worthy enough.

Whoever it is he has to kill, whatever beast he has to slay— if you want him to kneel before you and beg on all fours like a dog, he will. If you want him to hurt himself, he will.

Whatever you want. Just don't throw him away.

heizou

Heizou, ever since he has learned of you, has devoted his life to you.

You are the ultimate justice in this world. The only good that exists. You burn away all evil. You share his ideals, his hope for the future. It's only right that he worships you, that he kneel before your light.

It's for this reason that he panics like no other when turned away. You want proof of his devotion? For him to prove himself worthy? So be it. Regardless of the sick feeling in his stomach, of the panic and dread that settles at the bottom of his soul, Heizou will push himself into the deep end.

He will forgo any sense of self that he has. Whatever self-worth he harbors is thrown to the side, desolate and forgotten. None of it matters anymore. You've thrown him away, and he must prove that he's worth to keep.

To become justice, to eradicate all evil: his tenets of self, what drove him forward. Heizou can't find it in himself to care anymore, not like he used to. He'll dirty himself until he's wrapped in sin, suffocating in its abyss, until you reach for him again and heal him of his wickedness.

Heizou will dirty his hands with blood, of the vile and the innocent. Mortality no longer matters, it does not serve a purpose in his actions. It is only whether this is enough for you— it is, isn't it?

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 3

Summary: While his bride is exacting her plans from the very first day in Little Palace, the Darkling finds he has a soft spot for the enemy.

Warnings: sexual references, swearing, angst

Part one // Part two

=================================

The last thing Y/N expected upon waking up was to wake up alone. Spreading out in the bed, she huffed a loose strand of her hair off her face. Narrowing her eyes, she stared up at the canopy with her wicked husband on her mind.

After the way he had acted the night before, she found herself wondering what game he’s playing. They were meant to be married in paper only, yet he seems to have a possessive streak that extends to her as well. A part of her wasn’t sure if he truly had a shred of decency within considering he didn’t take advantage of their marital status, but the other part of her wasn’t easily swayed. That part of her remained defiant as it was forged in a fire the Darkling set. Intentionally or not, his actions have damaged her before they ever even met and she wasn’t very forgiving.

Opening the door, unannounced, strolled in the most beautiful woman Y/N had ever seen. Her long, auburn hair was perfectly styled and framed her face without obscuring an inch of her stunning beauty.

Genya, she realized. Even on the other side of the fold, Y/N knew of the empresses’ tailor.

Large, amber eyes fix on Y/N who slowly sat up. She stared at Genya without shame, admiring her appearance.

“Well, from what the general told me, I expected I’d have more work on my hands.” Genya huffs, her hands on her hips as her lips form a thin line.

“I have nothing wrong with me”, Y/N defends, graciously getting out of the bed that was far too comfy considering who she shared it with. “And where is the general?” Raising her eyebrow, Y/N folded her arms. No matter where he disappeared to, she couldn’t let him wander too far in case he tries to break their agreement and attend a meeting alone.

Humming, Genya didn’t try to hide her curiosity as she looked Y/N up and down. “Are you sure you don’t need my services?”

Glancing at the door, Y/N saw the servants waiting in front for a command. “Leave us”, Y/N waves them off, swiftly closing the door behind them. Her eyes settle on a seemingly startled Genya who cocks her head to the side.

“Interesting. So you do need me?”

Inhaling deeply, Y/N nods. Coming closer, her eyes remain on Genya’s whose gaze drifts at first. Once Y/N stopped before her, their eyes met.

“I need you, but not as a tailor.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Genya steps back. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N licked her lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you hate the emperor and you’d do anything to make sure he never lays a hand on you?”

Genya’s nostrils flare, her lips drawing back between her pearly whites. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m loyal to my emperor.”

“I know”, Y/N reaches for her hand, “I’m saying if your loyalties shifted, I’d make sure that fat fuck died in agonizing pain.”

Yanking her hand out of Y/N’s reach, Genya stepped back with wide eyes.

Gnawing on the inside of her bottom lip, Y/N wished she was more tactful. Hearing of Genya and her fate, she assumed she’d gladly ally with her in this fight. Not only does she need Genya on her side to fight against Kirigan, but the emperor as well. Genya would have been an ideal ally if only she was willing to hear her out. But she should have waited, befriended the Grisha. She should have been more tactful.

“Does the general know of the treasonous plans you speak of?”

Chuckling in disbelief, Y/N shakes her head, “Do you truly believe I’d be breathing if he did?”

Pursing her lips, Genya turned her back on Y/N, contemplating all the possibilities that could stem from her decision.

“It’s a lot, I know, but I am here with a few secrets of my own.” Y/N takes a step closer, her hand clasping Genya’s shoulder as a show of support. “I realize you barely know me, but we can change that now.”

“How?” Genya whispers, more to herself than Y/N who released a shaky sigh.

“By revealing a secret that would be lethal for me if you shared it with anyone.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Genya’s eyes narrowed at Y/N who felt genuine, more than anyone had been since the day she arrived in the Palace. Despite the initial mistrust, Genya nods.

The guards stationed outside of Y/N’s room only heard a loud gasp behind closed doors, unaware that very gasp was a start of a friendship that would define Ravka’s future.

Meanwhile, the Darkling had spent the morning out in the fields. Riding his favorite horse usually served as a way to distract his mind from ongoing worries, but it had no such effect today. No amount of speed or distance could possibly erase the feeling of Y/N’s hand on his body, much less of her body pressing against him.

He behaved as a pious man, an honorable gentleman with self-restrain of a saint. If he could, he’d have taken her without regrets, but he never crossed that line and doing so with a woman meant to be his wife would set him on a path of no return – of true evil.

The Darkling may have done some heinous things, but they were never without reason. If he had done anything against her wishes, he’d be beyond redemption and he couldn’t help but grit his teeth every time he imagined himself losing his mind around her long enough for her to turn him into the villain she sees him as.

Another thing he’s decided to do is break the rule he knew she expected him to uphold – sleeping in separate chambers was the worst thing for them now. He had to be in her bed every night, regardless if she wanted to let him between her legs or not. He wouldn’t force her, that much would be true, but he wouldn’t sleep in his own room anymore. The room they were given last night would be the one he goes to, stumbles to, crawls to, in order to fall asleep beside her. And though it’s a risk as he could easily find himself with his throat cut, he refused to back down.

Dismounting, he headed to the map room where his subordinates waited for further instructions regarding the war.  

“Shall we start?” The Darkling tossed his riding gloves on the desk as he looked at his people. A new face caught his attention, making him do a double take until his dark skies narrowed at her.

“Now that you’ve arrived”, Y/N stands, smiling sweetly. “I believe we can present to you what we’ve discussed while you were off on a joy ride.”

There’s nothing sweet about her, Darkling realizes. Even her smile is coated in honey but laced with poison.

 He licked his lips, “Well, if you want my opinion-“

“I don’t”, she stood her ground, “I have my own.”

Chuckling darkly, he leans forth on the table. His nostrils are flared, his hands gripping the edges until his knuckles turn white. “And what exactly is that?”

“We agreed on having the First army general having a vote in the decision making process as you all do, and since I’m his proxy, I’ve decided you will no longer use humans as canon meat.”

Gliding the tip of his tongue over the inner side of his teeth, he stared at Y/N as if she were made of glass he had every intention on shattering. That would be a mistake – glass is only brittle until it breaks, the shards can cause more damage.

“We will train Grisha to protect humans and humans will use their weapons to protect the Grisha in a more effective manner with the emperor’s gold.”

“Gold?” Kirigan says through gritted teeth as she approaches him, her hands behind her back and he has no doubts she’s stashed a weapon in them and the blue kefta she wore. He’d tell her to take it off and never wear one since she’s but a human, yet as his wife, she was entitled to a kefta. Besides, she looked like a dream in one.

“The emperor agreed to fund the First army’s armory during breakfast”, she smirks, lifting her head up to maintain eye contact.

“Get out”, he grumbles.

Raising her eyebrow, she giggles, “Are you that incapable of admitting I may have opinions and capabilities with potential to do better than the ones you brought before the emperor?” Hardening her gaze, she cups his cheek so tenderly he felt a shiver run down his back. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

“GET OUT!” He turns to the others, watching them scramble to leave before he unleashes the darkness everyone feared. Once the last one left, the door slamming behind them, Kirigan locked his eyes on hers.

“Don’t ever try to get inside my head”, he snarled, slamming her against the door. As his heartbeat echoed in his ears, they stayed there with his grip crushing her wrists, keeping them pinned to the wall.

She didn’t breathe, trying to guess his next move. There was a risk she’d push him over the edge and she quite liked herself in one piece, so she waited – waited for him to move first despite the aching pain in her wrists. Releasing a shuddered breath, her chest deflates.

Finally, his eyes soften as he realizes he might have scared her and while he’d usually triumph, he found no satisfaction in being rough with her. He imagined himself releasing her from his grip, cupping her cheeks and asking for forgiveness, but the way she refused to blink made him unsteady. Yet he whispered still, “It’s too dark for you.”

Squinting, Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line. She easily breaks out of his grasp, shoving him against the wall with her forearm on his chest. Trailing her hand lazily towards his neck, she tightens her grip, lightly choking him. Pulling him down, she stands on her tiptoes as well. Leaning in, her lips brush against his ear; whispering, "Darling, you may wield darkness but you don't know the meaning of dark."

Stepping away, she raised her chin defiantly and he wished he could grasp it and pull her lips to his until her jaw relented and her mouth opened for his. And that’s when he realized – why would he hold back?

Her eyes drifted up to his and she knew his resolve was gone. His lips captured hers in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. There was something gentle about it, regardless of the brute strength he used to push her into the door. She felt the door rattle against her back as he shifted, pressing her into it, taking her face between his hands.

When he kissed her, she felt as if she were losing his mind. She couldn’t comprehend why her hand wasn’t holding her dagger at his neck, or why she allowed herself to moan into the kiss as if he had brought her pleasure.

Every thought she once had evaporated as the darkness of lust drew her in, bending all her rules, stealing the last trembling bit of restraint. She tries to pull away, to stand firm and turn away his affection if she could call it that.

“No”, he whispers, bringing her lips back to his.

And when he kissed her again, she wasn’t sure she wanted her sanity back. She slid her hands under his kefta, wrapping arms around him to press him closer. The low groan at the back of his throat, a small, pleading noise set every inch of her skin on fire.

Opening her eyes, they widen as she notes his are closed as he lost himself in their passionate exchange. A single intelligent thought formed inside her mind, sparking others to appear as well. Playing with fire is her favorite hobby, but this wasn’t a game – not when she was losing.

Pushing against him with all her might, Y/N gasped for breath as he stumbled back. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she narrowed her eyes at him. Lifting her chin, Y/N met his gaze decidedly. After all, she couldn’t avoid her marital duty if she allowed him to kiss her like that. He may not be an old, unattractive, undeveloped man she had imagined in her mind, but Y/N still wasn’t quite keen on giving herself to him. She had kept her maidenhood all those years only to lose it to a man who shall never be more to her than a husband in name only. She’d never love him…she promised herself that. She never broke a promise before and he would not be the one who changes that.

“Don’t touch me”, she spoke through clenched teeth.

He looked at her in surprise. There was hatred in her enchantingly cold eyes, her cheeks flushed red. If possible, her anger made her even more beautiful. Never had he felt such a raging desire.

His hand went around her neck, his thumb digging into the soft flesh. “You are my wife,” he said in a low voice. “You are mine!”

“I believe we have already covered that. I’m not yours and I never will be.” Y/N told him with such spite, such determination that he let her go immediately.

“You’re untouched, aren’t you?” Darkling’s voice softened, his eyes holding more understanding than she liked. Had he acted unreasonably and taken her against her will the night before or now, she’d at least be right about his horrid heart and vile mind…but he didn’t. Instead of being a savage she imaged him to be, he offered her gentle understanding.

“I’m sorry I was rough. I’ll try and be gentler. If you don’t want to go through with this, I won’t force you.” Running a hand across his face, he leaned back on the table. “I want you…really fucking bad, but I won’t take you against your will.” The Darkling sighed as she stared at him with her doe eyes, seeing confusion pass her features.

“Good to know where you draw your line. Murder – good, rape – bad.”

Rolling his eyes, he squinted as he looked at her again, “We can’t sacrifice Grisha for your men.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Y/N could hardly believe he just forgot the kiss they shared. In seconds, he crossed his arms and the lustful look was gone. The man before her was a general once more, and though he tried to hide it, he was still a man who had a hard-on despite the subject change. She wished she could ignore the evidence his blood is still boiling for a touch, more so because he was fucking right – he wasn’t small at all.

“If you keep wasting human lives, we will stop defending yours entirely.”

Raising an eyebrow, his face hardened, “We’ll kill you.”

Scoffing, she raises her eyebrow to mimic him. “It’s you or Volcra or the Druskelle and Fjerdans or Shu. We end up dying either way.” Stepping closer, she folded her hands behind her back. “We can work together and lessen our losses or you can do it your way and have a massacre instead.”

In less than a minute, her eyes turned from ice to flame and he found himself captivated by the change.

“I’ll agree on one condition.”

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. Was that expression fear? The possibility struck him as so humorous he nearly laughed out loud.

“State your terms”, she snapped, refusing to concede when she’s close enough to do something she’s wanted for years – to protect the soldiers used as a shield for those who are perfectly capable of protecting themselves.

“I plan on getting to know you better”, he leaned in closer. He raised his hand, cupping her cheek just as he imagined – tenderly, enough to show dominance but not quite capable of harming her. “If you let me.”

Heart fluttering inside her chest had made her doubt herself. She stared at him, stubborn and unrelenting. “I’m still not sleeping with you.”

Chuckling, Kirigan drops his hand, noticing her relax as he steps back. With a tightness in his chest, he looked back at his wife, so small, so alone and still so fierce. He would never admit it, but he had already a sliver of love for her and knowing she did not had hurt him.

His smile falls and he nods. Clearing his throat, “How about we go for a ride in a few days?” He took her hand in his and gave her a gentle squeeze, looking up at her weary eyes.

“Does that mean I have the bed all to myself?” Raising her eyebrows expectantly, she squeezed his hands right back, as bold as ever. Genya seemed to trust him, yet Y/N couldn’t understand why. He’s too charming to be trustworthy.

Using his grip on her hand as an advantage, he tugged her closer to him and she found herself between his legs as he remained, leaning against the table behind him. His eyes flicker to her lips, “Better find more pillows, my wife. We wouldn’t want you to be the big spoon again, would we?”

With that, he turned them so swiftly, she had barely blinked as he pulled her up on the table and she gasped in surprise. Heart beating fast, she nearly gripped his kefta and claimed his lips, but he leaned in on his own accord and she had no need for brutish behavior.

The tip of his nose brushes hers and just as she begins to lean in, he takes a step back. Winking, he takes another step back.

“If you want a taste, you’ll have to ask.”

Watching his retreating figure in shock, she remained perched on the table with her mouth open and her eyes wide.

Covering her mouth, Y/N shakes her head. Her mind was right, the heart cannot be trusted.

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9​ @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x​ 

PART 4

[remmushound]

2012 casey being friends with 2018 donnie. Just think about it, please.

@assanmaharielsreblogs Casey poked his nose into Donatello’s lab to sneak a peek at the dorky turtle. At least, the turtle was dorky in his world. Here, he didn't know what the turtle was like. All he knew was that April seemed to have some sort of obsession with this Donatello (probably because of the eyebrows) and that couldn’t stand! Not while he was around and had been trying to woo April for years! He wasn’t going to lose her to a mutant turtle from another world, of all things!

“HEY!” Casey puffed out his chest and stomped into the room with a cocky bravery.

Donatello didn't look up from his screen, his three-fingered hands working a mile a minute on codes Casey didn't bother trying to decipher. “Hello, genderbent Cass who doesn’t live here nor sleep in this room.”

“I…” Casey was at a loss for a moment, an exhale making the exaggerated size of his chest fall back to normal as the cogs in his brain stuttered. “I have something to say to you, mister—!”

He walked up to Donatello and pointed an accusatory finger in his direction, but when Donatello stood up, the young human quickly flinched away.

“Oh god you’re taller than I expected.”

Donatello raised a painted-on brow and motioned to Casey with a bored expression on his face.

“And what, dear knock-off Jones, do you have to say to me?”

For a moment, Casey truly forgot why he was there. Come on! He told himself, this is Donnie! Sure, this version was taller and calmer (and frankly hotter) but it was still a Donnie! And no man of the Jones family would be afraid of some dorkish, sewer-dwelling mutant!

“Now you listen here, foureyes!” Casey shoved his finger in Donatello’s face. “April is my girl! Not yours!”

“Okay.” Was Donatello’s only response.

“Okay?” Casey repeated with a frustrated growl, “That’s all you have is an ‘okay’?!”

“What do you want, exactly?” Donatello crossed his arms.

“What I want is for you to leave April alone!”

“Alright.” Donatello shrugged and sat back down in his chair, immediately getting back to work as if nothing had happened.

“Wait, really?” Casey’s voice fell to a soft whisper as he didn't know what to do.

“Sure.” Donatello shrugged, “Don’t really care for your April much, anyway.”

“Hey-” Casey started to growl a warning.

“Don’t get your hockey pucks in a twist. I’m not interested your April.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I couldn’t care less if she or anyone else is interested in me, because I’m not interested in them. Unless their name is Atomic Lass, at which point I would gladly settle down and have three point five kids, any questions?” He said the last part so fast that Casey could hardly keep up.

“I have several.” Casey raised his hand.

“You get one.”

“Okay.” Casey took a moment to decide in his head which question to ask, before he finally pointed beyond Donatello, “Is that a jetpack?”

~~~~

“WAHOOOOOOO!” Casey didn't care that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. It was fun, and that was all that mattered. The freezing wind buffeting his face, the feeling of weightlessness. Nothing beneath his feet— nothing to support him apart from the purple jetpack strapped securely to his back.

Donatello zoomed after him with far more skill and prowess than the young human, but with no less free-willed enjoyment as they flew around the skies of new york.

“THIS IS AMAZING!”

Casey gave a surprised shout and laughed as he flipped over awkwardly, and Donatello flew over to easily right him.

“Ohhhhh!” Casey looked down and his body gave a dangerous shudder at how high they were.

“Careful.” Donatello drifted past him casually, “If you get sick up here, it might reach terminal velocity by time it hits the ground.”

“Wait, really?”

Donatello narrowed his eyes. “No. But we will have a very angry vomit-covered New Yorker on our hands.”

“Oh.”

“And nobody wants that.” Donatello crossed his hands behind his head as he flew, “If you think flying is cool, then just watch this— oh, and don’t try to copy it or we’ll have to scrape you off the pavement.”

The wings of Donatello’s jetpack retracted and the turtle fell with a scream of Fibonacci! His body naturally positioned into a dive, as if jumping from a board into a pool. Casey watched Donatello closely and roared cheers of encouragement at the daring fest, but when Donatello just kept falling with no signs of starting to pull up, Casey couldn't help the anxiety that grew in his chest. Halfway down, and further still. Lower than birds flew, and lower than buildings. Just as Casey was about to brace himself for an imminent impact, Donatello started to grow once more as he pulled up just before hitting the ground and accented in seconds

Donatello was back where he started in no less than two heartbeats. He shot past Casey and even higher than the Jones as he gave a whooping cry.

“And that’s how you do it Hamato-style babyyy!”

“Dude!” Casey flew higher to meet him, “That was wicked cool!”

“Well, I don’t like to brag— oh, who am I kidding? Yes I do! Praise me!” His eyes shimmered with excitement as he beamed and stared straight into Casey’s eyes.

“My Donnie could never be this cool.” Casey laughed at how adorable Donatello was with his pleading eyes. “He’s too busy trying to impress April to do anything like this! He makes charts and everything!”

“Hey, never discount the power of charts, my black-eyes fellow. They can be very useful. Though I must admit that Simp Me is rather disappointing.”

Casey almost choked on his spit as he laughed, clutching his stomach as his sides came into stitches.

“I mean, with a mind as big as a Donnie’s, why would he use it to impress a girl of all things? Seems kinda obsessively creepy, yeesh.” Donatello shivered.

“Well, he may be creepy, but you’re pretty cool, Dee.” Casey gave Donatello a playful punch on the shoulder as he annunciated the nickname in a teasing tone

Donatello brushed his shoulder off, but the smile on his face betrayed his enjoyment at the touch. “And you’re tolerable, Jones.”

[no-other-words]

Just a Bit Closer

Synopsis: Xie Lian suggests taking a relaxing dip in the pond. Hua Cheng slightly freaks out. Rated T | 3400w | canon-divergent, fluff, domestic, slight angst [ Read on AO3 ]

Never again will he be so bold. His Highness follows a path of virtue. His Highness is to be untouched. His Highness—

“San Lang?”

Hua Cheng snaps his head up. Xie Lian’s attention is fully on him, his face half-curious half-amused. He hasn’t been aware that his hands were rolled into fists until now.

“It’s only a bath.”

His Highness is requesting him to bathe with him.

Hua Cheng gulps. He may be a ghost king, but he is not equipped to face this challenge.

---

Hua Cheng has endured much throughout his life.

As a child, love was an alien concept and no friend of his when endless beatings and hate had accompanied him. He’s worn battle scars that no young man’s body should ever had to receive. Wars had been waged against godly figures from the depths of Mount Tonglu to the skies of the Heavenly Court. His soul has died again and again for the anguish that had ceaselessly pierced his one person—yet it is also his soul that lives again and again and refuses to fade.

Hua Cheng is a Devastation, a ghost king, one of the Four Calamities, if not the strongest. His very name demands unwavering respect and brings even the strongest of martial gods to their trembling knees. He’s been through a lot but not one of his past challenges can come close to this.

In just a thin layer of white robe, Xie Lian stands in the middle of the pond. He’s pouring another bucket load of water over his head, completely unaware of the silver allure cast upon him by the soft of the moonlight. His under-robe does nothing to hide the rosy peaks of his hardened nipples, peeking from underneath.

It goads Hua Cheng for a little contact, a little taste.

Long locks of wet hair stick to his skin, drawing out the slender curves down his neck and bony ridges of his collarbones. A few stray strands wound up over Xie Lian’s lips and it reminds Hua Cheng of their kiss in the lake. Their first and most likely the only kiss. The one he bravely stole in the heat of the moment when all he’d meant to do is give Xie Lian a little help.

Necessary on Xie Lian’s part, completely out of line on Hua Cheng’s. He’d let his worst part get to him at the expense of His Highness’ comfort. It’s obvious from Xie Lian’s reaction—a boundary had been crossed that left the martial god catatonic to the point where he had to lie to get away from the situation. The only redeeming hope had been from within Qiandeng Temple, where Xie Lian had thankfully taken to its charm.

His eyebrows pinch and he looks away.

Never again will he be so bold. His Highness follows a path of virtue. His Highness is to be untouched. His Highness—

“San Lang?”

Hua Cheng snaps his head up. Xie Lian’s attention is fully on him, his face half-curious half-amused. He hasn’t been aware that his hands were rolled into fists until now.

“It’s only a bath.”

His Highness is requesting him to bathe with him.

Xie Lian moves to the bank. The closer he gets, the lower the water level around his body becomes and reveals a shapely waist perfect for grabbing onto. Once again, that good-for-nothing under-robe does the opposite of what it’s meant to do and only serves to feed Hua Cheng’s tainted, invasive mind. The translucent material, wet to the core, plasters nicely against Xie Lian’s skin, emitting a pale pink hue.

Hua Cheng gulps.

He may be a ghost king, but he is not equipped to face this challenge.

It had started with a simple question.

“Do ghost kings not take baths?”

Hua Cheng paused mid-sweep and looked back at Xie Lian curiously. They’d been fixing up Puqi Shrine and cleaning the grounds, after leaving it unattended for several days when they went off to catch a runaway fetus spirit. Things were winding down for the day, with Lang Ying washing dishes after a not-so-successful meal and Guzi put to sleep.

“N-not that I mean anything by it! I was just thinking, how we ran around all over the land recently and we just spent a whole day cleaning the shrine, and I haven’t seen you gone washing since.” Xie Lian stopped to reflect. “I suppose there aren’t suitable places around here to properly do so.”

Hua Cheng pulled a small smile and continued to sweep away the last of leaves into a corner. “Gege needn’t worry to justify his questions. Any curious thoughts arise, this San Lang will gladly answer. I don’t know about the other ones and I don’t care to, but this one does well to remember to be clean. It would be an offence not to.”

He faltered and quickly added, “Does gege think this San Lang is filthy? I will—”

“Ah no! Like you said, it was just a curious thought” Xie Lian says. His eyes then sparkled, caught bright under the gleam of moonlight. “How about we take a dip in the pond nearby? It’s a nice little spot I found not so long ago, with a waterfall. The night is still early. I’m sure it’ll help expel the last of the adrenaline from our recent voyage.”

Which is how Crimson Rain Sought Flower has found himself in this current predicament.

Much to Hua Cheng’s dismay, it doesn’t really expel much. If anything, it invites more adrenaline and that is not what he needs right now. To be so close, in the intimate space of such private practices—Hua Cheng calls upon the 800 years of learned patience and discipline.

Xie Lian is still waiting for him. “Something the matter? I promise, this time there are no demon babies in the water.”

“…I’m dirty.”

“That’s the point, San Lang.”

That unassuming smile graces his face, as ethereal under the night sky as the time when Hua Cheng pulled him out of the lake in rescue.

How can he say no to his god?

He feels an excited trembling at his side and Hua Cheng looks down to see E’Ming wiggling to get out. A soft chuckle runs through the air.

“See? Even E’Ming wants a wash.”

Hua Cheng slaps his weapon in annoyance. “Ignore it, gege. This thing just wants to play.”

As if Hua Cheng had said a magic word, the silk band around Xie Lian’s wrist slithers itself free and gently glides towards him. Without warning, Ruoye grabs him by the waist and tugs him into the pond. Hua Cheng surfaces just in time to hear Xie Lian laugh. It’s music in the making and he hopes to hear more of it for the rest of his time.

“Looks like Ruoye wants to play too,” Xie Lian teases.

E’Ming responds by unsheathing itself and splashing water towards the white ribbon. The two sentient weapons go at it nearby, chasing frantically at each other in an almost comic-like scene. It comes to a quick pause when E’Ming casts a rather large wave of water right in Xie Lian’s direction and Hua Cheng blocks the attack with his arm.

The demon lord shoots his weapon a cold killing look. Xie Lian meanwhile tugs on an assailing Ruoye and reminds all three of them, “gentle”.

Reprimanded, E’Ming and Ruoye calm down and go off to find other ways to play. Xie Lian then turns his attention back to Hua Cheng. “San Lang, will you hand me your robe? It’s gotten dirtied from all the chores today. I’ll wash it together with mine.”

If Hua Cheng still had a beating heart, it’d be skipping out from his chest. But he doesn’t and it’s a momentary reminder of the many boundaries he mustn’t cross over. He stands unmoving, a good distance from Xie Lian.

“Is Your Highness suggesting that he wishes to see this San Lang strip? That is quite a bold request.”

“Your outer robes, San Lang! No teasing, please.”

“This one wouldn’t dare.”

Nevertheless, Hua Cheng takes pride in observing the red flush on Xie Lian’s cheeks. Rosy and heated, it’s a gorgeous contrast to his pale white skin. He often wonders what other things can make Xie Lian blush like that. A simple touch on his neck, a nip at his ear, perhaps a kiss on his—

He stops. Stop stop stop. His Highness would not appreciate these inappropriate thoughts.

His Highness, who is currently scrubbing his clothes, as if it’s not a baseless and undeserving task for a martial god to do. He does it so earnestly, as he does with everything else. Xie Lian’s eyebrows scrunch with concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out from habit. Hua Cheng quietly watches, peeking under his arms as he lathers soap into his hair. This is a treasured moment not to be missed.

“It’s not the grand bathhouse I’m sure San Lang has in his manor, but I find this spot to be very relaxing,” Xie Lian says in a soft tone. “Hidden astray from the main road, not a lot of villagers know of its location. Nature is untouched here and it helps me ground myself.”

“My bathhouse is nothing compared to this. If gege wishes, I can build a fence around the area. Prevent outsiders from trespassing.”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian chortles, “if people pass by, they pass by. If they don’t, they don’t. This place isn’t mine. None of it is, even Puqi Shrine. I’m merely borrowing the land from which the earth has gifted me.”

Hua Cheng sneaks a loving smile. He’s always admired this side of him.

After one final dunk in the water, Xie Lian wrings both their now-cleaned robes dry and drapes them over a low-hanging branch. He gives the red robe a long look, contemplation washing over.

“San Lang, if I may brazenly ask…”

Hua Cheng halts his scrubbing to give the man his full attention.

“Earlier when you said…it would be an offence…to whom would it be an offence?”

It takes several words out before Xie Lian flutters his gaze up to Hua Cheng, already bashful from making such an inquiry. But once Hua Cheng catches his eyes, he does all he can to hold them. He wills them not to look away, yearning to convey all the feelings locked inside. The fires, the bliss, the ten thousand words he’s thought up to say in the past eight hundred years. All the little tingles of emotions bottled up and will continue to be so for he has a beloved and that beloved cannot know.

Hua Cheng tilts his head slightly forward and softens his gaze. “Someone very important.”

A short moment of silence pass before Xie Lian hums in understanding. He grabs hold of the wooden bucket, floating forgotten nearby, and returns to his own washing.

“San Lang is a very earnest person.”

Only for his one god.

“Gege is not going to question further?”

“Whatever San Lang is willing to tell me, I will listen with gratitude. I trust you have your reasons.”

Hua Cheng purses his lips, not knowing what to do with this level of trust. So he dunks his head underwater and scrubs harshly at his hair. He’s determined to get all the dirt out. All that filth that sticks to him like a parasite, refusing to leave this place that Xie Lian considers his haven.

Get out. Get out get out get out. His Highness, in all his lack of self-preservation, has invited a Devastation for a private bath and all he wants to do is touch and feel and be close, so so close with him. Patience is his forte – it’s something he’s nurtured in the past centuries but there are moments of weakness. Moments like this when he cannot contain himself and wish he can kiss gege again.

Be a thief and steal another piece of bliss.

Hua Cheng lifts his head out, a thick curtain of black hair fall around his face. He’s done now, all necessary washing complete. He should get out of the pond and wait by the sidelines.

A warm hand places on his shoulder. Hua Cheng startles at Xie Lian’s sudden closeness.

“San Lang, that is not how you wash your hair,” Xie Lian chides, a slight pout to his displeased face. “You must treat it gently else you can get knots like that. Here, let me.”

Xie Lian pulls him towards the small waterfall in the corner, leading a winding path so they stay on a shallow path. Hua Cheng lets himself be turned around and a second later, feels gentle combing down his hair. He lowers himself to a kneeling position so Xie Lian doesn’t have to tip toe.

Somewhere in the depths of his chest, a ghost heart beats.

Here, under the lull of the waterfall and vigil of the moon, a god washes his follower’s hair. The consistent rhythm of Xie Lian’s fingers massaging soap on top of his scalp and combing through his hair length brings a soothing pleasure. It is here that Hua Cheng braves to think that once again, Xie Lian is okay with his touch.

“My mother used to brush my hair while I bathed.”

Somehow, Hua Cheng can imagine an overindulged young prince melting under his Empress Mother’s loving attention, just as he’s so lucky to be experiencing the same.

“Am I currently as well-behaved as gege was back then?”

Xie Lian answers with a light chuckle, “very. In fact, I was more of a troublemaker. I’d often want to go swimming and try to wiggle out of her grasps. Mother was always too lenient.”

“With good reason, I’m sure. Gege was a beloved son—” Hua Cheng stops, not wanting to bring up unsavoury memories, and quickly corrects himself. “And must have been very adorable in his mother’s eyes.”

His hair is tugged playfully. “Cheeky San Lang.”

Fingers run along his hairline, gently pulling back to catch every strand. When the same hand moves down to his ears and brushes against the outer skin, Hua Cheng shivers in delight. It feels like something forbidden, one he gladly welcomes. No one has ever come this close in contact and Hua Cheng resolves from here on out that only Xie Lian will have the privilege.

Washing turns to a pleasant session of grooming. Hua Cheng’s sure his hair is more than clean but he stays quiet in favour of Xie Lian’s touch. His eyes drift to a lazy close, the peace creeping up on him so sneakily that he almost misses Xie Lian’s murmurs.

“I don’t…I rarely reminisce on old memories, especially ones involving my parents. They were from so long ago.”

An image of the Xianle Empress flashes in Hua Cheng’s mind. She’d been looking worryingly over him, from that time when he’d been rescued from Xie Lian’s bastard cousin.

“Then San Lang is very happy that gege is sharing a piece of his memory with him.”

He’s rewarded with a final stroke of his hair before he’s pulled towards the waterfall.

“Come, rinse. Stand under here, the water is not that heavy.”

Hua Cheng dutifully complies, happy under Xie Lian’s full attention and care. When the waterfall hits him, he tips his head slightly back and feels the suds slide down his hair. He hums in pleasure.

“Gege is right, this is very relaxing.”

Hearing no response, Hua Cheng opens his eyes. Xie Lian is wearing a dazed look, his eyes round and staring at him almost in a trancelike state. Lips slightly parted, as if in shock after discovering something unexpected.

“Your Highness?”

That seems to shake Xie Lian out of his stupor. He swiftly looks away, a nervous smile slapped on to hide the quiver in his voice.

“Ah—sorry. You’re done. Clean now…I’ll leave you. Give you priva—ah!”

Xie Lian slips on a rock in an attempt to quickly turn away. Instincts take over and Hua Cheng moves to catch him by the waist, his arm holding firm.

“S-San Lang…”

Only when Hua Cheng registers that Xie Lian is safe and away from immediate harm that he notices their close proximity. Senses become hyperaware towards the man in his embrace—the heat emitting from Xie Lian’s stuttered breathes, the pounding of his very alive heart, the skin…

Oh the warm hot skin that sends tingles through every cell currently in contact with Hua Cheng. Only a mere thin material stands between them and it’s oddly erotic to feel the cold wetness. Hua Cheng flexes his arm and watches in satisfaction the way Xie Lian jumps. His muscles feel both hard and soft under his hold and Hua Cheng would like nothing but to memorize the ridges and curves.

“San Lang, I’m—I’m cold.”

This time, he’s barely whispering.

Hua Cheng takes mercy and slowly unwraps his arm around Xie Lian and steadies the man. “Gege, be careful.”

He receives no response but he doesn’t need to. That bright red blush on his face is enough to lift the heavy weight off his chest and unchain the shackles that has settled over ever since the time when Xie Lian scrambled away their kiss. Perhaps this is different.

Hua Cheng finishes rinsing himself under the waterfall, glancing over at Xie Lian from time to time making sure he’s alright. The god seems to be back to a normal state, no longer moving in jerky ways. They’re alright. It’s going to be okay.

He can stay by His Highness’ side for just a bit longer.

When time comes for them to wrap up, Hua Cheng grabs both of their outer robes from the branch. It’s still rather damp but better than having no covering on. Which…would be quite a problem because Xie Lian’s slowly getting out of the water, not even at all mindful of the obscene display he’s putting on.

Hua Cheng blames that under-robe once again. It molds perfectly to Xie Lian’s wet skin and paints a pretty pink picture of his naked body underneath. Hua Cheng accidentally catches sight of a rather perfectly-round bottom before looking away. Thick clouds roll over the moon, dampening any source of light. At least there is some protection to Xie Lian’s virtue by the night’s shadows.

But imagination doesn’t discriminate, not to a ghost king’s mind and definitely not to a cursed weapon with a cursed eye.

E’Ming jumps at the sight of Xie Lian, joyous to see its master’s beloved come up to the shore and even more so to see him…in that state. It does a shuddering whirl before launching itself at the man.

Hua Cheng makes a displeased sound and is about to snap his fingers when Ruoye whips around E’Ming and covers its red eye. The two weapons wrestle a short while before the scimitar gives and compliantly calms.

Hua Cheng huffs. Damn thing will have a beating later as punishment for even thinking of peeking.

Their walk back to Puqi Shrine is short but sweet. Now without the bright moon, there isn’t much light for Xie Lian to see. Luckily, Hua Cheng’s silver butterflies illuminate their path and the two take to an extra slow pace.

“They’re so lovely,” Xie Lian comments with a soft smile, a warm husk to his tone. He lifts a finger that a bold butterfly has landed on and watches its wings open and close. “I’ve seen them in action, but they’re so gentle and beautiful and—and…enchanting!”

Hua Cheng gives a teasing voice. “Gege, stop. San Lang can only take so many compliments in a day.”

“The butterflies, San Lang.”

“Oh? I guess I am none of these words that gege commends on.”

Xie Lian pauses and turns his attention on him. “That’s not what I mean! I said—well…San Lang is also gentle. And lovely.”

The smile on the ghost king’s face is ever-growing.

“Anyways! That was quite refreshing, right? I can already feel my muscles relax.”

He, too, can feel Xie Lian’s muscles. Hua Cheng’s fingers wiggle on impulse and he quickly brings his hands behind his back.

“Gege’s suggestions are always the best. I am at my cleanest state.”

Xie Lian laughs and the butterflies flutter to the musical cadence. One floats near Hua Cheng and he reaches to gently play with it. His hand grazes Hua Cheng’s shoulder and the latter promptly looks at Xie Lian, searching for any signs of discomfort.

None. Xie Lian is unaffected.

The butterflies grow more daring by the second and surround the god in an illuminating circle. He in turn gives every butterfly a chance of contact with his hands and hums in delight.

Hua Cheng relishes in the sight before him.

Perhaps it’s okay to be this close. Perhaps even in a way Hua Cheng hasn’t dared to think of before. And someday…maybe someday he can show His Highness just how close he desires to be.

---

a/n: somewhere between these paragraphs, dianxia drops the soap. cue shower-sex scene.

[seanbeansimp59]

Foreigner’s God

Pairing: Zeus x reader Type: S M U T. This is smut. 100% complete smut. Hold on to your butts. Summary: You meet a strange man on top of the Empire State Building who claims to be a god. Warnings: THERE IS SEX GUYS. I’M SERIOUS. Word Count: 3.5k

Notes: Okay, so this is my first time completing and publishing a smut fic, so I’m sorry if it’s a bit too something. I wrote this for @yerevasunclair just to get some Zeus thirst out of my system. I hope you enjoy!

Storm clouds rumbled high above the climbing towers of New York City, blotting out the stars. The air was electric, the night full of promise, and the 102nd floor of the Empire State Building seemed as good a place as any to watch the storm play out. Shoes thudding against the metal floor, I made my way to the edge of the platform, leaning on the railing to gaze across the sea of flickering lights as the din of honking cars floating up high into the sky. Just another night in New York City, I thought to myself.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

The voice jerked me from my reverie, and I turned to see a man in a suit standing off to my left, watching the mayhem below us. I hadn’t even heard him come up on me.

“Chaotic, more like,” I replied, looking back to the city.

“Yes, but beautiful. Sometimes even the most disordered things can be simply magnificent.” His voice sounded like honey, deep and soothing, and I found myself to be quite intrigued.

“True enough,” I conceded with a smile. “Beautiful chaos—that’s New York for you.”

“You’re not from here, are you?” He turned his gaze to me, and I felt my knees weaken. His eyes bored into me with such intensity that my stomach turned a somersault. God I could get lost in his eyes, if only he’d let me.

“How do you know?”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his face. “Call it intuition.”

“Intuition it is, then,” I chuckled. “You must tell me, who are you, oh wise and intuitive one?” It was more than a little teasing and I wondered how he would react.

This time, his lips split into a full grin and he took a step towards me. “Forgive me for failing to introduce myself. I am Zeus, king of the gods, lord of the lightning and storms above.” He took my hand in his big one and brought it delicately to his lips, sending shivers through my body. “At your service.”

“Zeus?” I was no stranger to Greek mythology, but I was loathe to believe them. They were fairytales, bedtime stories, light reading material even, but certainly not truth. Maybe his parents were odd and named him after a god, but that didn’t explain the rest of his introduction. King of the gods, lord of the lightning and storms above, he’d said. Why would someone introduce himself like that? I was skeptical, to say the least.

My hand still brushed against his mouth when he spoke. “Yes, I am Zeus. And you are?”

Gathering myself, I responded. “Y/n. I’m y/n, although I’m afraid I don’t have the grandiose title that you do. Where’d you come up with that anyway? Your parents Greek mythology nerds or something?”

To my surprise, he looked a bit offended. “My parents are Kronos and Rhea, makers of the Earth.”

I scanned his face, looking for the slight twitch of a smile or a twinkle in his eye to indicate he was joking, but to my shock, he was dead serious.

“So, you’re actually Zeus. Like, old guy with white hair, fathered Hercules, carries a lightning bolt Zeus.” I looked him over with a raise of my eyebrow. “No offense, but you don’t look like you’re several thousand years old.”

“You don’t believe me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “I mean you no offense, sir, but it’s a bit difficult to believe. Greek myths are, well, myths. They’re just some old Greek guys trying to come up with an explanation for how the world got here. I mean really, birthed from your father’s head? That’s not even remotely how anatomy works.” I smiled and withdrew my hand. “It’s a cool name and all, just forgive me if I’m not a believer.”

He cocked his head slightly and quirked his eyebrow. “Could I make you believe?”

That caught me off guard. I wasn’t certain what kind of drugs this guy was on, but he seemed deadset on convincing me, so I figured what the hell, I’d give him a shot. Didn’t hurt anything, right? Besides, his presence was positively intoxicating. For some reason, I felt like I couldn’t leave, even if I wanted to go.

“I mean, you can try?”

He perked up a bit and took my hand again, leading me to a different corner of the platform. His eyes seemed to spark with excitement, and he winked at me. “Watch this.”

I shrugged my shoulders and crossed my arms. If you’d told me that at exactly 11:14 pm this evening, I’d be standing on the Empire State Building with some Greek god wannabe as he tried to prove his godship, I would have laughed at you. However, at exactly 11:14 pm on this night, I was standing on the Empire State Building watching a guy named Zeus try to prove he could control the storm. Life is absolutely insane, I thought to myself with a chuckle. At least it was interesting.

He let go of my hand and turned to face the storm clouds, extending his hands to the skies. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and roared a single word into the blackness. “Hupakoé!”

Instantly, a loud clap of thunder shook the building, ringing in my ears and rumbling in my bones. I barely heard him shout again as another thunderclap shattered the air around me and a streak of lightning split the sky like a knife. “Entole, ouranós zóopoieó!” The clouds opened and rain began to pour forth, pelting the platform and leaving me soaked. Wind began to whistle through the metal grates, causing them to rattle and clatter in a terrifying racket. In the middle of the mayhem stood Zeus, head tilted back to the skies, rain washing over him, body seeming to pulse as lightning danced around him. He was alive and reveling in the power of this moment, and I was completely in awe, any and all doubts gone from my mind. This was Zeus, king of the gods, lord of the lightning and storms above, and I trembled before him.

“Pauó.”

The storm ceased its fury just as quickly as it had begun. The thunder growled lightly, and the lightning faded, the rain calming to a drizzle and the wind to a whisper. Wordlessly, he turned to me, his eyes slowly coming to meet mine as a smug smile crept over his face. A few steps brought him to stand before me, his hand cupping my face as he brushed the pad of his thumb over my rain-wet lips. “Do you believe me now?”

I couldn’t find the words to speak, so I simply nodded. His honeyed voice made me weak in the knees and his intense gaze made heat pool in my belly. I was putty in his hands, and he was fully aware.

“Who am I?” His voice was rough and husky, threatening to undo me.

I wet my lips and spoke, hearing my voice trembling. “You are Zeus, king of the gods, lord of the lightning and the storms above.”

“And as a god, am I not deserving of worship?”

My heartbeat sped up and my body began to throb at the meaning behind his words. “Only the most devout, my king.”

“Whose duty is it to worship, my dear?” His hand slid to my hair, tangling a bit among the dripping strands.

“It is the duty of the believer.”

Slowly, he leaned forward until his lips just barely brushed my own, his forehead pressing to mine as he closed his eyes.

“Then kneel.”

And so, I did.

His hand helped guide me to my knees, powerful fingers weaving into my hair as I knelt before him. With his other hand, he began to unfasten the buckle of his belt and I helped him undo its bindings. The pants of his suit were already tight around his bulge and I nuzzled my cheek against his hardness. Deftly, my fingers undid the button and the zipper, smiling when I heard the low growl bloom in his chest and felt it echo in my throbbing sex. He was magnificent, gazing at me with a look of fond adoration. He was a god I would gladly worship.

I hooked my thumbs under the waistband of his pants and pulled, bringing them below his bulge in a single movement. My heartbeat thrummed in my ears and pulsed in my veins as I ran a cupped hand over him through the light fabric before pulling his undergarments down alongside his pants.

“Like what you see, love?” His voice was a deep, breathy rumble against my ears and the hand in my hair pulled my head up to look into his eyes.

My eyes were wide as I met his gaze. “Like what I see?” I licked my lips and looked back at his erection. “I am in awe, my king.”

“Then show me, darling. Show your king how much you adore him.”

Soundlessly, I wet my lips, flicking my tongue out to taste the tip of his cock. It was velvet and salty, and the musk of his arousal flooded my senses. My eyes flitted up to his, and I began to pepper the head with little kisses and kitten licks, bringing soft noises of approval and pleasure from his lips. Pulling back, I spit into my palm, wrapping my fingers around his shaft and pumping him as I took the head of his cock into my mouth. His hand tightened again, clenching roughly as he whispered my name like a song. Quickly growing tired of my tenderness, his hips rutted forward into my mouth, but I pulled my head off, pressing a gentle kiss to his thigh.

“My king, should my worship not be slow and reverent?” I kissed his shaft, feather-light. “You are deserving of only the sweetest praise, yes?”

He growled lowly and nodded, loosening his grip on my head. “Slowly then, darling. Worship your king.”

Those words sent shivers all the way to my groin. Turning my attention back to him, I continued to work my hand on his shaft, twisting lightly as I moved. My tongue trailed up the underside of his length, laving a wide, wet path up his girth. His cock twitched as I came to rest on the tip, cupping it with my tongue, sliding back and forth ever so slowly before taking the length of him into my mouth. He replied in tandem, his hands flexing in my hair, murmuring little words of praise to me. “Y/n,” he crooned, tilting his head back in ecstasy as I bobbed my head, hollowing my cheeks around him and dragging my lips up and down his shaft.

With a little pop, I pulled him from my mouth, grinning up at him before diving down again, taking him hungrily into my throat and gagging slightly as I pushed him deeper. He gave a little cry of surprise and pleasure, a moan of “yes, that’s good” as I moved my head on him before pulling back, a thick strand of saliva hanging between my lips and his cock. Licking my lips, my gaze wandered up to meet his, half-lidded with unbearable lust.

“Up,” he commanded.

I rose so quickly I nearly fell, and no sooner had I stood than his hand was around my waist and his mouth was crashing against my own. Our hands were roaming frantically, over his back, up my shirt, into his hair, grabbing my breast. His teeth nipped at my lip and I whined, opening my mouth slightly to feel his tongue caressing my own. I never wanted to stop kissing him, tasting his lips, getting drunk on his mouth, but eventually he pulled back, leaving both of us panting for breath. Without hesitation, his mouth began to move down my neck, licking and kissing and nipping and sucking, and I felt him smiling at the noises that left my reddened lips.

“Zeus,” I breathed as he sucked a bruise against my skin. The name was a prayer on my lips, filthy and broken, but a prayer, nonetheless. For one night, I’d gladly be a pagan of old, down on my knees to worship this foreigner’s god, crying his name to the skies he controlled and singing his praise as he took my offering. And Hera be damned, she could have my soul if she wanted. Feeling those hands gripping my ass and his mouth biting sharply at my collarbones was enough to make me accept any punishment she would give. Zeus was mine for the moment, and it was my sacred duty to worship him with everything I was. He demanded a sacrifice, and I was all-too willing to fall upon his altar and offer my body to slake his need.

Powerful hands were sliding to the front of my body, dragging my pants down around my knees and practically tearing my panties to rest alongside them. A sharp breath caught in my throat as his fingers found my clit and then his mouth found mine again, fingers starting a lilting melody between my thighs. God, he was incredible, I thought hazily as he sucked on the tip of my tongue. He felt divine, his fingertips dancing over me for what felt like forever, but then he was pulling back, and his fingers were against my lips and I heard his voice commanding, “Suck.”

I obeyed, sucking them into my mouth and slicking them with my saliva, tongue sliding around them and licking them deviously as he watched me with piercing eyes. Once he was satisfied with their wetness, he pulled them from my lips and slid them between my legs, parting my soaking folds with ease.

“A little wet, are you love?” he questioned, rubbing the pad of his finger against my entrance.

“Soaked.”

Zeus chuckled wordlessly and quickly pressed two fingers into me, curling them slightly and smiling as my body arched. He built a steady rhythm, his free hand moving to work my clit again as he pumped his fingers into my heat. A third finger joined the first two, pressing against my walls, and I moaned aloud. I was a mess in his arms, shaking and whimpering as I clung to him for dear life, fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“Zeus please!” I cried as he pressed his fingers deeper, curling and finding a sweet spot that made my legs buckle.

“Please what, little one?” His voice was hot against my ear, tickling it and leaving me squirming.

“I need you.”

He clicked his tongue lightly and his hands slowed. “You need me?”

My reply was more of a choked sob than anything coherent.

“I suppose you are ready now.” Deliberately, he pulled his fingers from me, and my stomach twisted with need as he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked my juices from his fingers. “You certainly taste ripe enough for a harvest.”

“Please,” I repeated, head too hazy to say anything else.

Laughing, he kissed my mouth lightly. “Very well then,” he growled, moving behind me and pressing the head of his cock against my dripping heat. “I am a merciful god-” his hands clutched my waist, “-and seeing as you’ve prayed so sweetly, I am happy to answer your pleas.”

With one fluid movement, he filled me. There was no place where I ended and he began, spreading me open and claiming my soul. My hands clenched and I cried his name, body electrified as he held inside of me. Slowly, he began to pump a steady rhythm into me, his hips rocking back and forth, and I was losing myself in the feeling of his cock inside me and his hands kneading my breasts and his mouth planting sloppy, wet kisses along my neck up to my ear. I’d never considered myself to be religious, but if this were the worship the gods demanded, I would gladly be a priestess.

Without warning, his hands gripped my hips and he turned me so that I was facing him, my leg slung around his waist. One hand slid to grasp the back of my neck, and he began to move again, rolling his hips into my heat, his eyes never leaving mine. His other hand eased between my legs, finding my swollen clit easily and beginning to rub it in time with his thrusts as my leg pulled him deeper each time. Electricity surged through my body, my eyes screwing shut as he wrenched cry after cry from my throat.

I never wanted to stop falling apart in the arms of this god. Every slam of his hips brought me closer, each rub of his thumb against my aching bud sending shocks of pleasure through my trembling body. Blindly, I grabbed his face and kissed him, feeling myself falling farther and faster, my hands digging into his hair, my cries muffled by his mouth. A rough snap of his hips and a fevered rub of his thumb against my clit and my head flew back as everything exploded inside of me, white-hot and searing as I screamed his name to the sky.

His thrusts became more erratic as my climax pulsed around him, his hands gripping my body tightly. A few more stuttered pumps and he was coming, hot seed rushing into me as he let out a wordless roar, a thunderclap matching him as he finished.

We stayed there for a moment, struggling to catch our respective breaths as his hands roamed over my skin, tracing little circles on my body. His eyes were half-closed, mouth barely grazing my neck, cock still twitching inside of me. Finally, with a heave he pulled himself from me, cupping my face with his hand and brushing the pad of his thumb, still sticky with my cum, across my cheek. “We should do this again sometime.”

“I think your wife will kill me,” I retorted, though I couldn’t ignore the thrill that raced through my body at his touch.

He chuckled and shook his head, drawing back. “She doesn’t find out unless I want her to. Trust me, you’ll be safe.”

If the myths were true, then there were plenty of women who had been killed or turned into something unnatural that begged to differ, but I let it go for the moment. “Well, like you said Mr. Intuition, I’m not from around here. I’m leaving this weekend.”

“Distance isn’t a problem. I’m the king of the gods, darling, I can find you.”

“Not creepy at all, Your Highness,” I chuckled. “Just, do consider the fact that I wouldn’t like to live the rest of my life as a cow, or a bear, or a weasel, or anything other than a human.”

He laughed aloud, leaving my stomach in knots. “Don’t worry, she won’t touch you. That’s my job.” And he winked—of course he winked.

“If you insist, my king.” I returned his gesture, pulling my pants back up and adjusting my hair. “I’m bound by nature to worship, so I haven’t really got a choice, have I?”

“Not really, but I’d prefer it be your choice. Submission is so much sweeter.” Quickly, he gathered himself, drawing his pants up again and straightening his shirt. “I’ve got to get going, love, but it’s been great. Keep your eyes open, I’ll see you around.” And without another word, the god of the skies turned from me and strode broadly across the platform, vanishing into the elevator.

I shook my head in disbelief. Did any of that really happen? A quick glance at my reflection in the window told me that he had indeed been there. Bruises and bite marks littered my skin, my hair was a mess, and my makeup was running from the rain and the sweat. Yes, it had all been real; every gasp, every thrust, every kiss, every scream was all completely real. I guess I would get to live with that now.

On shaky legs, I made my way to the elevator and pressed the button, waiting as it clanked its way down to me. I felt electrified and positively glorious, despite the lingering dread of Hera’s wrath. Right now, it didn’t matter. I felt alive in more ways than I knew possible. Zeus had claimed me for his own, even just for a matter of minutes, and the memory of his piercing gaze kept me locked in the high.

The elevator arrived and I stepped inside, seeing a man in a wheelchair sitting there already. Far from embarrassed, I dipped my head in greeting, standing across from him as the old machinery descended noisily down the shaft. When we finally reached the ground floor, I nearly danced out of the doors, sashaying across the lobby with a wide grin on my face. However, my reverie was interrupted by a sudden, blood-chilling thought, and I turned to face the elevator as recognition swept through me.

Zeus had taken the elevator up from the 102nd floor.

[xbunnybunz]

circhester city blues [hop x reader]

Summary: Hop finds you at outside at midnight, mulling over some personal thoughts. He extends some much needed words of comfort, and a little bit more.

Genre: Fluff

Date: July 12, 2020

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Circhester was unlike anything you had ever seen before.

Snowflakes drifted slowly from the sky, brushing over the city with a crispy new layer of snow. The cold nighttime air was serene, moving languidly over your exposed cheekbones and fingertips and leaving you slightly shuddering. A hum of gentle music floated softy in the breeze, sounding quite melancholy and tearful.

You lean over the railing on the higher point of the city, eyes taking in the scene of the city of snow. The sensation of snowflakes grazes your skin with a soft nip, melting away and leaving you yearning for more than that gossamer touch.

You close your eyes to eternalize this memory, the sweet and delicate song echoing in the distance and the soft glow of nighttime snow flurries dancing before your eyes. It is times like these, where you’re away from the crowds and cheering of fans, do you get the time to reflect on your journey.

The beginning of this trek seemed so long ago. The hazy memories of Postwick and its endless expanse of green fields leave you feeling bittersweet. As much as you miss home and the feeling of waking up at home in your soft bed, the smell of freshly cooked omlettes wafting from the kitchen, you’ve been beginning to ponder the end of your journey.

The heights and lulls of your adventure fill you with purpose, and every morning you wake up with a mission in mind. Other times, when the excitement dies down and the sun begins to dwindle behind the horizon, you can set up your tent and lay under the stars, counting the specks of light until the coos of your pokemon lull you to sleep.

That is something that, with all its glorious, warm sunshine and creaking cottage houses, Postwick cannot give you.

You watch as one by one, houses lining the streets illuminate with life from the inside. Families come together for supper, their shadows dancing across the cobblestone path lined with a thin layer of snow. You wonder if you’re selfish for not wanting to return home- not wanting this chapter of your life to be over so soon.

Tomorrow was the day you were scheduled to battle Melony, the Ice type gym leader and sixth hurdle to completing your Pokemon Gym Challenge. You think back to your first challenge against Milo, and wonder why you’re not feeling the same jittery feeling in your stomach.

The first night before your first gym battle, you were kept awake by the visions of battle and victory. You recall recounting the potential battle strategies you could use against the grass type leader in your sleep, which led to a night of tossing and turning in Bedew Hotel.

You sigh, your breath making small puffs of clouds in the air. You look down, clenching and unclenching your fists to get blood flowing back into your fingers. There had been a lot you encountered in your travels, all of which would’ve never found had you stayed in your hometown.

You had the chance to step into the battle arena, the stadium pumped full of life and vivacity that made your ears ring and heart swell. The cries of millions watching from home set your soul ablaze, and the urge to pursue your dreams had never been stronger. Amidst your challenge, you met many new and beautiful souls, both in battles and in passing. Each had their own stories and dreams to follow, burning with the passion of life. Their voices rang in your ears as you crept through the dusty Galar mines and scaled the Turrfield ruins, the experiences lives bleeding into yours and coloring you with wonder and devotion.

Many days as you waded through the wild area, you wondered if the sun ever burned so bright back at home. With enough warmth to sear your skin, warm your bones and bleach the heavens with nothing but clear, blue skies. Every night, you find yourself in awe that the starry night sky expanded so far over the horizon, deep, dark and heavy. You always question if it’s the same sky you see through your little window at home, hanging humbly over your desk in a wooden frame.

As the snow falls upon your face, you turn skyward, beholding the moon in all its lustrous, ephemeral beauty. It drips with tantalizing fullness, the light spilling over to speckle stars into the unfathomably darkening night. It hangs heavily in the inky blackness, as if even the skies aren’t large enough to hold it up.

You catch yourself thinking about who you were, and who you are. You wonder if the journey has allowed you to grow too much, too large for your modest little hometown.

The crisp sound of snow underfoot breaks the spell of silence, but you don’t need to look to know who it is.

A violet haired boy leans on the barristrade beside you, a relaxed smile stretching across his face and lighting his eyes.

“Fancy catching you out here,” He teases. “Pondering the mysteries of the universe?”

You see him staring at you from the periphery of your vision. You kick at the snow by the ledge, watching it fall into the fountain underneath.

“Not quite, but I was getting there before you came along.”

Hop laughed, and it was bold and rectifying. It echoed off the brick walls and concrete statues to warm your heart, and soon your cheeks.

“A right ruckus you are. How can you stand out here for so long and still have mysteries unsolved?”

You stutter, feeling quite abashed he had called you out on your glooming. “It hasn’t been that long! I was just… Admiring the view.”

Hop’s smile softens, and in the warm yellow light of the streetlamps, his eyes look like dark pools of swirling honey.

The way he carries himself is new, yet familiar. You know he’s the same Hop that left Postwick with you all those months ago, and yet seeing him like this reminds you that you have not been the only one growing. His exuberant flame is still there, licking at the edges of his smile and playing at the corners of his eyes. But somehow, he seems more mellow, more willing to stop for a second before surging forwards like the freight engine you’ve always known.

They’re all small shifts, but bring you comfort nonetheless, knowing you’re not the only one who may feel out of place. Hop’s the one thing in your adventures that remained constant despite change, as sturdy as an anchor in the raging sea.

When you look at him in the dull glow of the moon, you feel like you have a fragment home in your hands. You see tanned skin and the sun-kissed freckles that faintly pepper his cheeks, a signature mark of a Postwick Wooloo herder. It contrasts greatly with the snow that has settled onto his hair and the fur lining his denim jacket, as Postwick doesn’t often have cold seasons.

“What are you doing out here, anyways?” You ask.

Hop peers over the rising, and then up at the sky. “I was looking for you.”

Your heart throbs at the way he speaks so candidly. “For me? Don’t you think I can handle myself, now?”

He chokes, and waves his hands. “No, that’s not what I meant! What I mean to say is…”

He places a hand on the nape of his neck, now his turn to feel embarrassed.  “It’s a force of habit, I guess? It was always my job to fetch you before supper back in Postwick, before you got your first pokemon.”

You grin and give him a bit of a shove with your shoulder to let him know you were joking. He stumbles a tad, but recovers quickly with a mirthful smile, gladly settling back into his place next to you.

“It’s been a while, huh?” You say.

Hop leans heavily on the balustrade, crossing one long leg behind the other. “More than a while. I still remember how you cried when I caught my Wooloo, you were so worried I’d leave for the pokemon challenge without you.”

You laughed at the memory, but the distance between then and now makes you a bit teary-eyed.

“Would you have?”

Hop smiled at the thought, but shook his head. “No, I’ve always known I wanted to start the challenge with you as my rival. But I’ll admit, I really thought I was ready to take on the world at the time, just my level three Wooloo and me.”

You giggled and he reddened, though you were unsure if it was from the cold or being flustered.

“Thanks, Hop. That means a lot to me. I wouldn’t rather have anyone else by my side for this wild ride.”

He grins at you, taken aback and flattered all at once. “Oh, geez. I’m real glad to hear you say that, but don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you said that!”

“Drat, I thought flattery would work for sure this time.”

You roll your eyes and subconsciously lean into him a bit more for warmth, though it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

He blushes, a deep red reaching the tips of his ears and sticking a lump in his throat. He swallows thickly, and doesn’t say anything for the longest time.

You watch as the moon silhouettes the lightpoles in the air, overtaking their light with its own. Hop notices your silence, gives you a small smile.

“What have you been thinking about?” He asks, breaking the stillness.

You pull back from him, and you think you see a flash of disappointment across his face, but it’s gone as soon as it came.

“What do you mean?”

Hop shakes his head at you, the snow in his hair catching the illumination of the moon and making him seem almost otherworldly.  “You’ve been gone since we finished eating dinner with Sonia. There’s not much sightseeing to do here, especially after the sun sets.”

You look at the city again to confirm his words, and find that he’s right. You’ve been moping about on your lonesome in the drape of the night, thinking about the inevitable end to the story you’ve waited so long to experience.

You figure that if anyone else can understand you, it’s Hop, the boy who’s grown up beside you all your life.

“Do you ever not want this to end?” You ask, snowflakes catching on your eyelashes and melting away just as quickly.

Hop doesn’t speak, and you take this as a sign to continue.

“This is the most I’ve ever seen of the world, and it’s far more beautiful than anything I could’ve ever imagined. I want to keep feeling the wind in my hair when I take flying taxis to the next gym, and I want to always feel the sand brewing into a storm in the battle arena. I want to keep meeting new people, meeting new goals and making new aspirations. I don’t ever want to stop chasing this dream, but I know that I’m going to catch up to it one day. And what happens then? “

You turn to him, your eyes sparkling alongside all the stars in the sky. “I don’t know if I’ll ever belong in Postwick anymore, or anywhere at all for that matter. The stars reach too far, and the sun moves too quickly for me to just go home and watch them when I know I could be out here, running after them.”

You shudder, the cold air nipping at your skin through your thin jacket. “Every step forwards feels like a step backwards, too. The closer I get to finishing this challenge, the sooner I know I’ll have to go back home.”

Your shoulders slump, and you can’t help but sigh softly, dejectedly. Mist collects in the night air at your exhale, and evaporates.

You’re surprised to feel something thick and heavy descend upon your shoulders, cocooning you in warmth and the familiar scent of pine. You look up, and your cheek brushes worn Wooloo fur.

“Hop, you’ll catch a cold.” You say, moving to shrug off his denim jacket. But he places his hand on your back, firmly holding the jacket in place. He gives you a smile and it’s enough for you to drop your efforts.

“Keep it on, you’re shivering.”

You keep eye contact with him a beat too long, but he doesn’t say anything when you turn away.

For a long moment, you wonder if he would respond and feel silly for asking him these things. When he speaks again, his voice clear in the crisp snowfall, you’re taken by surprise.

“I think every adventure is richest with a definite ending. It means we achieved what we set out to do.” He says.

“But the most important part's gotta be finding new pieces of yourself to explore, and that’ll never expire. You’re right, we may be done with this part of our journey, but now we know what drives our hearts. Without going through this, we would never know how many more stories lie ahead, ready for us to learn from.”

Hop turns to you, eyes gleaming, drawing you in.

“And I don’t know about you, but it means the world to me that I get to go on my first big adventure with my closest friend. It helped me realize that I have a lot to learn from other people, and a lot to learn from you, too.”

You feel your heart twinge and pulse quicken at the tone in his voice. You divert your eyes to the buildings behind Hop instead, unable to bear his intensity, and take in the lights dwindling with silhouettes of families ready to sleep. He presses on, voice bordering almost on a whisper now.

“I can’t wait to become the person I’m meant to be, (y/n). And I can’t wait to see the person you’ll become too. I really want to tell you all the things I know I’ll be amazed by in the future, but even more than that, I want you to be there beside me, like now, so we can both learn from it together. I know there’s so much more out there for the both of us.”

Your eyes prick with tears, and the moon and the stars and the streetlights all blur together into one large and glistening mosaic.

“Hop… Thank you. I don’t think you know how much I needed to hear that right now.”

You reach up and brush away your tears, blood rushing in your ears when you realized Hop’s hand never left your back.

“I’ve just been so worried about everything. The challenge, our sponsors, and that strange gigantamax energy showing up everywhere. But now that the end seems so close, I was worried I’d be left unfulfilled.”

Every inhale you take smells like him, and it’s calming and electrifying at the same time. The stars twinkling overhead seemed dull in comparison to the glint in hazel eyes, shining with endless ambition yet such patience.

“But?” He asked, a puff of cold mist trailing from his lips, beckoning.

“You were right. There is more for us out there, more than either of us could begin to imagine. And I can’t wait to see it all.”

He smiles again, softly. Dimples push at his cheeks, and you suddenly really want to hold his hand. So you do.

His fingers are rough from years of wrestling Wooloo, but his hands are still large and warm. When you slip your hand into his, he doesn’t hesitate to thread his fingers through yours, and it’s a perfect fit.

You sneak a glance up at him again, and this time it’s his turn to be abashed. His cheeks are tinged pink, and his gaze is directed towards the water, the soft rippling casting a calm glow on his frame.

“Hop?”

He startles at your voice, and you can barely hold back a chuckle.

“Hm? Yeah?”

“Did you mean what you said before? About us?”

He pulls his gaze back to you, face still flushed but voice thick with earnestness.

“Of course I meant it.”

The words swell a happiness in your stomach, and you look up at him, admiring the unruliness of his hair and the softness of his features basking in the nighttime sky, contrasted by a pair of sunny yellow eyes that speckled like amber in the dark. Then you really looked at him.

You looked into his eyes and saw gold, as vivid and overflowing as the wheat fields back in Postwick you both spent years running up and down in autumn. You saw endless humid summers of climbing trees and splashing in lakes, you saw the boy who picked you up and carried you home when you slipped on the stairs just outside the village, and the boy who you got into a fist fight for because someone called his hair funny. You looked at him and recounted all these memories, of the times you had laughed together, and cried together. When you looked at him, you saw your rock, your inspiration and your best friend- perhaps now, something even more.

You reached up to brush a hand against his cheek, skin cold then blossoming with warmth under your touch.

He leans into your palm, eyes burning and never leaving your own.

The moon hung low in the sky now, full and heavy with a pearlescent sheen that inked your shadows into the stone floor, standing closer now than ever before.

Hop whispered your name, the warm air washing over you and drawing goosebumps. You hummed in response, much too lost in your trance to respond with words.

“I'm really glad we're here right now.”

A knot closes in your throat and a gentle warmth spreads across your face at the sincerity of his words. You’re not sure how to respond, so you just draw yourself closer to him. He dips his head to meet you halfway, and in a single slow and blissful moment, the space between you and Hop dwindles down to zero.

His lips are soft and chaste, moving with a slow and tender languidness that made your legs wobble and knees buckle. You grip at his shirt for support and he responds by pulling you flush against him, arm looping around your waist and the other hand still sweetly holding onto yours.

When it ends, you’re both breathless and red in the cheeks. He rests his forehead on yours and his eyes are deep and endless; pupils blown and hair askew, tickling your face and blushing your cheeks.

The snow nipping at your clasped hands is a reminder that the universe is moving everywhere around you. Yet time feels slowed and perfect, and the world, though large, seems to fit lovingly intertwined between your fingers.

Your bodies are languorous and barely want to untangle, but Hop laughs at the snow collected in your hair. You wonder how even in the cold night, his laughter is full and round and warm. You can feel his body, pressed against yours, trembling from the cold without his denim jacket. You tease him for this, but do it with a grateful smile while wrapped in the scent of Hop.

The night had grown long and with it came the dropping temperatures.

“Let’s head back to Ionia Hotel, we should get some rest before taking down Melony tomorrow, don't you reckon?” Hop asks cheekily, despite his tousled hair and labored breathing.

You want to poke fun at him some more, but bite your tongue. Instead, you nod and began your trek together with him, hands still linked and hearts ever pounding under the cape of the shimmering, expanding night sky, and look to the future.

[dreamingofrascal]

Promises For You

A/N: HIIII! THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST by the lovely @tenshiraaa!!! They requested for the confession scene and you’ll be in the place for Mai. You’re disappearing also and almost follow the same story like as her y’know. But I HOPE YALL ENJOY! Requests are always open, Nsfw ones too ;). (Also requests can be for ANY of the Bunny Senpai cast). YALL ARE JUST REALLY THRISTY FOR SAKUTA.

It happened. Even though he promised and crossed his heart he wouldn’t, he still did. He was liar. Yet, you knew this pain grew from the fact that you would soon be forgotten as you faded out of existence. You peered over his shoulder as he took his exam that you helped prep him for. His brain worked rapidly. His gentle voice murmured the words as he read.

You felt out of place. You felt pervert-like for watching him. You felt hopeless. The intense realization was setting in. You were gone. You had been forgotten. Even if you stayed around Sakuta’s whole life watching him, It wouldn’t change anything. In fact, You assumed it would probably make the pain even worse. You sucked a deep breath in. Your hand played with his brown, messy locks one last time.

“Goodbye, Sakuta. Thanks for everything.” And with that, you left.

Only five minutes had passed since you said your farewell when Sakutas quiet reading stopped. His eyes gazed at a word that wouldn’t be perceived special to any other person. Yet to him, he felt something in this word. He stopped at the letterings that spelt, “Admiration.”. He had made a witty remark the past night on it, ‘Sakuta admired Y/N with great admiration and absolute heart eyes’.

Sakuta’s pupils began to expand. His face lighting up again before getting replaced with a frown. He was thinking, thinking hard about something. That was when he suddenly stood up from his desk, half heartily told a teacher an excuse on going to the bathroom before running off. He dashed down the hallways, running towards the exit of the school.

Sakuta made his way to the outside of the school. His feet carried him swift and with purpose. He didn’t bother to look at other passing students or staff. He was determined. He had a plan. His footing stopped in front of the school. He took a deep breath in, “Please work.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Y/N L/N, I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU.” His voice was loud, clear, broke the silent peace of the blue skies. His voice was raw, full of passion and emotion. Sakuta looked around quickly for any sign of you...Nothing. He sighed deeply, “This one is gonna make my vocal cords hurt.”And with another clearing of his throat, he opened his mouth, “I WANT TO LOVE YOU. I WANT YOU TO BE MINE, Y/N L/N. I WANT TO HOLD YOU.”, Another quick breath was taken, “I, SAKUTA AZUSAGAWA, IS MEGA SUPER DUPER GIGA VERY MUCH...” Another gasp of air was taken in as he felt his vocal cords grow raw, “LOVE YOUUUUU! I WANT YOU BY MY SIDE. I WANT TO TAKE YOU ON DATES. YOU MAKE ME HAPPY.”

Sakuta could see the faces of familiar students peeking out of the school’s windows. Their expressions were all the same; Furrowed-eyebrows and a confused frown or, an amused smirk at how embarrassing his actions were. Yet, Sakuta didn’t pay them any mind. His eyes just darted all around him for you. He just wanted to see you again. It’s all he wanted. It’s all he was thinking about.

Disappointment was creeping over him.

“It-it...it didn’t-it didn’t work?” His voice was shaky. Hopelessness deep in his voice.

Then, there came a silhouette, but not just any silhouette. It was yours. Sakuta rushed towards you as the two of you met atlast. Your arms instantly wrapped around his torso, just taking his warmth in. You looked up to see him smiling at you. You looked up to see him looking at you, acknowledging you, seeing you, feeling you, looking directly into your pretty, pretty eyes.

“You sure do know how to make a scene, Azusagawa.” You smiled which he gave in return, “But, Did you mean it? Everything you said, Do you really mean it?” The questions slipped out as you looked at him for reassurance.

He gave a nod and smiled with this true genuine happiness in his expression, “Duh, Of course I am. You really think that it was possible for me to not fall in love with you, Y/N?” He teased as he held on tightly to you.

The amount of joy was overwhelming. It made your heart thump and do flips. You felt the adrenaline run through your body. That nonstop flow of serotonin rushed in.

“You’re quiet. Am i getting rejected?” He questioned jokingly. It took a few seconds of you trying to wiggle from his grasp before you stepped back from him swiftly.

“Sakuta Azusagawa, I hereby confess that I, Y/N L/N, super duper ultra mega super love you. And would gladly want to be yours.” And with one last nod after finishing your confession, you grabbed his hand, “Now, Back to class, Azusagawa. We don’t want all that studying to go to waste.”

“Mhm mhm mhm.” He nodded obediently as you led the way back to the school.

Sakuta simply admired you as you dragged him. You were back. Finally back. Officially back. Back for once and for all. The way your hair caught the sun was back. The way you smiled and warmed Sakuta’s heart came back. A new beginning to his life was back. The one person who had helped him more than one else, more than his parents who gave up when things got rough, more than his teachers, his friends. Everyone. You made him feel cared for. You made him feel something. And he would never let something ,who could’ve faded away so easily, leave his life again. He promised to himself he wouldn’t lose you again. This time he would keep his promise to you. This promise was forever

[ontowanderlust]

Koi no yokan., phr. 

"There's a phrase in Japanese: koi no yokan, ever heard of that?"

She loves her friend, she really do. It's just that, of all Minor's impeccable timing, he chose to bother her on the hour where all she ever wanted was some peace and quiet, just away from people…even from her friend.

She could always drive him away, make up ridiculous excuses that even her father would have a hard time deciphering if what she's saying is true or not, but for some reason, she didn't have the heart to turn her friend away... nor lie to him as the boy could always see through her.

Heaving out a sharp sigh, forced out her reply. "Minor, not everyone has the talent to pick up new language as they please." she sounded patronizing but they both knew that's as responsive she can be.  

When she is greeted by silence, she turned her head towards her friend only to find him looking at her with those same owlish eyes, psychoanalyzing her as he said nothing while shaking his head.

"You look like shit,"

"Thanks, that's exactly what I want to hear, Minor."

"No problem!" the bastard really had the gall to beam at her, chuckling as he poked her cheek. "No really, what the hell have you been doing?"

"Studying," she replied dryly. "Can't say the same thing about you." he poked out his tongue in retaliation.

"Come on, do you wanna know what it means or not?" he asked her impatiently earning him a roll of eyes from her.

"Alright, I'll bite. What does it mean?"

For a moment, she could've sworn she saw her friend's eyes twinkle but when she looked closer, the twinkle was gone. Huh.

Minor shifted on his seat, angling his body to turn so he was facing her, giving her his utmost attention. "Koi no yokan doesn't have a direct translation but the closest thing to describe the phrase is... love at second sight."

She blinked, biting back a groan at his dramatics. "What does that even mean? You look at a person, they're not pretty enough, you look at them the second time, they're now lovable?"

There's something oddly comforting about the autumn rain, she mused as she sat by the bus stop, temporarily sheltering her from the downpour. Maybe it's because of how the rain makes the weather even colder-in which she would thrive the most, she'd often tell her dad.

Or maybe how the rain makes the world look alive, the rain being a blessing to the dying season- a gift by the goddess Persephone to her beloved world before she lets the world slumber, before she reunites with her husband that is.

Either way, it's nice, she decided, letting a small hum as she swayed on her makeshift music while her feet swung back and forth, not caring if the scenery before her was deserted.

Or not, from her periphery, she could see a figure emerging from the school building. From afar, she could tell there's annoyance painting his features as he looked up from the darkened skies.

He probably didn't have any umbrella with him, she deduced, feeling a little bit of sympathy for him even though she's in the same situation as him.

Despite the rain fogging up her line of vision, she could see his appearance and couldn't help but think how familiar he looked- was that the reason she kept staring unabashedly? Probably, but she couldn't deny the demand of attention just from his presence alone and if it weren't for the small sound coming somewhere near the trees, she wouldn't be able to stop staring at him.

Before he could even notice her, she ducked down the trees where she found a small cat shying away from the downpour of rain. Out of impulse she reached for her pristine white handkerchief, placing it on top of the cat's head- offering what little she can to give the cat shelter for the time being, even going as far as offering snacks as well.

She didn't know for how long she had been there, crouching as she watched the satisfied cat but the next thing she knew, a jacket was being placed on top of her head.

Surprised, she looked up only to see the boy- the same figure she had been ogling earlier, jacket less. It took her a moment to figure out what just happened before flashing a grateful smile for the boy and his small sacrifice. She opened her mouth to give her thanks only for the rain got heavier, leaving him no choice but to run from it.

As he fled, she came out of her stupor, yelling her gratitude, not knowing if he could even hear it from the echoes of dripping water.

Oh well, there's always next time, right?

He looked at her as if he had grown another head, reaching out to flick her forehead to which she protested at. "Hear me out, okay?"

She narrowed her eyes at her friend but gestured for him to continue.

"It's like this, koi no yokan is when you look at them, you see the possibility of falling in love with them."

She let out a scoff. "What, like soulmates? It sounds like you don't have a choice in the matter."

Watching her friend launch into his ramblings, she couldn't help but smile at the effort her friend is putting through just for her. He may not be much but she knew her friend had sensed her wallowing in self-loathing. And as her friend delved into the discussion of soulmates, she couldn't help but reach over and ruffle his hair to which he protested at, claiming his head is far too precious than hers.

She wanted to hit her head on the piano keys over and over and over. She would gladly done so if it weren't for the fact that the grand piano was owned by the school and she might get killed by their principal for destroying the beautiful instrument.

In her defense, she just really wanted to be able to perfect the piece she had been painstakingly practicing for weeks now however there was this particular note she had been stumbling upon, messing the entire thing.

Closing the piano, she turned her gaze over the window where the gingko tree proudly stood by.

If you could talk, Mr. Gingko Tree, what would you tell me right now? She giggled at the silly thought that crossed her mind, the solitude getting to her as she cracked her knuckles before opening the piano once more. Just as she turned her attention back to keys, she swore she saw something white flashing by the window. A figment of her imagination, perhaps?

As her fingers fly through the keys, she swore the gingko tree were swaying, the leaves falling as the melody surged. She liked to think it was the tree's way of encouraging her and when she managed to play through the note she was having a hard time with, she felt her happiness being carried by the wind.  

Before she knew it, she was singing along the music, silently and softly as if it was a secret not shared beyond the four walls of the music room.

And as the music come to close, she glanced back to the gingko tree, surprise creeping on her face as she saw the boy she had encountered before, currently perched on the lower branch, his back turned against her. His shoulders were rapidly rising and lowering as if climbing a tree took a toll on him.

Is he actually a weakling? He doesn't seem to be the type.

Doesn't matter. As she lifted her fingers from the keys, she gave the boy a silent bow as if the performance was all for him- even if he couldn't see her bowing at him.

Maybe next time, she'd be able to play with him in the audience and maybe when that happens, she'd be able to give him her overdue gratitude.

"Are you still listening?"

Minor's voice broke her out of her reverie, giving him a sheepish smile to which earned her a sigh as she gestured for him to continue his spiel, curiosity getting the best of her, wondering what prompted him to go on about random Japanese phrases out of all things.

"It's like...a feeling when you meet someone that you're gonna fall in love with. Maybe you don't feel anything now and you doubt you'll feel anything for them but it's inevitable that you will."

She felt like a bucket of freezing water was poured over her, her breath hitching as Minor-despite all the ramblings- managed to hit her where it matters.

Despite his appearance, despite what he had shown the world, he really is in tune with people's emotions.

But no matter, it's not like she'd readily tell her friend about how close she had guessed what's bothering her the entire afternoon.

[I don't know you, but I want you, all the more for that...]

Gavin. His name is Gavin, she smiled to herself, her fingers gliding through the keys, flawlessly playing through the notes of the song that has been stuck in her head the past few weeks.

She swore it was just curiosity- her asking for the mysterious boy's name from Minor, that is. She only asked  so she could find him easily to thank him from the little shelter he gave her way back then- his jacket all dry cleaned and ready to be returned.

Easy peasy.

She swore that's all it was. It has been weeks since she asked Minor and yet, here she was, hiding away in the music room. It has been weeks and yet she had never made the move she swore she's gonna do.

[Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice, you'll make it now...]

It was faint and yet she managed to pick up the sound. Musician's ear, she bragged one time to Minor when he complained how easily she heard his quiet muttering. It was faint and quiet and if it weren't for her beloved musician's ear she wouldn't have heard the soft strumming of guitar coming from the adjacent room- the music room that was reserved for classes.

She might be a little obvious with her spying but she couldn't help but pause from playing just so she could focus on the sound.

It was a little clumsy as if the person was playing by the ear, obviously they didn't know the song but for some reason they were playing along to her music, making her heart skip a beat.

It might be a coincidence, her subconscious thought, not letting her hopes get the best of her. Shaking her head, she continued to play slowly as if she's giving the person a little leeway so they could catch up with her, subtly of course. She didn’t want to scare them off, after all.

[You have suffered enough, and warred with yourself, it's time that you won...]

And just like that, they both found their footing quickly as if they were meant to play the song together. For the first time since she set afoot in the music room reserved for her, she found someone she could play with- quelling this small sense of loneliness within her.

And, she dared to think that maybe, just maybe it was the guy who she kept seeing from her periphery. Gavin, she thought. His name is Gavin.

[Falling slowly, sing your melody, I'll sing it loud...]

Scoffing, she shied away from his knowing gleaming eyes. "That sounds so cliche. Like a quote from a book."

"It actually is." he agreed, pulling the aforementioned book in line with her sight, brandishing it as if it's the next best thing. "Nicola Yoon's The Sun is also a Star. The book club just finished reading this book the other day. See, I did cover for you!"

She gave him a pointed look. "I'm oddly proud at what you've become. Look at you, listening in on book club meetings!" she grinned, pinching his cheek while he swatted her offending hand.

"In the wise words of Andrew Taylor, it senses the first tentative tremor of a feeling." his gaze on her softened as she stiffened from his gaze. "It's a surrender, above all, to the magic of potential." he whispered, crossing his arms on the table as he laid his head there, staring at her, all jest completely gone.

"Call me whatever you want but you...you just thought of someone didn't you?"

Rumors are nasty things.

If she's ever in need of reminder why she decided to be by herself instead of surrounding herself with huge groups of friends, it's because of rumors spreading around. It doesn't matter if a person is good or bad, if the student body decided they're interesting enough, be sure to expect rumors coming through.

"Really? Tsk. And people say he's really cool to be with."

"I know right? I heard his father is the Loveland City General! He must've come from affluent family right? So why would he bully students for lunch money?"

"Maybe he's in it just for the sake of it?"

"That's sickening. He's worse than I thought!"

Whispered conversations floated throughout the entire school. She's not dumb not to know who they were talking about but with every conversation, every whispered rumors came with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

He's not...he's not like that, right?

"I know you're kind, but if you're not careful you might get swept up with the bad kids. I'm just saying this since I'm looking out for you. You're a candidate for valedictorian place right?"

"People like him aren't bound by the rules. Sooner or later you might end regretting if you ever sided up with him."

"He's got the looks. Don't get fooled by him."

Please stop, she wanted to plead with them. They don't know him enough, she wanted to argue but then again, so had she. What does she know? How confident was she to defend someone whom she had limited interaction with?

"Just...stay away if you know what's best for you."

Hanging her head low, she clutched the paper near her chest, a small apology dying upon her lips.

Written on the paper was ink clear as day, Saturday 9 am, I will be waiting for you.

She let out a bitter laugh, joining her friend as she buried her head on the space next to Minor's head, hoping that by doing so, she's able to bury the feelings raging deep within her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Can you wait for me for a little bit more?

Hi. Hello! I did say that I am not writing long fics as of now but this idea has been haunting me for some time now. Don’t be deceived, I’ve written a similar piece which is posted in ao3 and what I did with this one is that I’ve tweaked it to suit the fandom more so even if the idea is similar, it’s not. 

Also. High school AU! where MC is actually secretly pining for Gavin cause why not right? That high school timeline is really helpful so thank you, @ginkgomoon​ you’re such a blessing to someone who sucks at keeping track with the timeline like me!

Do check out my other contribution to the MLQC fandom aka MLQC Dictionary and send me some prompts if you guys wanted to. 

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.5}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 1.4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

A glimpse into the fourth week of travels (the third week of July):

The lightning cut through Robin's vision, making the bright day even more unbearable to the eye than the white sky was anyway. The thunder that followed broken seconds later was a sound to match, piercing and swallowing every possibility of thought. It was then when the skies opened up, and the rain came pouring down onto the fields of the heat washed Normandy. This was their first expedition to a country beyond the UK… and of course it had to go anything but smoothly. Not only had it been terribly windy all morning, but now it was storming and wet as well, making things even more dreadful for Robin and Snape as they hurried along the most desolate countryside road in all of France. Had they known they would end up here in the middle of nowhere, they probably would have gone for a different theory after all. But now it was too late, they had already come too far to turn around. They were going to see this through now.

After ten minutes in the brutally whipping rain, they finally came across a saving grace in the form of a small bus shelter (or whatever it was supposed to be), and it didn't even take a second of thought to know that they would wait here for the storm to pass. Getting drenched wasn't the worst of it, really, but being wet and out in the wind was a doom to be freezing all too soon. And they still had some miles left to go, on to a place they couldn't apparate to if they knew neither its address nor appearance.

"I hate France." Robin grumbled as she let the water fade from her clothes and hair without wasting any time in the newly gained dry space. But shedding the water unfortunately left her feeling no warmer than before.

"Have you actually seen any of the country before today or is your judgement merely based on getting caught in the rain right now?"

"It's based on me freezing right now! And even more on the stupid French books I had to translate in order to get anywhere with the stupid research on the stupid mushroom growing at the end of this stupid road!"

"You skipped breakfast again, didn't you?"

"What does it matter… It's too bloody cold to eat anyway." Robin crossed her arms over her chest with a quiet huff, trying to keep herself from shivering, but it was of no use. She did see his point though, perhaps she really was being cranky… but being cold was way worse than not eating breakfast! There had been more important matters to attend to that morning. Getting to bloody France, for example.

"I would still like you to eat." He said calmly but in determination, making Robin sigh in defeat in return. There really was nothing she wouldn't do if he asked it of her, which was equally scary as it was astonishing. Perhaps she felt this way because she knew that he would never ask anything of her that would be to her disadvantage. Perhaps she simply trusted him that much. Bloody hell, she most definitely did, there was no 'perhaps' needed. And if he wanted her to eat, as ridiculous a request as it might seem, she would relent to his wish.

"Have breakfast with me, then." Robin stated rather than asked, with a certain glance up at him now rather than down at the ground. If he could command her to his wish, perhaps she could do the same with him. "I'd bet you haven't eaten either."

"Very well." He was surprisingly quick to agree, and Robin couldn't help giving him a small smirk before first digging out the large blanket from her backpack first, then her entire storage of all kinds of food. Since living in a tent, she had gotten used to buying and thus carrying around quite enough provisions for multiple days, or in this case, for a neat breakfast for two. She would gladly share with him the little she had, without even a doubt. And as long as he didn't know just how little that really was, she believed he would gladly accept it in return.

Less than a minute later they were sitting side by side, a little warmer already from the (of course entirely accidental yet undeniably comfortable) closeness between them, and somehow Robin found herself not hating France quite so much anymore. Still, now, there were two things that were making her shiver.

"Still cold?" Snape asked in return, and Robin could have laughed at how very aware he was of her and yet how unaware of everything beyond. It was her luck that he was quite as bad at interpreting the little accidental tells of her emotions as she was at hiding them. He knew so much, and yet he knew so little at the same time… Always the ambivalence, that man.

"Quite, yes." She finally made herself reply in a breathless smile, while keeping her eyes on the tartan pattern of the blanket beneath her. She'd had that old thing for ages already, but never quite gotten around to changing its colour to something less posh. By now and in a way, she almost liked that it looked quite so terrible.

"Well, in that case I would suggest that you find yourself that black jumper you likely are keeping in your bag currently. High collar, tight sleeves, loose waist… you know which one."

"I didn't know you were so knowledgeable about my wardrobe." Robin chuckled in sincere amusement. "I could indeed wear that one, but that would be terribly unfair."

"Why, pray tell, would it be unfair to wear a jumper when you are cold?"

"Because you don't have a jacket either! I'd feel terrible to be all warm and cozy and leave you freezing by yourself."

"That's ridiculous."

"It's not!"

"It is."

"Well, then tell me in all honesty that you aren't cold." Robin quirked an eyebrow up at him defiantly. "If you're feeling perfectly fine and warm as it is, I'll shut up immediately and put on my jumper without any further discussion."

"I won't lie to you to soothe your bad conscience, Robin. I will not lie to you at all."

"So you are cold."

"Yes." He replied simply, truthfully. "But that does not by any means justify that you should be freezing as well, so do put on your jumper now or I will be gone in a second."

Geez, he totally knew that his threat of leaving was the only functioning leverage he really had on her these days… Insufferable idiot. With a small sigh and an even smaller smile Robin rolled her eyes rather visibly, then grabbed her backpack indeed and started roaming through its depth in practiced search, though not for the jumper in question. What she easily dug up instead was better by far; a warm quilt that had been serving as her duvet at night ever since she started living in her tent. But he didn't need to know that. Without asking for approval, Robin simply draped the huge quilt around his shoulders first, with little effort while sitting up on her knees, then crossed her legs beneath herself and wrapped the remaining fabric around her own body as well. 

Now that was better already… and he didn't make any obvious attempt to protest either. A good chunk of nervousness she hadn't known she'd held onto fell off her mind and heart in an instant, and she found herself smiling before she knew. The blanket was large enough by far, they didn't have to sit too closely together to be covered in warmth, but still before long their arms were miraculously touching, then their entire sides, both resting against each other without a word.

"Breakfast in Normandy… I didn't think I'd live to experience that." Robin sighed after a while of comfortable silence, quirking an eyebrow up at Snape with a smirk, and her heart skipped a beat when he barely visibly smiled down at her in return. "Without being cold, it's actually quite nice here."

"Then let us hope that the storm lasts long enough to have a coffee as well."

"Or three."

"You truly are terrible."

"You probably meant to say insufferable."

"My point exactly."

______________________________

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[ohshcscenerios]

Neighbors

Chapter Two

Poll Result: Lotus 

Haruhi had hoped for a warm sunny day, hoped that the last remnants of summer would bless them on their morning walk, but with autumn also came gray skies and wet pavement. It had rained in the early hours, before the sun had risen, which left their day chilly and damp. 

Haruhi zipped her jacket to her neck and stuffed her hands into its pockets, already regretting leaving her apartment. She could have made them breakfast herself but the twins insisted they treat her to one of campus’ hidden jewels; the Lotus. 

“I spoke to my Spanish professor after class last week and she said the Lotus has the best tea in the area.” Hikaru said over his shoulder, taking the lead a few steps ahead of the others. 

“Do they have food too?” Haruhi asked. 

Kaoru playfully ruffled her hair with a giant grin, “Yes they have food.”

“Always the little piglet.” Hikaru teased.

Haruhi huffed, “I haven’t eaten yet remember? We’re getting breakfast.” 

Hikaru slowed down to walk beside her, “Well what are you in the mood for? I’m sure they have a nice selection.” 

Haruhi slumped her shoulders and quickened her pace, “Let’s just see when we get there.” 

A ten minute walk around the west greenhouse and through a winding tree path led them to a small building at the edge of campus. The black pavement merged into a wooden walkway, one of the many details the little restaurant used to create its natural ambiance. Bushy ferns tastefully hung along the covered entrance with a small pond bordering the building, hence the wooden walkway also acting as a bridge. True to its name, lotus flowers floated atop the still water. 

“Wow, this is beautiful,” Haruhi said as they neared the entrance.

Hikaru nodded, “My professor said it’s where a lot of psychology majors come to relax. I can see why now.”

Kaoru rushed ahead so he could open the door for her. Together they stepped inside and found a table in the corner by a large window overlooking the pond. They took their seats and Hikaru ordered a pot of green tea for the table and a plate of various mochi to share.

“Hey look who’s here Takashi.” A familiar voice said from behind Hikaru’s back. He didn’t need to turn around to know who had just joined them. 

Mitsukuni and Takashi rounded the table, one with a giant grin and the other with a small smile that could barely be described as a smile. Hikaru pointed to the empty chairs beside him to which they gladly accepted, settling themselves at the table across Haruhi and Kaoru.

“What brings you to Lotus?” Mitsukuni asked cheerfully.

Kaoru shrugged, “We wanted to treat Haruhi to breakfast. This little tanuki doesn’t leave her apartment.” He jokingly nudged her side with his elbow which earned him an annoyed eye roll. 

Mitsukuni leaned over the table towards Haruhi, “Oh you’ll like this place, it’s very pretty and the food is delicious. Takashi and I come here all the time after dojo practice.”

Takashi nodded in agreement. 

“So why haven’t you taken us here yet senpai?” Hikaru teased, leaning into his senior. 

Mitsukuni chuckled, “Like you said, Haru-chan never leaves her apartment. We didn’t want to go unless we all could go together. That was the whole point of living next to each other, right?”

“Yeah,” Kaoru sneered, turning his attention to Haruhi, “That was the whole point and yet you stay locked up in your apartment studying.”

“Well excuse me for taking my education seriously. You know, not everyone can act as carefree as you two. Some of us have a future we need to work hard for.” She scolded. 

“But they’re somewhat right Haru-chan,” Mitsukuni piped in, “You can’t lock yourself away all the time, especially when we’re right next to you.” 

Haruhi crossed her arms and frowned, “Kyoya locks himself away too but I don’t see anyone complaining about him.” 

“Well…” Hikaru’s voice lacked confidence, as if he wasn’t sure how to continue, “He’s really not alone though. Tamaki usually spends most of his evenings with Kyoya.” 

Haruhi cocked her head to the side, surprised to learn this. She didn’t know her friends were hanging out so much. Perhaps she really was missing out on a lot of fun by choosing to study by herself. Her friends did move into the neighboring studio apartments on her floor so they could all be together and yet she’s only eaten dinner with them a handful of times. By only prioritizing her schoolwork she was neglecting her friends who severely downgraded from their extravagant comfort to be close to her. Not to mention two of her friends only had one year left until they graduated university and moved forward. 

Maybe she should reconsider how she’s been living… 

Haruhi sighed and looked between her friends sitting around her, “I’m sorry guys, I didn’t mean to offend you. I know you all moved onto campus so we could be together but I’ve been so busy with staying ahead of my schoolwork, I guess I never realized…” 

Kaoru wrapped his arms around her shoulders and brought her close for a tight hug. “You’re so cute, even when we’re annoyed with you.”

Haruhi struggled against his hold, trying to free herself by pushing against his side, “Thanks I guess?”

Hikaru leaned back and draped his arm over the chair’s back, seeming to consider a devilish thought. His smirk turned into a wicked grin while he watched Kaoru tussle Haruhi’s hair. He looked to his side and saw his seniors watching the two with entertained smiles, seeming to enjoy their two friends behaving so naturally, just like the old days when they would tease and laugh in an abandoned music room. 

“I know how you can make up for neglecting us Haruhi,” Hikaru spoke with a smug confidence, watching her gather herself again as she re-situated herself in her seat. 

“Oh yeah?” She asked, tugging at her jacket sleeves, “and how can I do that?” 

Hikaru smiled, “Considering today is Friday… you should skip classes today and spend the rest of the weekend with us.”

Haruhi shot him a look, “I can’t do that and you know it.” 

“Why not?” Kaoru asked, “We don’t mind skipping classes with you. We practically take the same classes anyway and I have a feeling we wouldn’t be missing much.”

“This isn’t high school anymore you guys, we can’t just skip class and expect everything will be ok!” Haruhi reprimanded. “Professors aren’t the same as high school teachers. Who knows what we’d miss. Plus they could dock our grade because of our absence, Absolutely not.” 

“Takashi and I don’t have classes on Fridays so we could join you guys!” Mitsukuni added, ignoring the warning in Haruhi’s eyes.

“Hunny-senpai, you of all people would know better.” Haruhi chided. 

Takashi shrugged, “We’ve missed you Haruhi.”

She locked eyes with Takashi and saw a sadness buried beneath his usual stoic gaze. It nearly made her gasp to see her silent senior with pleading eyes. 

She sighed, “Even you Mori-senpai… Have I really been that horrible?” 

“Yes you have,” Hikaru said matter of factly, crossing his arms sternly, “and you now must pay the price.”

“What do you say Haruhi?” Kaoru asked quietly, nudging her side again.

What should Haruhi do?

Vote Here - (poll will close at 9:00pm ETS)

Next chapter update should be up by 10:00pm ETS