#oh the stars have aligned because i have just regained the will to live after a hell week hehehehe

[bunnychadwell]

Jupiter wasn't alone in her feelings regarding their friendship and the time it had taken to get to the level of comfort they found themselves at. Realistically speaking they were probably in a better place than they'd ever been, on a much more even playing field than when they'd been kids. They'd lost that superficial rivalry and allowed themselves the space to grow into two individuals. Perhaps that was how friendship was supposed to be. Bunny wouldn't have known, she'd been raised to win, not to care.

"So...?" she mimicked Jupiter, looking up from her phone. Technically speaking she'd promised Pink she would disengage from work when she was with her loved ones but sometimes it was hard not to give in to the temptation and have a tiny peek at her emails. Still, she wasn't so engrossed that she couldn't set her phone aside in favour of listening to Jupiter. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I'm only endeared by Pink's terrible jokes, maybe even Tate's at a stretch." The subtext was that she'd never consider anyone good enough for her best friend, and she wasn't the type to hold her tongue so she didn't want to end up causing friction. "I think that's how it's supposed to feel," she pointed out, smiling because it felt like she was finally on the other side of the conversation. "Stop looking for something to freak out about. What is it you people always say to me? Relax?"

“So….” Jupiter had just gotten used to being at Bunny’s place again. Sure they were some years away from their initial falling out, the tension with their relationships with Pink, Jupiter’s own ongoing existential crisis but it all still felt new and familiar at the same time. Jupiter was grateful for it really, realizing that no matter where she went or who she knew, Bunny would always be her best friend. Jupiter had changed a lot but in many ways she hadn’t and in so many ways she would always need Bunny to remind her of who she was at her core. “I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me and Knox some time soon. I mean it can be you and Pink as well, I just wasn’t sure if we were all in double dating territory. Really I just want him to get to know my best friend. I think it’d be sweet. He’d probably make some terrible jokes and you’d end up being completely endeared. He has that effect. And I don’t know, actually I do know, I really like him, Bun. It’s kind of freaking me out that it’s not freaking me out.”

[pingutats]

at last!

it’s the morning after harry proposed, and here you are, in heaven.

warnings: some sexual content, not very graphic.

word count: 2k

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As soon as you start to drift awake, you feel this overwhelming sense of bliss. Like everything is right in the world, properly aligned and in harmony. Your heart feels full, warm like the way a lover would cradle their hands around yours on a chilly winter night. 

The thing that pulls you completely from the gentle embrace of sleep into the morning is someone actually grabbing your left hand. Not just someone, but Harry. And, you remember suddenly like a crack of lightning bursting through your sleep-weary skull, he isn’t just Harry, he’s —

“Morning, love,” he murmurs, his voice croaky and slightly slurred from sleep still, as he pulls your hand over to him and slips the ring back onto your fourth finger. “Y’always look so pretty in the morning. ‘Specially today.”

“H,” you whisper back, barely able to form a coherent thought. He’s your fiancé. You blink your eyes open, rubbing at them as you adjust to the weak light streaming through a window. “Oh my god, Harry.”

He’s grinning at you, eyes still half-closed. He brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the ring. “Oh my god, Y/N,” he repeats back, and you giggle.

You hold your hand up to the light, twisting your wrist so the small, classic diamond sparkles.  You’ve seen it before, of course. You’ve known what it looks like for ages. The two of you picked it out together in a store a couple months ago. You’ve spoken about this moment, over and over — sometimes in practical terms to try and plan for your future, sometimes whimsically as you spelled out your wildest dreams to each other — but now it’s here. It’s real.

He was insistent on being the one to propose. You could pick the ring, the wedding venue, write the guest list and choose his outfit and even curate the reception playlist, he offered— as long as he got to propose. You accepted, of course, without the bargaining. You wanted him to do it anyway.

Harry isn’t one for grand gestures. When you first met him, only knowing him as the glamorous rockstar that he performs as when he’s on stage, you had assumed he would be into the massive displays of affection, the lavish gifts and the kind of relationship that no one can tear their eyes away from. But he isn’t really like that.

Harry is a cup of tea set out for you in the morning before you even ask for one. The last segment of the mandarin he was eating, held out for you to take. A hundred kisses to your cheek over the course of a night out, for no particular reason except that he’s tipsy and he loves you. A playlist that he texts to you with a sweet note in the description. Making the bed by himself before you’re done brushing your teeth. Carrying you from the car to the door at three in the morning because your heels are killing you and he’d rather roll around naked on broken glass than see you in any amount of pain at all.

That’s what Harry is. So it made sense that, rather than flying you out to Paris and organising a string quartet to play in the background while he got down on one knee under the Eiffel Tower at night (something you had joked about often), he did it in his own little unassuming way. 

You wanted a surprise. That was all you asked. If he was going to ask, he better make it good.

It wasn’t big. It wasn’t grand or especially beautiful. You had been baking together all afternoon: flour all over the place, a small pile of chocolate chips that you’d “accidentally dropped” on the counter and were snacking on, cookies in the oven making the kitchen smell all warm and cosy. The echoes of your laughs and playful banter still lingered in the room. An Etta James album was playing in the background — Harry’s choice, of course. You were bending in front of the oven to check on the cookies. 

“They’re looking good, H,” you said, gazing at them.

“Y/N,” he said from behind you.

“I think we’ve got a perfect batch on our hands.” You straightened up, reaching over to swipe a couple more chocolate chips from the shrinking pile. “Better than last time, those were all hard and —”

“Darling,” he said, a bit more firmly.

“Yeah?” You turned around, sucking on the chocolate, and froze.

There was Harry, on one knee on the kitchen floor, holding a little box and smiling gently up at you.

“Hi,” was all you managed to breathe out, once you regained the ability to move.

“Hello,” he said, smile growing. He cleared his throat. “I love you so much, you know?”

“Harry, you’ve got flour on your nose.”

“Do I?” He was grinning widely now, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he tried not to laugh. “I’ll fix that later, love, got something more important to do right now.”

“Okay.” Your voice was shaking slightly.

He chuckled, and then took a deep breath to steady himself. “Y/N. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You make my days better, every day. Most gorgeous, funniest, kindest, sweetest girl I ever met. You’re so fucking amazing — sorry, I shouldn’t swear. Probably ruins the moment.”

“It doesn’t,” you said quickly. You could feel tears threatening to prickle at your eyes. “Keep going.”

“Nothing’s going to stop me, angel,” he promised. He set his face, playing at being very somber. “I really need to ask you something.”

You bit your lip through a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause every day I wake up and hug you and I think to myself that I never want to let go of you. Ever.” 

You nodded, unable to speak for fear that you would just collapse from how unbelievably sweet he is.

“Y/N,” he said, finally. He took a deep breath and pulled open the lid of the little box, and there was your ring. His smile returned to his face again, bright and dimpled and so Harry you nearly starting sobbing right there. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” You were saying it before he even finished his sentence. “Yes, yes, yes, yes—” and you kept saying it until he was back on his feet and had swept you up in the tightest hug, pulling you into his chest and spinning both of you around. 

You clutched at the front of his fuzzy sweater and pulled him into a kiss that made the world feel like it was shifting. Because it had. Everything had changed now. It felt like the two of you had taken the world and cracked it open like a walnut, finding a completely new kind of life inside. A kind of life where you both completely, irrevocably, belonged to each other.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he rubbed his flour-covered nose over yours, then pecked another kiss on your cheek. “Got flour all over you, love.”

“Best go take a shower, then,” you said to him, grinning.

He raised his eyebrows, that mischievous glint in his eye that you so adored appearing. “Yeah? Okay, whatever my beautiful fiancee wants.” He let you take his hand and start to pull him toward the bathroom, before he suddenly jerked you back, making you stumble into his chest. “Shit,” he murmured. “Give me your hand, darling.”

“Oh.” You held out your left hand, and gently he slid the ring onto your finger.

He looked up at you, eyes shining. “Can’t believe I nearly forgot the most important part.”

“Me too. Silly goose.” 

He snorted, and you leaned forward to kiss him again. He held his hands to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. He was warm, his embrace firm, his mouth gentle. Tasting him, the sweetness of the cookie dough he had been stealing out of the bowl, the vanilla of the lip balm he used — you could have lived in that kiss forever. Any kiss, really. You weren’t picky when it came to Harry. But he pulled back, and ran his hands down to the back of your thighs.

“Jump, darling,” he whispered, and he pulled you up to wrap your legs around his waist, your arms looped behind his neck. He pressed his lips to yours again, then carried you to the bathroom, your giggles echoing through the house.

He got on his knees for you again in the shower — “Wanna treat my fiancee like a proper gentleman” —  with your leg thrown over his shoulder, your hand with the ring in his hair, your head thrown back against the tiled wall. He was always good (outstanding in the field, you would joke) but somehow today he was better. Like he was trying to tell you something just by the way he licked up your folds and sucked on your sensitive little bud until you were shaking and your hand tightened in his hair in a way that was surely painful. Like he was trying to show you just how much he loved you, as if everything else wasn’t already enough.

Later, you opened up the expensive bottle of champagne you’d been saving and split it over the takeout he had ordered over the phone in a rush while your hands were slowly creeping down his bare chest and playing with the waistband of the sweatpants he had thrown on after the shower. You ate outside. It was a pleasant night and as stars started to dust over the sky, you were sure they were shining just a little bit brighter.

And when you finally made it into bed, he was immediately over you, his arms snaking underneath you and hugging you to his chest while he thrust into you, deep and passionate. He had his head buried in your neck, his moans vibrating into your skin and you knew he was feeling more than just the physical. It was beyond that for both of you. Treasure this moment, you kept thinking. Keep this day safe forever.

You came together. As he got close, his steady rhythm starting to falter, he grabbed your left hand and pushed it down into the mattress, so you could feel the ring pressing into your skin. That was what sent the both of you over the edge.

Sleep came easily, your limbs still tangled together, your ring lying on the bedside table because you were scared to sleep with it. Harry must have fallen asleep after you — as you dozed off, you could hear the rustling of his pillow as he kept turning his head to look at the ring glinting in the full moon’s light coming through the window. His strong arm wrapped around you, holding you close, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat lull you to sleep.

“I’m so fucking happy,” he says now, in the morning, quietly, breaking the silence that had descended over you. He says it like it could be the last sentence he ever speaks. A neat epilogue.

You look at him, your arm still raised in the air between you. His eyes are trained on the diamond, and you could swear his eyes are sparkling just as much as the jewel is. He blinks, and glances back to you. “So, so fucking happy.”

“Me too,” you tell him. You let your hand drop, finding his and intertwining your fingers. “Love being engaged.” The word rolls off your tongue easily, and that was thrilling. You’re engaged. “’S better than I imagined. Better than anything else, ever.”

“Mm,” he hums, running his thumb over the ring, and then along the empty space of your finger just below it. “I think it just keeps getting better from here, love.”

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hope you enjoyed!! i wrote this in barely two hours around midnight (obviously with at last by etta james playing in the background) because i just had to get this concept onto a page. it’s only been very lightly edited so if there were mistakes or it was structured messily ........ sorry. but i am just so in love with these very domestic, un-grandiose proposals because the important thing is the love between the two rather than the big displays... yeah. anyway hope you liked and if you want to send me a request or just chat, my askbox is very much open!!!

[yaneyanedaze]

Our Goddess In Love and War

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Yandere! Royal! Pillarmen x Reader

Summary: Reader-Darling is a girl that lives in a village close to the kingdom ruled by the three kings: Esidisi, Whamuu and Kars. She doesn’t see what everyone else sees in them, and keeps away, but one day, she’ll catch their eyes, and they won’t ever leave her.

Warnings: smut later on in this chapter, yandere behavior, obsession, possessiveness, death, mentions of torture, jealously, Kars puts his foot down with disrespectful maids, reader-chan tries to leave because of threats.

A/n: I apologize for how long this took, But i’m glad to be back writing my big series! I hope you guys enjoy this long awaited chapter update!

(Unrelated but i was listening to Montero by Lil Nas X while writing this, and It was giving me Mad Kars vibes lol but I’m gonna put my playlist for this story at the bottom)

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I sighed and plopped down onto my comfy bed and slipped out of the dress and heels, I didn’t care about my hair, I’d just get up and wash in the morning. I snuggled into my pillow, at first I didn’t want to do any of this, but now I can’t help but feel  some type of attraction to the male. I mean he’s going to officially be my husband in a few days, but I still couldn’t shake this feeling that something was wrong..

….And something bad was gonna happen….

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(First Pov)

I was nervous.

I was dressed in a wonderful purple dress, a slit along the side, matching golden heels on my feet. Several maids were running around my room, preparing everything for me. My hair was styled and had many pieces of golden jewelry dangling off my body, I smiled at myself in the mirror. 

“I can’t believe this is happening…” 

A few giggles were heard around me, one maid with blonde hair and baby blue eyes smiled at me. Her name is Liza, she was the maid in charge of making sure that I was perfect for events like this. She was the only other person in charge of my dress besides Stella. Liza speaks up as she places the finishing touches on me,

“Oh Believe it My Queen, We can tell how much his majesty loves you, so we are happy!” She says, giving me a twirl as the other maids clapped. I nod smiling along with the women before a rapid knock was heard at the door. All of us turned towards the door and let out a sigh as it was only Stella at the door. Stella gives a sheepish smile as she walks in.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but his majesty is asking for his Queen.” She says. Liza and the other maids nod, picking up the end of my dress, I began walking out the door with the girls following close behind me.

As we walked down the hallways, they were decorated with (f/c) flowers, gold and various other precious metals aligned the hall we walked down. I could hear the hustle and bustle of the people outside, nervousness creeping right back up on me. I took a deep breath as two guards opened the door revealing me to the outside world. 

Many cheers were heard, so many people were screaming and yelling. I winced at the bright light, a deep chuckle came from behind me, arms wrapping around my waist. I tensed up a bit, only earning a laugh. “My love there is no need to be afraid, it is just me..” 

I sigh and relax a bit, Kars felt strangely warm and comfortable, i felt his hands move down to my hips as he moves us both forward.

We stood on top of the stairs, both of us waving to the crowd, I giggle at some of the kids that I met in the village yelling to me and holding up signs that said. ‘We are best friends with the Queen’. Kars stepped away from me slightly, and I let out a soft whine before I knew it, I blushed, quite embarrassed but Kars just chuckled again.

“Save your whines for tonight my love, Because I’ll have you saying and thinking nothing but my name.” He whispered in my ear before stepping away to get the crown.

My face went completely red as I tried to regain my composure, I walked down the stairs to greet some of the townspeople. Smiling as a group of kids handed me a pretty bouquet of flowers, “Why thank you all.”

 “Your welcome Miss (y/n)!”  “Will we be able to visit you in the castle?” “Is the king nice?” “Are you gonna have kids of your own?” I laughed at the many questions they asked before getting taken away and scolded lightly by their parents.

“(y/n)!!” “Oh my baby you look wonderful!”

I looked up and had a half smile, My mother and sister walked up to me, both of them with tears in their eyes. I rolled my eyes but took both of them into my arms, allowing some tears down my face. Though I still held some anger towards my mom for just giving me up, but I couldn’t help myself, I was glad to have her in my arms.

“My love, Please come up here, It is time.”

I stand up and turn to walk back up, seeing Kars with the same beautiful crown that I saw when I first arrives, the jewel dangling beautifully from it. A smile graced my lips as I stood right infront Kars, I felt a feeling of Joy in my body, the fear that I had when I first came was slowly going away. Kars returned the look as he turned to face the crowd.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, We are gathered here today to celebrate the arrival of my Beautiful, Wonderful and Lovely Queen.” Kars started, I nod along, watching his every movement, He was beautiful, an absolute masterpiece. I still wondered what he would want with a half baked potato like me. I was pulled out of my trance by a weight on my head, realizing he had placed the crown on top of my head. He looked down at me with a look that I’ve never seen before on him, Care, Love, like he genuinely loved me. He then turned back to the crowd pulling me close to him.

“I do hope that you all will continue to watch over us, and grow alongside us.” He spoke before placing a hand underneath my chin. He lifts it slightly before leaning down to capture my lips in a soft, loving kiss, I was shocked, but only for a bit. I soon wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. This must’ve surprised him because he pulled away slightly and whispered. “Oh you little minx~ Just wait until we get behind closed doors..” He placed another quick kiss on my lips before backing away and waving to the cheering crowd. He placed a hand on my lower back as I raised my hand to wave as well, seeing many of the crowd was moved to tears.

I guess seeing one of their own go from literally rags to riches is enough to get anyone crying.

Kars led me back inside, humming to himself softly, his hand firmly placed on my hip. “Kars..may I ask a question?” I ask, making the male let out a soft laugh. “My love, You just did.. But go ahead” He teased, making me puff out my cheeks in tiny annoyance. I sighed and went ahead with asking my question. “Um..Is it okay if my Mom and Sister come and live with us?”

Kars stopped walking, I thought it was because of what I said, but sighed with relief when he was just opening his room, well our room door. He ushered me inside and closed the door behind him. “Of course they can, My Darling…” He started, locking the door, pulling it to make sure it was secured. “But that’s not what I’m worried about right now.” He purrs, a sultry undertone in his voice. I could feel another blush coming on, I went to sit on the bed and just flopped on my back. I let out a groan of satisfaction as to how soft his bed was, making Kars let out a low growl, one that sent shivers down my spine.

“You do not know how hard it was for me to not take you where we stood.”

I let out a squeak as the male was now on top of me, I didn’t notice that he had moved from his place by the door. He placed his face in the crook of my neck as he kept me pinned down, strong hands holding mine against the bed. He let out another low growl as he continued. “It took everything in me to not take you in front of the crowd, Letting them all know that you belong to me now.” He finished, placing kisses on the side of my neck. I could only let out a sigh of content as his kisses moved lower. I watched as he hovered over my chest, which was still covered by the fabric of the dress. He sat up and smirked, I looked at him confused before in one movement he ripped the dress. Going up from the slit until it reached my chest, he then removed the torn fabric from my body, chuckling at my reaction to the coldness of the room.

“I’ll buy you another one, my love, but right now, I need you more than ever.” He said, he then lifted my legs up onto his shoulder, earning another noise of shock from me. He let out another groan of annoyance before ripping my panties from my body. I shuddered at the new cold, but before I could comment, I let out a loud moan. Kars smirked before giving another long teasing lick “Don’t worry about me tonight. It’s all about you Darling, but after tonight, I will not hold back.” He says before he started to tongue fuck me. A completely new feeling that already having me seeing stars and it did not help that Kars was unrelenting either.

He pulled back a bit licking the slick that was left on his lips off before rubbing two fingers against my folds. He looked at me as if asking for permission, and when I gave him a soft nod he smirked once more, slowly pushing two of his fingers into me. He groaned at the sounds that I was making, he picked up the pace quickly, barely giving me anytime to adjust.

“K-kars..” I moaned out, my hands gripping the smooth silk sheets below me. He hummed in response, glancing back over to me. “Hmm? What is it, my love?” He asked teasingly as he increased the speed of his digits, I squirmed underneath him as I struggled to find the words to say. “D-don’t..” I managed to moan, feeling a knot building up, I was close and he seemed to know it. “Say it my love, I know you are enjoying this so much, the way you are clenching around just my fingers. It makes me wonder how you’ll take my cock~” My body automatically reacted to his teasing words, my hips bucking against his fingers, his pace brutal now. “D-don’t hold back..” I couldn’t even believe what I was saying just now. I’ve only had sex once before and it was clumsly to say the least, so for me to practically beg the King not to hold back was surprising.

He must’ve been surprised too because began chuckling before full on laughing, he removed his fingers causing me to let out a whine. 

“My Darling woman, are you sure?” He asked as he stood up off of the bed. I nodded, my head cloudy, still whining from feeling empty. Kars quietly removed his bottoms, kicking them somewhere off to the side of the room, he pull me by my legs to the end of the bed.

I looked at his face, and a different expression was there. Lust. Eyes clouded over as he looked over my body. He teasingly pressed himself up against my folds and I gasped. Looking down this man was probably 9.5 inches with about a 1.5 girth, ‘How in the hell is that supposed to fit in me?!’ I thought.

Kars chuckled at the expression on my face. “I know, i know my love, I’m going to take my time so you can get adjusted.” He says, slowly guiding himself inside me. Just from his head, I already felt like he wouldn’t fit, but as he slowly inched more and more inside, he stretched me out wonderfully. Once he was fully inside of me, he gave a slow experimental thrust, pulling almost all the way out before snapping his hips back. I cried out in pain and pleasure, he set a slow pace, everytime, he snapped his hips in just the right way to hit that spot. The pain was fading fast, and I wanted more than this slow pace he had.

“Kars..Please just fuck me…”

My words must’ve made him snap, soon after those words left my lips he began thrusting at a more violent and fast pace, making me cry out in pleasure. His name was falling off my lips like a mantra, He was hitting just the right spot everytime. I managed to look up at him, his eyes were half open, jaw locked as he let some groans and grunts. One thrust had me seeing stars, I did not care how loud i was being at this point and I’m pretty sure any servant that walked by could hear.

One of Kars hands slowly snaked its was up to my neck and gave it a slight squeeze. “Tell me who’s fucking you this good, Tell me darling.” He growled out. I moaned out his name loud, practically screaming it at this point. He smirked “Louder. I want them to know who you belong to (y/n)”

“You Kars!”

 “Louder!”

 “KARS!” 

I cried out feeling that familiar knot unraveling, I could feel myself clenching around his cock, making him curse and growl.

 “That’s it..That’s it..You’re mine, No one else's..”

 He moans out, feeling his thrust start to get sloppy until that came to a complete halt and he was spilling his seed into me. He stayed in place until he finished before slowly pulling out. He moved to lay beside me and pull me into his chest. I turned to give him a kiss but he just held me in place. “Shh..My Love, You’re tired..Let's just rest, Tomorrow you can relax all day and I’ll have someone come check in on you.” He mumbled, running his hand through my hair, I hummed in response, feeling sleep starting to creep up on me.

“I love you Kars..” I mutter, feeling my eyes getting heavy, I hear him chuckle and place a kiss on my forehead. 

“I love you too My Darling~...”

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When I awoke,it was still dark outside.

I was dressed in a nightgown and Kars was gone, I yawned softly and got up out of bed. I nearly fell because the feeling in my legs was barely there, I blushed remembering the activities. I slowly made my way to the door only to have someone else open the door. 

“Ah Good Hello Stell-”

“Don’t you Hello me you whore.”

I was taken back by her words and angry expression. “Excuse me?” I was confused. She let out a yell of frustration. “It’s your fault! You are the reason I am not Queen! A common bitch like you!” She barked. I was hurt, I thought of Stella as a nice woman, but now she’s showing a totally different side of herself. I moved to push past her and head out the door but her words made me stop.

“Hell You’re just gonna be like the other girl before you!”

I stopped and turned to face her. “Say what?” She laughed at me before crossing her arms. “You thought you were picked out because they thought you were interesting? No, It’s because you look like Kar’s previous wife. He killed her. He only wants someone who is powerful enough to use the stone thats on the crown.” She saunters her way over to my crown and holds it in her hands. “You’re just going to be another dead body.”

I stood horrified, Mom told me that the previous Queen had died of illness, not that she was killed by Kars. “No..No He wouldn’t do that to me. He loves me.” Stella lets out another loud laugh before looking at me with a deadpan look. “He told me that too. He told me he loves me and that I’m special. I was going to be queen if it wasn’t for you.” She growled, marching forward, “So why don’t you do me a favor and run away. Run far from here..So that My King, no my Husband would have to dirty his hand with more blood” She said.

 I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and I ran out of the room, hearing her evil cackles from the room.

I went up to several maids and butlers to ask where Kars and the other kings were, but even they would not talk to me. I could feel even more tears run down my face as I ran through the halls, I burst open a door feeling the coldness of the outside and run down the stairs.

 At the bottom of the stairs stood Kars himself talking to a guard. I turned to take another way around the castle, an exit that I saw earlier when I first arrived. It was cold,I was freezing, but I couldn’t not bring myself to look Kars in the face anymore. What if I was just another body? What if he’ll ditch me and get another woman? Hell, if Stella said was true, was he just using me?

So many thoughts were running through my head, I didn’t even notice that I had bumped into someone. “I’m s-sorry..”

“My Queen, what are you doing out?” It was Esidisi, I gasped and began crying even more as I dropped to my knees. “He doesn’t love me Esi! He..He is..Just using me..” I cried out, my cries loud and echoing off the outside walls. Multiple footsteps could be heard running up to us.”My Darling?” I hear Kars call out, I continue to cry, I should have known that royalty like him wouldn’t love a commoner like me. I might as well give up the crown and just go home.

I could feel someone pick me up and hold me bridal style in their arms. “Esidisi. What is she doing out here?” “I don’t know, She ran into me crying about how you do not truly love her and you are using her.” I heard Kars suck in breath and hold me even tighter. “Who said this to you?” He asked me. I shook my head and kept crying, he shushed me and carried me back inside.

He holds me in his arms continuously telling me how much he loved me and to not listen to those rumors. When he entered the main ballroom where most maids were cleaning. “Excuse me. Who in the world told my Queen that I don’t love her?” he barked. I wiped my eyes, watching as each and everyone of the servants who gave me the cold shoulder. Kars sucked his teeth before moving to carry me like i was a child so he could have a free hand. He gripped one maid by her hair, making her let out an ear piercing scream. “I said tell me.”

“AH One of the Head maids your majesty!! She started spreading rumors, but Stella tried to stop her but she kept going.” I rolled my eyes knowing this fully to be a lie. Kars threw her across the room with his brute strength. “Oh you’ll receive a proper punishment soon. But now I have to deal with my Queen.” He said coldly, moving back to holding me with two arms. I lay my head comfortable on Kars shoulder, my cheeks stained with tears as I ended up falling back asleep in his arms.

“My Queen, don’t you worry..I will find out who did this to you..who lied on my name and made you feel unworthy of my love.”

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To say he was pissed was an understatement. Kars had laid (y/n) back in their shared bed, he then charged in the servant quarters scaring all of them.

Those servants wished that they would have spoken up, or comforted the queen in that moment, they suffered severe beatings, threats and some of them were even sent to the dungeon. 

All while Stella Listened and laughed.

“One step closer...Just one step closer.”

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I hope you enjoyed this chapter! 

My playlist for this entire story is 

Montero By Lil Nas X

Alejandro and Bad Romance by Lady Gaga

Streets By Doja Cat

Paparazzi: Kim Dracula

What songs does this story make you think of?

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[zmartiarty]

Do George and Dream ever spar in your au? Like in a friendly not for training but just as a daft bet or when bored thing? Like how Dream and George play duels against each other on Hypixel and Dream pretty much always wins XD.

If so, does Dream always win in your au? What are the punishments/rewards since gifting subs isn't really a thing you can do in that world? Do gods even have laundry??

Also hi! I've been away for a lil while! But I'll probs be back with a few more less paragraphy questions. They'll most likely be more lighthearted too because I'm in the mood for cute things :)

Let's see if that mood lasts long enough for me to get to writing the questions XD

~ 💭

Oh they spar all right

Yes, they have their friendly sparing, mind you their lifetimes are typically pretty long and can last a few hundred years as gods. So they have plenty of time to be on peaceful terms and spar, duel, fight and make up with a passionate kiss. Yeah, you name it they've probably done it somewhere along the lines. A lot of Manhunt -esque scenarios between the gods. These GodHunts usually mark a universal change, tired to the stars, planets aligning, moon phases, solar or lunar events, etc etc. Sometimes these hunts will be as gods, other times as animals etc etc. Although this never ends in their deaths. The GodHunts are seen as festivals and celebrations essentially.

ok back to the question of fights/spars

Although, the spars and betting fights pale in comparison to their true battles at full power.... when war returns and peace falters the gods step in to end the manifestations of mortals' corruption (the prime gods reflect the lives and status of the earth they control)(so during times of high strife and war, pain and loss, corruption and greed usually one of the gods will absorb that energy and it will be reflected in their powers and outlook on the state of nature. Essentially humanity determines if the gods will tip the scale between order and chaos.) Ofc that usually ends in one of them dying so..... and then the cycle restarting. Usually, when one god dies (HD, XD, or even Pandas) the others will be so overcome with grief they too will return to the Aether(void?heaven?code?limbo?space?) in a few days/weeks/months' time (usually after they take care and prep their worldly affairs to be taken care of in their absence). They will shed their god form, passing away, and restarting the cycle for each of them.

Mostly they do it because they don't want to be alone, and prefer to experience birth and life together in every lifetime, it's easier to rebuild into gods again from scratch together and have their relationships on the same page than being from two different lifetimes. Yes, they do regain their memories of previous lives once reascending into godhood but it's always in the gods' best interests to experience their short mortal human years together. Also, the time between a god's death and their rebirth can be anywhere from 80 to 1000+ years. So yeah better to start from scratch, together.

Note: Pandas doesn't always follow the other's suit and join them in death. As his duties are far more mortally driven as well as overseeing the Nether personally. While he doesn't always reincarnate, he still does, but not as much as he did during the first 100 or so cycles.

Uh

uh oh I ended up lore dumping LMAO haven't done that in a while. hope that answered the question at least.... but it spiraled into explaining a bit about their reincarnations.

[seriouslysnape]

“I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

I found this prompt and immediately had to come to you (you’re my favorite Snape writer ever)!

Maybe, if you want, write this with a student aged Snape, who has a horrible dream about his best friend he’s secretly in love with, and so he sneaks into the girls’ dormitory and tells her this. (You can leave the house unnamed or something the reader can fill in.) And then they go into the common room together and sit in front of fireplace and talk it out to get him relaxed and a lot of romantic fluff follows!

SO you woke up today and chose hella fluff, huh? YOU GOT IT.

Also, thank you! You’re too sweet! :)

__

Night Fright

Young Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,750

“I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

__

His eyes snapped open in an instant, his lungs involuntarily taking a sharp inhale. It took him a second to identify where he was, or even what time it was. He eventually realized he was in his dorm room, and it was an ungodly late hour. His breathing became ragged and heavy as he tried to regain himself, reminding himself that he was safe in the comfort of his room.

He tried to slow his breathing, not wanting to wake up his roommates, who were all snoozing peacefully. He wiped at the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead, ultimately pushing his hair from sticking to his clammy skin. His skinny legs were trembling something awful, and his fingers were so tingly that he could barely move them.

He sat up in his bed, taking another gander around his dorm. A sigh of relief flowed from his chest as it resonated with him once more that he was okay. Even more so, that you were okay. He had bad dreams before, but nothing like this. It had been so graphic and so real, he was sure that it had actually happened. It was even worse that you had been in it.

He tossed back the covers on his bed, swinging his feet over the side, and standing up. He knew you were fine, but he wanted to be absolutely sure. He would feel better if he actually saw you and heard your voice. He threw on a t-shirt, not bothering with pants since his boxers were enough and no one would really see him. He caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall saying it was half past 2:00 AM. He groaned to himself, annoyed that his sleep had been so abruptly interrupted.

He tip-toed past his roommates, creeping out of his dorm as quietly as possible. Thankfully, Severus had always been rather light on his feet. He knew what he was doing was totally against the rules. If he was caught sneaking into your dormitory, he’d definitely be punished or maybe even suspended until further notice. Severus grumbled at the thought of him getting in trouble for doing something that James Potter and his friends did all the time and were never scolded for.

His heart still felt like it would burst out of his chest, but his breathing had slowed to a more normal rate. The hallways were eerily quiet, the only sounds were his bare feet shuffling on the hard floors. He was glad no one was out, because he was sure that he looked like a wreck.

As he came closer to your dorm room, he wondered if you were still up. You had always been a bit of a night owl, so there was a possibility you were awake. However, it was the end of the week, so you were probably sleeping it off. He still had this feeling of paranoia that something was wrong.

He managed to shield his face from any portraits, although most of them were asleep anyways. He said a silent prayer that you were okay. He made it to your dorm, suddenly feeling kind of weird for entering a room with a bunch of sleeping girls. Much to his relief though, you were curled up in bed, sound asleep. He let out an exhale as he saw your chest rise and fall with each steady breath.

“She’s okay, Severus…she’s fine.” He whispered to himself, resting a hand on his still heavy beating chest.

He crept around your roommates’ things until he was in your space. He checked to make sure that no one had followed him before resting a hand on your shoulder, shaking gently.

“[Y/N], wake up.” He whispered quietly.

You let out a rather loud disgruntled groan, annoyed that someone was trying to wake you up. Severus winced, hoping you wouldn’t wake anyone up. You stirred for a moment, but collapsed back into your pillow.

He fought the urge to laugh, and shook you a little harder this time.

“Come on. [Y/N], wake up please.” He whispered again.

Your eyes actually peeked open this time, peering at him with an irritated look. Your aggravation didn’t last long. You immediately noticed that something was up with him. Mainly because he had never snuck into your dorm without telling you first, and also because he looked about 50 shades of terrible.

“Sev?” You murmured groggily, rubbing your eyes as you sat up from your mattress; “What are you doing here?”

He bit the inside of his cheek in thought. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit that he had come all the way up here just to check on you. That seemed a little weird, and maybe even protective. Not that you minded Severus going out of his way to see you, but he wasn’t sure how kindly you’d take to him breaking in.

“I...just needed to see you.” He half-lied.

You quirked a curious brow at that. This was odd behavior, even for him. One of your roommates turned over with a creak, causing Severus to jump. You laughed under your breath, throwing back the covers of your bed and putting on a jacket.

“Come on. Let’s go to the common room so we can talk.” You said persuading him out of your room.

“Are you sure? You can go back to bed, I just...came by.” He replied, blushing hard when you took his hand into yours.

You noted how his hands were still shaking. His skin that was usually cold was flushed warm. Something had rattled him to his core.

“Yeah, I’m sure. She’s not a pretty sight when she doesn’t get her beauty sleep.” You said, referring to one of your roommates who was dead to the world.

You both snickered as you guided him down the staircase into your House’s common room. There was already a roaring fire, likely from whoever was the last person to turn in for the night. You and Severus settled on the couch in front of it, soaking in the warmth that the fire was emitting. Severus had grown quiet now, his eyes dead set on his fiddling hands in his lap.

You looked over him. He was notably tired. His hair was a disheveled mess from where he didn’t even bother to brush it, he had dark circles under his eyes, and his eyelids weighed heavy. Something was bothering him.

“Did something happen?” You asked at a more comfortable volume than before, but your tone was still light.

He figured that you ought to know the real reason for his surprise visit. No matter how much he liked you, he would probably never slink into your bedside “just to see you”. He sighed, averting his gaze to you.

“I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He confessed, feeling a little silly about it.

His words really tugged at your heartstrings. You had been best friends with him for years, and every day he seemed to care more and more about you. You let out a soft, sympathetic noise and scooted a little closer to him.

“You’re so sweet, Sev. I’m okay,” You assured him, resting a hand on his knee; “Do you want to talk about it?”

He felt a lot better after seeing you, feeling you, and hearing you. He was always so afraid of something happening to you. You were always the best part of his day.

“It was one of those dreams where I knew I was dreaming, but it still felt real. I was standing with you out by the lake, and then this...thing showed up and grabbed you,” He explained, his eyes opening a little wider; “Next thing I knew, you were gone and all I could hear was you screaming. I was scared. I didn’t know what happened to you, or where you went, or if I’d ever see you again...”

His pulse had quickened as he recalled the ghastly details of his dream. He just hoped he’d be able to sleep again after that. You felt horrible for him. You threw your arms around him, wrapping him in a hug. He slowly returned the embrace, burying his nose in your shirt, smelling your familiar scent. You never wanted him to worry about you.

“I’m so lucky to have someone who cares like you do,” You confessed, kissing his cheek and causing him to blush once more; “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He was tempted to bring a hand to his cheek where you had just left a kiss. He wanted to savor the feeling forever. You refused to let him go, still hugging him until you knew he felt better.

“That’s why I was so scared. If something had happened to you...oh, I don’t know what I would do.” Severus proclaimed.

Now it was your turn to blush. You pulled back from the hug, but still kept your arms wrapped around his shoulders, his hands somehow found their way to your waist, but your head was so focused on what he was saying that you didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you saying you can’t live without me?” You wondered, really hoping that this was his way of admitting his feelings for you.

You wanted this. He just had to say one little word and you were his forever. Severus didn’t say anything for a moment, and you internally cursed him for getting shy on you now. But he did, eventually, reply as clearly as ever.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying,” He said; “I love you. A million times over I’ll tell you that I love you.”

You were stunned, overwhelmed, and thrilled all at the same time. Leave it to Severus Snape to profess his love for you at almost 3 o’clock in the morning. But you didn’t care that you were missing out on precious sleep. This was way better than that.

“Oh, Severus...” You breathed, surging forward and kissing him.

He felt as if time stopped. The stars had perfectly aligned in his favor for once. The girl he was willing to bear his heart to was kissing him as if he were the only other person in the world. He was undeniably happy in this moment. You were with him, you were safe, you were perfect, and you loved him back.

That was all he’d ever want.

[oristromboli]

If You Be Our Star, We’ll Be Your Sky | 6

Chapter Title: Punishment

The fierce sounds of arguments melt into clashing weapons in the Liyue landscape as all frustrations are released in bloody fury.

Punishment is thus dolled out on the sore, sore loser.

(Smut this chapter: Reader/Childe, M/F)

(Warnings: rough and angry sex after a fight, power dynamic struggles, being very very mean to each other - not a fluffy first time between them given that it's Childe and his implied mission. please be careful if this isn’t your cup of tea!)

CW: the first segment describes Childe making a hunt! Canon-typical violence, but just in case: one paragraph starts with "Childe kneels down - " and another one is "With a firm - "

Childe takes a slow breath in, and on his exhale, releases the arrow, watching as it sinks into the boar’s side.

Damn, he was never good with a bow. He strolls leisurely up to the animal, frowning when he notices the pitiful struggle as it tries to move despite the mortal wound. Poor thing thinks it still has a chance.

Childe kneels down and reaches out to the pig, running his hands gently through the matted fur. He watches as its breathing becomes labored; each unsteady drag likely pushes its lungs against the arrow. How many ways did he watch the abyss deny death to the unfortunate prey wandering in? A quick death was mercy never granted in that suffocating darkness.

He feels black armor fighting to grow from his skin, feels the electricity pulling him taut as he smiles softly, running his hand up to cup the boar’s head.

With a firm twist, Childe snaps its neck and the body goes limp.

Blood from the arrow wound trickles onto his gloves, and he raises his hand to lick it idly away. His frown returns when he realizes that the flaming need in him is barely sated.

Warbled and demented noises creep up towards him from between the cracks in the earth.

Grunting, he hoists the animal over his shoulders and starts walking again while whistling a lullaby.

 ---

 Birds call overhead while the wind rustles through the emerald leaves around you in this little outcrop by the river. The sun felt warm, kissing the back of your neck gently as you took in your surroundings, counting each fish that crested the surface as they leaped further upstream.

Though you normally take these moments of isolation to regain your internal serenity, you didn’t necessarily hate the fact that Childe insisted on tagging along. Yet, confusion still wrung your head as to why he came along on a commission so far off the beaten path. Even Aether would complain at such a wildlife excursion.

“Hey girlie,” Childe calls, grinning wide and bubbles up a rare, genuine laugh when he sees your surprised expression. “I got lunch!”

Your eyes bulge as you watch him carrying one of the largest boars you’ve ever seen with a skip in his step like the animal weighed nothing. When he drops it unceremoniously to the ground, you hear the resounding thud and decide firmly that yes, Teyvat’s animals are ridiculous.

Childe cracks his knuckles and materializes his hydro knife to kneel at its side, and you just… You just watch.

Some deeply primitive part of you is hooting like a shameless dog as you watch him handle the meat with ease. Good man. Strong man. Can feed and protect.

“ – girlie, hey, you listening?”

You shake your head and blink at him. He starts laughing and gestures to the fireplace. “O-oh, right!” In a flash, you turn your back to him to hide the rising heat to your cheeks. “Um… That’s a lot of meat, you know.”

“Well, nobody ever complained to me about that, pretty bird.”

Nevermind. Big, strong man gone. “Why are you always cracking jokes? It’s like you never take things seriously.”

Childe pauses for a moment, stilling his hands. He never looks at you before he resumes skinning the boar, though you recognize the flash of a bygone memory nonetheless. “Nothing wrong in trying to get people to laugh occasionally in this shithole of a world. What else can you do? Tell your siblings that this place isn’t the fairytale they grew up believing in?”

You swallow and nod. Some time passes, and as you finish setting up the makeshift stove, it occurs to you that… There’s two of you. And one very big, very fat pig.

You’ll need a bigger fire.

“Hey, how do you plan on cooking this?”

“You’ll see.”

 ---

 An hour later and you’re in awe at how good the food is. The meat is practically melting off the bone as you eat the roasted pork, slight drool dribbling down.

Childe just stares as you lick your lips. “Did you learn this in Fatui boot camp or something?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice a pitch lower. “Closer to the ‘or something’ part though.”

Idle chatter starts between you two, soft banter and long talks about nothing. You ask about his past, he gives curt answers and you do the same, but there’s this silent understanding between you two about it. There’s little to say on the matter as neither party wants to remember. At least that’s something you have in common with Childe.

“So, along your travels,” he starts, wiping his mouth with a crimson handkerchief. “Did you come across any gods? Besides our resident funeral consultant, of course.”

“A few,” you reply. “Some also stepped down to join mortals too, but in those lands, they gave up their full divinity instead of just the title.”

“Why anybody would ever give up power willingly is beyond me.”

You laugh, though it sounds more vindicative than you intended. “Don’t you know? The gods envy mortals because their lives are fleeting and any moment can be their last. It’s all the more beautiful to them.”

Childe narrows his eyes. “Who said that? Seems to me the gods here don’t really care for us.”

You smile bitterly. “Yeah, I can see your point. The gods in Teyvat are different, but what about Zhongli? Don’t you trust him?”

“Ha, I trust him to pursue his own self-interests. If they align with mine, then great, there’s no problems between us. He’s reliable and stubborn. Shockingly, he has my honest loyalty, and I trust I can predict his next move.”

“Always the tactician.” You both chuckle at the thought. “I would’ve thought there was more than that.” You pray he doesn’t realize how you test the waters, and with the way he looks in the distance, you’re safe.

“You’re not wrong. I care about him. He drives me insane, but come hell or high water, he’ll be my friend to the bitter end.”

Friend. Your heart throbs again, though in deliverance or bewilderment for their strange relationship, you’re not sure.

“With your powers, were you ever seen as one?” Childe says, breaking your thoughts.

“A god? Sometimes, though only if people haven’t seen real divinity. We were also called demons. Unnatural. We keep to ourselves mostly and avoid too much trouble, but with our powers sealed, we don’t even have that going for us. We’re not really welcome among humans or divine, hah.” His eyes relax briefly, shifting to an indescribable emotion. There’s something in them, some light of understanding.

You hate it.

“Don’t act like you care,” you say, turning away and hugging yourself. Yeah, you know you’re being unfair, but you can’t handle Childe’s pity at the moment. He sighs as he tosses his leftovers over his shoulder and tries putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey – “

“Don’t.”

“I don’t care. Look at me,” he says, tone sharp and commanding you to listen. During easy exchanges, it became so easy to gloss over the fact that Childe is, indeed, a general of the Fatui.

He’s all but glaring down at you, matching your petulant stare. “What is with you? I’ve been trying to fix things between us, but I’m starting to feel like I’m the only one. This goes both ways, you know.”

“Us? There is no us, Childe. It’s just you. It’s always been about what you want,” you seethe. Stars, you sounded so much like a kid, but some sick part of you is enjoying this. All your words are underhanded and you both know it. “Did you even care? At any point, any at all, did you care?”

His blue eyes slowly widen as realization dawns on him. “Ah. You’re still mad about that. About me using you, huh?”

“What the f – Yes, I’m still mad! Congratulations, you’ve got a pair of eyes. Don’t you know that I – nevermind.”

“No, say it,” he says, placing both hands on each of your shoulders now and caging you in. His face leaves no room for argument as he says your real name. “Say it. Don’t back out now.”

“Stars, you stupid, selfish son of a – “

“Hey, don’t you bring my mother into this,” he says, though a lopsided grin works its way onto his face regardless.

“Very funny, Childe. I just… I kept it, you know? It’s no Mr. Cyclops, but it’s still mine,” you say, looking down. His eyes flick to the starconch dangling from your journal.

“You didn’t have to,” he murmurs, tightening his grip on your shoulders.

“Of course I did. I made a promise to you, and I have a feeling you’re the type to actually cut my pinkie off.”

“Ha. Who’s being funny now?”

You shake your head. “My question still stands: did you care? I’ve forgiven you – you know that – but I’m mad because… I need to know if our friendship was...”

When you look up again, he’s – oh holy – when did he get so close? His deep blue eyes are resolute and you’re holding your breath. Childe is close enough that you can practically feel the heat radiating off of him as his lips parts. “Honestly? I didn’t at the time.”

Oh. Of course not.

You close your eyes as you feel your heart plummet to your stomach. Great. Just fantastic. Nothing can get worse than this.

“But now…”

His fingers gently grab your chin and lift up as he tilts his own down at you. “I can’t remember that time without guilt. When I saw how Teucer showered you all with adoration, it just reminded me of what we had.”

“What we had? What was that? Friend? Enemy? Sparring partner?” You scoff and lean out of the space he made that threatened to suffocate you. “I don’t want to believe a word you’re saying, because even though I’ve been honest every step of the way – “ You pull his right hand off your left shoulder and lock a pinkie with it. “ – I can guarantee that you haven’t.”

Do you feel a sense of joy when you release his hand with a glare?

“You’re no better than the gods you hate.”

When he has the gall to look offended?

Yeah, you do, and know what? Fuck him.

Suddenly, your hand is harshly yanked up as he leans close again, locking a pinkie before you can escape. “You don’t want to believe me? Fine. But don’t pretend you wouldn’t do the same for your duty if push came to shove. At least this time I had the decency to tell you why I’m here, why I’m ‘using’ you again. You beat me to it though, or did you forget?”

Childe sneers, fury now raging in those watery depths. “I’m not mad, I’m happy that you’re as shrewd as you are strong. Yes, I didn’t care then. Yes, I care now, even if I don’t regret it. I want to leave that in the past because today, this moment, is all that matters. C’mon, eye for an eye.”

“What are you even talking about?” You’re seething now, matching his frustration. Seriously, he can’t spout this crap and expect you to suddenly understand. “I am not doing this with you, to you, whatever ‘this’ is. Despite being upset, you’re still my friend.”

“No, we weren’t just friends and you know it,” he growls. “Or enemies. So just give the word and get it over with, comrade. Fight me, use me, do something and get it out of your system.”

He’s… He’s crazy, he’s just insane, you have to get out of here. You swiftly stand and pull your hand away, staring down at him. “I said no, Childe. Not everything is a battle. I can’t believe you… You would think that. Think that I’m no better than the people who treated you like some pawn.”

You sigh and turn away, but your hand is yanked behind you again. May the stars give you patience.

When he turns you, he’s looking at you with a familiar glint as his lips curl. It’s the same expression he wore in the aftermath of Osial.

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to them. You aren’t one of those out-of-touch bastards. I just… I wasn’t sure what else to do to get you to believe me.”

Who would’ve thought a Harbinger could be so maudlin. Torpor replaced your irritation and quiet resignation flickered in your mind. Why you still bickering with him? It’s pointless.

You take the hand holding you and bring it up to the center of your chest.

He freezes and stares at his hand, breathes growing shallow and quick.

“This is going nowhere. Leave it in the past, right? There’s always more to argue over, ha.”

When you squeeze his hand, you smile at him, meeting his bloodthirsty eyes. “You’re right, Childe. Let’s get this out of our system.”

You don’t want to, you really, really don’t, but seeing the way his shoulders relax with barely contained relief shoves that regret aside. Childe was never the best with words – while his fellow Harbingers wove tale after tale with silver tongues, he simply collected others’ tongues with that sharpened silver.

As you both pace yourselves apart, you pull out your journal, long modified to be a weapon of sorts in this world. You know you are at a severe disadvantage as you were never great with other tools, so you had to find a way to either stay out of his range – difficult with his bow – or get close enough to his personal space to land a direct blow with energy gathered in your hands – difficult with his water shields.

Childe summons his hydro blades and begins twirling them, head bowed as he watches your every step. Slowly, you circle one another as both try to find weak points to exploit. His eyes are nothing short of predatory, and as his lips barely twitch into a snarl, you’re once again reminded of just who is in front of you.

Tartaglia, the Vanguard of the Harbingers, whose arrogant and ruthless madness could only be soothed on the battlefield. He’s not so much like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but a monster in wolf’s clothing.

On instinct, you immediately tilt your head as an arrow whistles past your ear, nicking the edge. You feel warmth trickle down and your ear stings something fierce as you start to dodge his incoming folly of arrows.

Is it too late to back out? Like, right now? You can handle the proverbial tail between your legs but you cannot handle –

You curse as water rises from the river to wrap around your ankle and shackles you when you drew too close. Cruel laughter bubbles to your left as you turn and see him charging, serrated blades out for the slaughter.

When he gets close enough to leap, nearly too close for comfort, you immediately summon a wall of stone in front of you. A soft thud echoes, so you form a fist and push the wall forward and away from you as the hydro chains break with Childe’s concentration shifting to his predicament.

Normally, you would be more prepared and calculating in your attacks, but the sheer ruthlessness of his onslaught took you by surprise.

Russet-colored hair juts out from the top as he leaps up and over, twirling in the air. With a clear opening, you reach out energetically to the smattering of small – yet sharp – stones around you to use as projectiles. He laughs as he slices each stone, but your goal of interrupting his trajectory is accomplished.

Childe lands a distance away as you sprint farther back, summoning small pillars of stone between you two as he immediately chases after. Though he’s chaotic, his movements are somewhat predictable; you summon one stone in a bluff to get him to move to his right to dodge, but immediately slam another stone to his ribs on his side from the direction he moved towards.

He grunts, but hardly flinches as you see him double his efforts in chasing you. Belatedly, you realize he’s been herding you towards the massive waterfall the entire time. Either you finish him here or he finishes you there with the elemental advantage.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re not as fast as Aether, this is why you stay on the backline, fuck –

Childe’s lance smashes the shoddy stones rising quicker in your panic to separate you two. Not your finest work, but it’s a bit hard to focus on their construction when you have a maniac sent from hell on your ass, thank you. When you see how he leaps from your most recent stone, utilizing the momentum in its rise to propel himself forward, you tuck tail and run.

Safe to say, two thoughts occur as he tackles you and his iron grip is wrapped around your body to restrict movement as you both tumble along the ground.

One, you’re absolutely torn between humiliation and feeling shameless as you realize your undergarments are soaked with his husky pants filling your ears. His head tucked against your own in the roll.

There’s definitely something wrong with you, you decide, since you were nothing short of terrified two seconds earlier.

Two, when your head slams against the ground and you open your bleary eyes, you realize how lovely the snapdragon flowers lining the riverbank are this time of year.

You hiss as you feel heavy thighs cage your arms to your side and look up. Childe is leering down at you and snarling as his right hand curls into a fist, purple lightning slowly dancing across it. His left hand glows blue as you recognize the sensation of the infamous riptide mark forming over your chest, eyes glazed over with concentration.

In a moment of paralyzing horror, you realize just how far from civilization you two are.

Ha, haha, good one Childe. He’s… He’s playing, right? This was just friendly brawling. Ha. Oh shit.

He’s not slowing down.

When his hand clamps on your shoulder to still your frantic movements, you whine – high and feeble – at the pain blooming from his grip. For a split second, he falters as his eyes regain clarity, hand loosening a fraction to no longer being unyielding. You take the opportune distraction to flick your hand and throw a stone to his chest.

It’s not much, not without the power of your book – now discarded somewhere – but it does the job as he is knocked to the side and off of you.

In the action, you scramble to keep with the flow and slam him on his back, perching on his chest as your hands glow with accumulating geo energy.

Seeing his soft pants, a sparkle in his eyes, and how blood trickles down his forehead, the shattering in your heart is deafening when you realize how young he looks. His laughter is wet and harsh as his arms are splayed.

“Do it,” he grunts. “End the fight, ‘cause I won’t stop.”

No. No, you’re not doing this.

“Aw, is little birdie too scared?”

You lower your hand and wrap it around his throat, and stars, is his grin growing?

“Come on, just do it – “

“Shut up,” you hiss, leaning forward. “Stop it Childe, I’m not punishing you.”

“What if I want you to?”

You freeze as your mouth parts in a silent gasp, his expression never faltering. When you jump back, you grind against something hard and insistent against your ass, and oh. Was this his plan all along…?

Childe’s hands fly to your hips and pull you down, and oh fuck, a moan fumbles from your lips before you harshly cut it off. Your eyes glance down to see his hooded eyes and he’s panting as he watches you. “Pretty bird is suddenly backing out now? So weak, you won’t even take your venge – “

His words are muffled as you lean forward and kiss him, but you yelp when you feel sharp teeth suddenly bite your bottom lip. Something angry twittering in you possesses you to reach into his hair and fist it, yanking his head up to meet your irritated gaze. When he moans again, loud and shameless and grinds against your core, you’re seized by the same fierce need.

“You’re sick,” you say as your tongue darts out to taste a hint of blood.

For some reason, those words still him as his eyebrows furrow slightly. “I know.”

Stars, you hate how he stares you down, daring you to do something about it. You hate how it feels like it was your fault, that crack in his shield as you see your own shocked eyes reflected in his ocean blues. They flicker between yours, and that something whispers in you again: for whatever reason, he wants to be punished.

Maybe that’s how he gets his sick kicks. Yeah. That’s it.

(You shove aside any lingering doubts.)

You pull him to you this time, kissing him as you simultaneously begin a slow, rhythmic roll of your hips against his throbbing bulge. When Childe’s mouth parts in a strangled moan, you take the opportunity to dive your tongue into his and hum in approval as he rubs his hands along your thighs.

As you part, a thin trail of saliva stained red with blood connecting you two, you lean back and smirk at his whine from the loss of contact. Instead, you lean back and arch your back to apply more pressure to his bulge. “You’re such a challenge sometimes,” you murmur, scanning his features.

Childe moans, ragged and hoarse, as his hands find purchase on your hips. “Please,” he replies desperately.

“When was the last time someone put you in your place?” you say as your hands slowly trail down to his chest and meticulously begin undoing each button. Each time your nails scrape his skin, the contact is minuscule but enough to hitch his breath.

“N-not since the Tsaritsa,” he whispers, keening as you dip your fingers beneath his jacket to open it fully, baring his pale chest. “The people in Liyue are too… Let’s call it traditional in bed, hm? A bit too tender.”

You both snicker (unknowingly at the same man), but his laughter is cut off as you lean down to kiss along each scar littering his chest. There is a smattering of slashes and burns, enough to paint a picture of a life hard-won and deserving of his name.

When you ghost your lips back up, you pause at a pale, crescent-shaped… Is that a bite mark? You raise your hand slow to that juncture between his neck and shoulder, and you feel blue eyes watching you intently. As you trace it, you murmur, “What’s this? Did a lover leave this? Doesn’t seem very becoming of a Liyue native.”

Childe releases a puff of air instead of a laugh and rolls his head back. “Let’s just say it’s a trophy for the one time I managed to get a stupidly sentimental man to realize I’m not fragile on my last night here. He even apologized for it.”

Huh. You choose not to comment on the strange memory, but instead, opt to kiss the scar lightly. Childe openly moans, breathes becoming shallower as you move down the expanse of his creamy abdomen from there.

Gloved hands fly to your head and grab. His shallow thrusts against your chest halt when you lift away from him, glowering at him to stop. Childe’s eyes narrow, but when he tries again, you lie your palm flat against his bulge and push down.

Childe cries out at the border between pain and pleasure, and good, that fucker needs to learn when to stop.

Oh, gods, when did you get a mean streak? Except, when you lay your eyes on the Fatui again, memories of each time he’s pushed your buttons surface, directly compromising your promise to Aether to be kind to the locals in Teyvat to expedite finding Lumine.

Yeah, Aether isn’t here right now. You can make a special exception.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” you grunt and you lean up again, choking back laughter when you see how his eyes widen at your abandonment. Ha. “Maybe I’ll go slower and, how is it called, ‘make love to you like the people in Liyue? Maybe I’ll stop pursuing you like this, where none else dared challenge the almighty Harbinger, huh?”

Admittedly, the lust in you skyrockets when you see how he tries putting on an intimidating façade again, yet the flush across his face and chest absolutely ruins it. Oh man, you can keep doing this all day.

Only… When the devil smirks at you, your heart begins hammering.

“Oh? Maybe you should,” he pants, and you pointedly look at his erection now forming a slight damp spot on his pants. “Tch, but don’t tell me you’re not curious. You’re too fucking nice all the time, you’d hate that slowness as much as I would.”

Irritation seers through you again as you suddenly – and perhaps unnecessarily roughly – grab his pants, purposefully dragging your nails along his skin as you begin to pull it down. “What makes you think I’d hate it?” you huff.

Childe aids in your struggle, shimmying his pants down and off as he kicks off his boots while you clamber on top of him again.

“Come on,” he sneers, snaking his right hand around your neck to pull you closer while his left makes begins to slide down your belly. When he leans closer, he pauses short of kissing you and stays like that. “Don’t you want a taste?”

“You – “

Fuck, you didn’t realize how he distracted you until one finger brushes your clit and slides along your folds. Fuck, fuck, you hate how he drinks in your quiet and strangled moans as it begins to slowly dip into you. When you feel something smooth and cold instead, it hits you that he never took off his gloves.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he coos and rolls his hips upwards to grind against your ass. You grit your teeth, though Childe takes this moment to kiss you again and suck on your bottom lip, massaging you all the while. It’s… It’s not enough, damn him.

"Give me a safeword," you rasp as you break apart. "Right now. So I know this isn't a trick up your sleeve."

He grunts and leans forward again to press his lips against your nose, though he pauses in his ministrations. "This isn't -"

"Childe."

"... Calla lily."

You nod and sigh, tilting your head to the side.

The hand formerly around your neck slides down to pull down your clothes, allowing more access as it pools around your thighs.

You pull away entirely – ah, there goes his fingers – and stand, beginning to strip. As he watches you, you see how his jaw clenches, impatient and yet thoroughly enjoying the impromptu strip dance.

When you’re bare, you begin to walk over and have to bite back a whimper at how Childe’s tongue darts along his lips as you approach. Hmm…

You pad over to his head and grab a fistful of his hair again as you kneel by his head, concentrating on how his face contorts with pleasure again.

“What makes you think you’re so special, huh?” you gruff at him as he grins up at you in that wicked, wicked way.

“Because I’m all the sins you never had the courage to commit,” he responds daringly.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Oh, stars forgive you if you (not so) accidentally strangle this man. You swing one leg over his head and pull it up as you lower yourself. At least he needs no further instruction as he immediately rests his hands on your thighs and tilts his head to lap at the wetness dribbling down.

Let it never be said that Childe didn’t know how to use his mouth, because fuck, the eagerness he begins devouring you out with is nothing short of a man approaching his last meal. You become hyper-aware of your wanton moans, how you grind your core further along his lips while his aching cock is behind you, devoid of all attention.

When his tongue dives deeper between your folds, truly fucking you with it, you slam a hand behind his head to prevent your fall. Fuck, you can’t fucking think –

Your thighs are trembling as the pleasure shoots through you, building with each rock of your hips. It’s slow and steady, but you feel yourself surfing the rising pleasure when you mentally short-circuit. At some point, he crept one hand under you and – without warning, the asshole – plunged two fingers deep as he turns his attention to your clit.

It’s pathetic how you mewl, it really is, and like a bloodhound, Childe senses your weakness. He doubles his efforts while humming against your clit, vibrating it with the motion, and fuck, you feel it coming, it’s, it’s –

You open your mouth in a silent scream as it shoots up, pulling you taut and your muscles stiffen. It’s like you’re a bow strung along and Childe is the man just using you like this.

Stars, he needs to stop, he needs to – stop it, it’s too much –

“Stop, Childe, fu-ah – “ When you frantically roll off of him, falling on your side, he merely turns and grins. It’s absolutely sinful how he slowly licks each finger that was knuckle-deep in you, never breaking contact.

You wish he’d say something because for once, he’s not actually talking. He just. He followed your initiative and was promptly shut up, drinking you in. You don’t know what to say to him, so you opt instead to reach over and grab his scarf, yanking him up.

He follows, nearly as eager as a pup, and crawls to you on all fours as you sit up. Childe blinks at you, the smile never wavering as his eyes wander to your chest rising and falling with soft pants. Something in you, some small and evil voice whispering on your shoulder tells you to ruin this man, this arrogant warrior still clad in his Harbinger jacket and gloves and mask –

“Your mask,” you gruff. Childe tilts his head (oh no, that was cute), but follows your command nonetheless.

When he hands you the item, you fidget slightly and fight back that creeping uncertainty. Fuck it, you’re the one punishing him, so why are you getting embarrassed?

In a desperate bid for confidence, you hum and refuse to look at him, pretending to inspect the mask as if just now seeing it. A shaky breath escapes him as he watches you, so you firmly pull on the scarf like it’s some leash. “You always get your way, don’t you?” you hum.

When silence meets you, you yank on the scarf again. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” comes the immediate reply. You smile softly and look at him, look at his wide eyes as you’re met face-to-face. Each of his arms has settled next to your sides as his legs hold himself over you.

You hazard a glance at his cock and smile at how it twitches in response, leaking driblets of pearlescent pre-cum and just throbbing red. Oh, he wants it so badly. “Beg for it,” you say, looking back into his eyes.

Childe narrows his own, gritting his teeth in a snarl. “Beg for it,” you repeat slowly, “or we stop here. Your choice.”

“Please,” he mumbles, and… Oh, oh is he shy? Pink begins to dust the tips of his ears as he dips his head.

“Please what?” you tease and he huffs.

“Please, let me… I want it, I want you.” Each word is punctuated and forced out like it took all of his willpower to hold himself back from taking you then and there.

Some quiet, dark part of you is slightly disappointed he didn’t.

Well, you’re merciful, and he did say please. You lean forward and tilt your own head, catching his lips in a kiss entirely too soft – and yet, Childe doesn’t complain, only sighing in relief as he moves his head with yours.

But this is still supposed to be a punishment, you remind yourself vehemently. That lustful side of you rears its head, screaming at you to stop whatever it is you’re planning because Childe is here, on his knees and begging to fuck you.

But this is still supposed to be a punishment. Damn it.

Childe seems to recognize the idea swirling in your eyes when he pulls back and he frowns. You smirk back and slide his mask into place, thoroughly relishing in how his breath hitches seeing his own face staring back at him.

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

He jerks his head back like he’s been slapped. “Oh, you’re kidding me, right? You just made me beg, you charlatan.”

“Exactly,” you chirp back. You push him back while retaining your hold on his scarf and run your hand down his abs, pausing at the naval above his aching cock. He moans when your nails dig in there and he spreads his legs wide to allow you to move closer. When you finally, finally grasp his cock with a firm squeeze, a strangled groan is wrenched from his chest from somewhere high and deep like he wasn’t expecting the noise either.

“I’m still mad at you, so this is all you get. Nothing more than this, not even spit.”

Gods, how badly do you want to weep and take it back, but you have a point to prove, damn it.

Childe opens his mouth to protest, but you pull on the scarf to effectively cut off his air, watching how his eyes haze over with pleasure when you do an experimental pump. Is this… Is this how you looked when you fought for dominance with Zhongli?

Oh, you really can keep doing this.

Slowly, you shift forward more until you’re pressed close enough to lean next to his head as you gather the pre-cum leaking in torrents to twist around the head of his cock. “Does the Harbinger like this?”

Childe releases another strangled moan and nudges his head against yours, bucking his hips in demand for you to just go faster. You don’t, you’re mad at him, but the insistence is cute. That infamous earring of his dangles in front of you, tantalizingly close, so you grab it with your teeth and pull sharply as the pressure from your hand increases.

Childe cries out in a mixture of shock and pleasure, hands flying to your back to pull you closer to him as you release it to begin whispering filth into his ears.

With each movement, each tug and twist and sin tickling him, you watch as he slowly becomes unraveled and pulled from the seams. The contrast between you two, how you watch with startling clarity as Childe loses his sanity in chasing after that edge, serves only to thrill you. Your core starts to throb again, practically weeping with your own slick as you fight back the instinct to mount and ride him to hell here and now.

As his thighs tense and his breathing drawing quicker, you pause abruptly to stop him from cumming and – oh shit – he yanks your hair back as he growls in your ear, “Don’t you dare – “

Wish granted. You laugh openly and release his scarf to cup his jaw, leaning forward enough that he can catch the whites of your eyes through the slits in the mask. “Then don’t look away.”

And, blessedly, you resume your ministrations with a sudden increase in speed that has Childe panting so beautifully, so raggedly as he whines at the sight of his own mask staring him down. His hips rock into your hand needily, clinging to your back like his life depended on it.

“Ah, f-uck – “ Childe’s words are cut off as he flushes red and you feel warmth spill over your hand. You never pause as you continue milking his cock, jerking it well past the point of pleasure and deep into oversensitive pain. His blue eyes are squeezed shut as a string of Snezhnayan curses tumble from his lips, clinging to what shreds of euphoria are left before you slowly stop.

His chest is heaving, each exhale hoarse and dry as he buries his head against your neck.

Huh, what does a Harbinger taste like…?

As you idly bring your hand up to lap at the cum, you smirk behind your mask when you hear Childe’s breath hitch and he begins mumbling something indistinctly, watching you all the while.

When he’s this close, you can nearly count each freckle dotting his cheeks and nose, and… And you can almost draw constellations between them.

After a moment, he leans back to stare at you before pulling off the mask. When you both see each other again, a lazy smile tugs at his lips before he looking you up and down, then towards the scene around you.

“… Well, this is unsanitary.”

What – what the fuck? You bark out a loud laugh and Childe joins you, though his sounds huskier still as he recovers. “That was a little mean of you to keep going,” he says, pouting when you snort.

“You wanted it.”

“I wanted to fuck you,” he grumbles. You shrug and try to stand, though admittedly you’re no better than a colt with how your legs shake.

Eventually, you manage to waddle your way to the river and take slow steps into the freezing waters. Fish dart between your legs, barely brushing by with slick flutters, and you sigh as you force your muscles to relax.

Some time passes before you hear movement and splashes behind you, though you don’t turn to meet him. If Childe is upset with you, he can deal with that himself, you’re too busy trying to find some peace.

You just need a hard reset. Just once, you need to get one merciful moment alone.

Still, that wish remains ungranted as strong muscles wrap around your front and you jolt at the sudden contact, but more so when you feel Childe rest his head against the back of yours. Neither of you move, opting to instead sway lightly with the currents drifting by. Each wrist is wrapped in a leather brace with a Vision inlaid in the right while the Delusion is in his left.

When you glance down at the water, you suck in a breath upon realizing he’s been staring at you through the reflection the whole time. Soft aquatic plants dance at the corners of your feet, brushing ever so slightly with each tug.

It’s nice, but something about the stillness sparks uneasiness in you. But… It’s not the kind you felt staring down Childe’s lifeless eyes seconds before he struck, no, this is different. This feeling left you feeling both heavy and light, clear and foggy like you were alone with the dawn breaking and somehow that fact makes it all the sadder.

You… You want this to last, you realize. Stupid. You’ve gotten yourself stupidly attached already, two for zero with these men in your life.

He sighs as one hand reaches up, tracing idly over your chest again. “Do you ever feel like it’s some game,” he begins delicately like each breath is an affront to the world around you.

“What do you mean?”

“These gods, these… Not-humans, I guess. The one that took Aether’s sister, the ones that laughed at you for not being good enough in your travels, the adepti that thought Liyue too fragile… Do you ever think it’s a game to them? Like we’re just puppets on strings?”

He whispers these words, writing them like clandestine letters, ones that will surely get him executed should the gods ever see yet he writes them all the same.

“Like the fabled strings of fate?” you reply, and his lips twist in a wry laugh. “I don’t know if it’s fair for me to answer, since I’m not…”

Human.

Childe hums, understanding the tacit sentiment. “Doesn’t matter, you were never welcome among the divine anyway, right?”

“As if the humans would welcome us instead.”

“I would. I already have.”

Without skipping a beat, Childe continues hastily, once again obscuring that something in his voice. “Do you think they understand us? Actually care about their people?”

You shake your head, a barely-there motion, and should any soul look upon you two now, surely they would never see how you squeeze his hands. “I don’t think gods understand true strength.”

You don’t know why, but those two words, that single combination seems to still Childe completely as he listens, utterly rapt with another memory flickering across his expression. At least, that’s what you think, judging from the reflections.

“Gods may shape the world and play with the pieces, but mortals are the ones living in it. I don’t think they remember that humans are not – “

“Things.”

Another beat of silence passes before Childe breaks it again. “They think we don’t understand anything just because we haven’t had an eternity behind us, ha. I don’t blame them, I think I’d take the opportunity to be immortal too.”

You frown and turn in his arms, coming face-to-face with him. “Why?”

“So I can finally make right everything that’s wrong,” he mumbles, placing his hand on your chest again. When you look down, you see how water tickles and caresses your skin – almost lovingly if you were so bold, but you’re not – as it forms a vague riptide mark. You feel cool hydro energy seep into your skin before disappearing entirely, though you suppose more elemental energy could always trigger its appearance once more.

Childe sighs again, massaging the spot from the mark before roving hands move to your shoulders, rubbing along them. When he looks at you again, your heart stutters at the glittering image of wide-eyed wonder and determination staring back at you – the sight of it renders you mute. A cheeky grin pulls his lips. “And more time means more journeys, right? When my plans are complete, I can finally put this all to rest and go adventuring.”

(You vow then to never tell him that Teucer long spilled these secrets to your motley group.)

And then. And then he smiles, though it’s all teeth and wicked intentions, and then you feel your heart race with sudden fear as the sweet moment left as soon as it arrived.

“You know comrade,” he begins charmingly (oh no), “I did warn you about one thing.”

“Y-yeah?” Oh no, you didn’t mean for that to come out as quiet and breathy as it did. Childe chuckles as he slides one hand to cup the back of your neck.

“That I won’t stop.”

That’s all the warning you get before your world is turned askew, everything blurring together in motions of blue and rippling colors.

This is… He’s taking you somewhere, you realize belatedly, this is how he escaped the Golden House. When his face materializes before yours, peering out of the water as the element obeys its master’s commands, he holds one finger up to his lips in a signal to keep holding your breath.

So you do. You hold as long as you can, eyes darting as the world passes by and you’re struck by the kaleidoscope of light as it ripples along the outside of this shell.

When Childe leans forward, slotting his lips against yours, you swear then that he meant to steal your breath.

Hard rock slams into your back suddenly and you break the kiss, gasping for air and flopping your hands about you for purchase. Air, hallelujah, there’s air –

You grumble at him, sulking at the unexpected journey as his drenched hair trickled droplets onto you. Childe rears his head back, roaring with laughter at your cross attitude, but you can’t hear it. As a matter of fact, you can’t hear anything really.

Wait, did he just take you behind the waterfall?

Amusement dances across his face as he watches you drink in the sights around, of how you two are in a small enclave behind the waterfall roaring overhead. It’s not much, probably two lengths of Childe’s body long and wide with temperatures freezing you to the bone.

So, why did he bring you back here –

You keen when he suddenly dips his head to kiss along your sternum, one thigh nudging your legs apart. His hot breath fans across your skin, licking a long stripe up your neck to your ears as he brings one hand up to squeeze one breast.

“Sweet girl is always so far away,” he whispers huskily. “Will you finally let me hold you?”

“Childe,” you huff, your soft breath cutting off into a moan as he pinches one nipple. His teeth graze your jaw, kissing along it and moving steadily towards your mouth. “All this time, you never needed to ask. You already had me.”

He groans, capturing your lips again with the barely constrained ferocity of a starved man as the hand fondling your chest moves down. Stars, you’re already so slick with anticipation; Childe moans appreciatively as one finger slides easily in, then two, then three.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “Fuck, fuck, you’re so hot, sweet little thing.”

If you were thinking straight, you’d realize that Childe is whispering something about fair trade and equal punishment, is sinking his fingers knuckle-deep into you and ruthlessly finding that sweet spot in you with a single goal in mind. You encourage him further, opening your mouth and welcoming his tongue as he explores your mouth with near-invasive energy.

If you were thinking straight, you’d realize how his cock is already at attention and ready to spear you, how it waits patiently for you to cum first.

Oh, but you’re not thinking straight. You wail as his fingers press harder, palm now rubbing your clit while he nips along your jugular and scatters your thoughts. Childe shifts so he no longer needs his other hand to hold himself over you, and instead places it over your throat as he pulls back to stare into your eyes.

The devil grins at you. “Don’t look away now.”

“Ah – oh, Childe – “ His hands squeeze, tentative at first, then with more conviction – and a terrifyingly practiced technique – around your neck, cutting off just enough air to leave the images blurring around you. Fuck, fuck, you’re clinging to consciousness, holding onto that pleasurable spike for dear life and –

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he pants, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours and you wail. It comes out softer and quiet, like a lamb being laid bare before a wolf, and you’re shivering with the fuzzy pleasure blanketing your body. Calloused fingers work you over as he grins, murmuring praises as you come undone from his unrelenting pace.

Your orgasm is nothing fierce like when he ate you out, but as air steadily becomes harder, the pleasure refuses to fizzle out like the fireworks you felt earlier. No, it only builds and builds and builds like it refuses to let you go, dragging you through this sex-addled haze whether you like it or not.

“Stay with me now,” Childe grunts, dark hunger swirling in his eyes. “Come on, don’t black out on me now, that’s too easy. Do I have to be mean?”

What the fuck is he talking about –

You cry out in sheer panic and blinding euphoria as you feel light sparks dance along your clit. He’s using his fucking electro element, all fine control and just playing you like a fiddle while you writhe underneath him. You can’t take it anymore, this is too much to all once and impossible to describe, you can’t –

Childe blessedly releases his grip and you gasp in lungfuls of air for the second time in a short window; though his fingers slow, they don’t stop. He coos at your writhing underneath him, moaning with you as you ride out a second orgasm from his electro currents.

You’re biting your lip to stop from whining even more, but that must’ve irked Childe because he moves down to kiss you again, pulling your bottom lip away with his teeth. As the stimulation slowly pushes into pain, you hiss and swing your left leg up to kick him away.

Of course the fucker caught your foot and exploited the momentum to wrap it around his right shoulder, of course. “Pl-ease,” you cry out as tears prick at the corners of your eyes, the pleasure quickly becoming too much again. “Please!”

“Mm, you’ll have to beg for it,” he replies, too casually for a man whose fingers are working up a storm to bring you to a quick and merciless orgasm again. Your hands fly down to his wrist in a pathetic attempt to slow him, but he curls his lips in a challenge and speeds up, shifting closer to you to brush his cock along your cheeks.

Fuck, fuck – You cum again, though somewhere in you tells you that you never actually stopped. A last-ditch idea desperately hits you. “F-Fuck me!” you cry out, voice pitching a tune that’s dangerously needy. “Please!”

Childe laughs again, all cruelty and thrilled at your begging, but you can’t find it in you to give a damn, you just need him to stop fucking you with his fingers. You need a break.

But the Harbinger is a merciless god.

He hums as his fingers slowly, slowly withdraw and he makes a show of sucking each one clean before he takes his cock to line up with your entrance. As he does this, he tilts his head and looks at you again, pretending like he doesn’t see you plead for – for what, exactly? For more? For less?

And in a single thrust, he enters entirely into you. Two voices bounce off the walls, pitches varying but both as broken, and Childe immediately begins a harsh pace.

“Please,” you whine and he tilts his head again, grinning through each harsh thrust. He’s rubbing one hand along the thigh draped over his shoulder while the other holds your hips in a bruising grip.

“Please? You’re such a greedy thing, look at that, sucking up my cock like that.” Each word is punctuated with another harsh thrust, each word is met with your loud cries – and when he angles his hips enough that you can see the outline of it pushing against your naval with you on your back, you cum again.

The Fatui starts speaking in Sneznayhan again as you clamp down around him, squeezing and milking his cock for all you’re worth, but gods you can hardly care right now. Your back is surely going to be scraped raw with how you’re being dragged across the floor, but you fucking love it, love how pain and pleasure mix in some addicting cocktail you’re absolutely drunk on.

You make a long, anguished whine as Childe begins kissing along your leg and peppers your skin with nips to pierce that pleasurable fog. His words sound slurred, you’re willing to bet your life that he’s trying to call your name, but you’re not sure if it’s him or your perception that’s screwed up on this side of the river.

And then he’s laughing. The bastard’s laughing at your blissful misery.

Oh. Oh no no, no you’re not about to be humbled by some Harbinger –

“T-tartaglia!” you keen suddenly when a particularly fierce thrust hits you.

You both freeze.

Oh no. Oh shit. Cold panic rushes through you at that, at how you just admitted defeat by calling him out – and when he purrs your real name, low and husky and thoroughly vindicated, he knows it too.

“Pretty thing wants to wear my mask, but you forgot who’s fucking you like you wanted,” he snarls.

After he hoists your other leg over his shoulders, he presses his body into yours and folds you in half, the new angle devastating for your pleasure as he somehow reaches deeper. His hips start again, mercilessly hitting that spot deep in as his hands cage you in by your head. Childe leans in and nudges your head aside, brushing his nose along your cheeks. "What's the safeword?"

"C-calla lily," you murmur and he nods, turning to stare you down again.

When you try to look away, close your eyes, do something, one hand brutally squeezes your jaw to open your eyes again.

And it works. You gasp as he forces you to attention, forces you to address him as those dangerously blue eyes threaten to swallow you whole in the treacherous deep ocean. “Baby, look – hah, shit – look at me. Y-you want Tartaglia, huh? Isn’t that right?”

Your throat is betraying your mind, whining and begging and blabbering something in response as the grinding pleasure continues to drown you.

It hurts so fucking good as euphoria tears you apart, rips your insides as you start openly sobbing from the pleasure he’s dragging out, and the fucker has the audacity to shoot forward and press an open kiss to your tear-streaked cheeks. Chi- Tartaglia lets you claw at his back – hell, he encourages it with how he groans – and he torturously continues his pace.

You’re not sure if you have the energy to continue, so you smack at his back weakly as you mumble against his lips. Your cunt is squeezing and spasming around him in a vice grip, but he continues fucking you through it. “P-please, please c-cum, please, I don’t know if I can keep going,” you beg desperately.

“N-no,” he grunts and your heart sinks. “Fuck, pretty birdie is letting me finallyy – hah – fuck her, I warned you, I won’t st-hhop.”

“It’s too much,” you hiccup through the overstimulation and scream – your throat hurts with the force of it – as you feel electricity twist your muscles, clenching around his cock as white-hot plasma seems to seer you from the inside out. He moans in response, a low and gruff noise.

“Then suffer.”

And he keeps going.

 ---

 You never notice how he traces along a barely-there geo sigil with the smallest, briefest Cor Lapis glow beneath your navel. You never notice how it throbs in time with his thrusts, with each exertion of his elemental visions as if protective over your body in a lingering memory of whatever divine beast spurred its awakening.

You never notice how he grins.

 ---

 The Harbinger is a cruel and merciless god.

 ---

 He ruins you, thoroughly devastates you with a meticulous precision befitting the Vanguard of the Harbingers. You’ve been manhandled and manipulated into a myriad of positions until pebbles and scrapes litter both of your bodies. True to his word, you suffer through each orgasm he tears from you.

And fuck, do you love it.

Your back is to the wall as your hands are interlocked with his own by your head, hips rapidly thrusting you up and down against it as you wrap your legs around him for purchase while he nips your neck like a rabid dog.

Stars, you can’t concentrate, your eyes keep losing focus – and each time Tartaglia notices, he bites or thrusts or squeezes with that iron grip, electricity lacing each action jolting you to the present. He refuses to let you sink, refuses to let you black out as you’re dragged through hell and back by the devil himself.

“Please,” you weep as he rests his forehead against yours, dutifully watching how your chest bounces with the movement and how his cock is thoroughly drenched with your juices. The ease with which he slides in and out of you is downright criminal.

“T-tartaglia, please,” you whimper and his blues meet yours again. “Tartaglia… I want…”

A single eyebrow arches as he presses his body impossibly closers, now chest-to-chest as he cages you in and looms over you. “I want you,” you gasp between thrusts, “all of you, please. I – ah – I trust you, please.”

Tartaglia freezes for a split-second before groaning, raw and thunderous and wild as the storms that herald his coming, and when he kisses you, you feel wetness dribble down both of your cheeks.

In your haze, you weren’t aware you were crying again from it all, but a lot of things snuck past your attention.

You don’t know what happens after that, but you know it’s hot and wet as his body flexes over yours. Somewhere in your consciousness, you hear a voice cry out Tartaglia’s name, utterly shredded to ribbons from how it was abused.

Was that your voice?

His cock is throbbing in you as you feel him empty load after load of cum, more words in a foreign language wrapping you in warmth his tone lightens, his eyes grow soft and his lips curl up. It’s all you can do to squeeze your wet cunt around him, tightening around him to milk more out of him until Tartaglia is gasping desperately in time with the stutter of his hips.

Eventually, he slumps over you, draping his muscled body over yours with sheer exhaustion and sweat glistening in a thin sheen over his skin.

He whimpers your name, almost going unheard and the noise is halting as if he didn’t expect to say it either. Frankly, you’re too tired to unpack all the layers woven into that right now. So you don’t. Instead, you squeeze his hands as you start to feebly sing softly in your native tongue.

Childe freezes instantly as he sucks in a sharp breath. “What is that?”

“Hm? My people’s language?” you respond and he nods dumbly. “Sorry, probably sounds bad.”

“No,” he mumbles, shaking his head enough that his auburn locks bounce lightly. “Just familiar.”

Huh? Whatever. He’s probably too blissed out to make sense right now.

You both stay like that for a time in a slow-going bid to steady your breathing. You… You never honestly expected this to happen when he invited himself along your commission. Not that you’re complaining, of course, it’s just… It’s not what you expected.

Some lust-addled part of your brain, utterly fucked out and blissful, is already planning another ‘excursion’ into these deep woods.

And then you start to giggle at the gooey mess pooling between both of you. Childe huffs against you and you feel his smile against your cheek. “What’re you laughing at, pretty bird?” he slurs out.

“Oh, just. This is just unsanitary.”

Childe just grunts, too tired to join your laughter, but that’s okay. Your bubbling joy is enough for the two of you in this little enclave behind the waterfall.

 ---

 Hours have passed, and somehow – through sheer and utter spite – you both manage to drag yourselves back to Liyue Harbor despite the protesting aches from your muscles. Nerve endings are set alight with each step, but judging from how Childe winces, he feels it too. Night has long fallen and you remind yourself to apologize to Aether and Paimon, since you said you’d be back by dinner at the latest.

Do you regret it though? Nope.

Eventually, you stumble (literally in your case, tripping over a rock in your lethargy) across Zhongli scrutinizing various wares on display with a careful eye.

Zhongli’s smile is brilliant and warm as he spies you two, immediately weaving his way through the crowd to make his way over. In a way, the movement is serpentine as he manipulates each person away. It’s fitting, really.

“I expected you two to be back much earlier,” Zhongli rumbles, though there’s no disappointment. He looks pleased to simply see you both safe and sound.

“Ah, it was a little far,” Childe chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck. “Y’know how it is.”

“Where are the others?” you interject, too tired to maintain any sane conversation. Or sanity in general. You need a bed and you need it now.

The former Archon tilts his head as he peruses through his memories. “I believe they moved to Wangshu Inn. They said that since you both took too long, we are to meet again at midday tomorrow near Jueyun Karst.”

You nod weakly and tune out their conversation, trying to muster what little energy you have left to begin the trek to get outside the city.

“I saw the most interesting thing,” you hear Childe say conversationally. The tone feels off, though. “Did you know geo sigils can stay on skin? I got a most intimate view of it! Even left a little hydro mark of my own,” Childe’s teasing voice continues with something else lacing the undercurrents of it.

Your heart sinks and you slowly turn around, thankful that in your brief glance at their faces, Zhongli was all-too distracted with Childe’s words to see you. However, when one eyebrow raises, you immediately duck your head.

Fuck. What the fuck. You’ll sprint if you have to, but for now, walking away is okay too.

“Oh?” You hear a curiously deep rumble from behind you as you slowly make your way out, but you can’t place the tone. Zhongli is as stoic as ever and you can’t get a read on him from his voice alone, oh no. “Is that so.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement, a fact, an observation, and it’s delivered so flatly you want to cry from sheer mortification and horror as your mind shifts into maximum overdrive with panic at all the worst possibilities.

What’s he thinking? What does either of them think of you now? Did you cross some unspoken line?

Well then! Now’s as good a time as any to flee.

“See you at Jueyun Karst!” you throw over your shoulder as you wave, but the words are broken since you’re shaking like a leaf in a fierce wind.

As you make your exit, you feel two pairs of eyes burning into your back as neither man says anything.

Haha! Terrific! That’ll surely help you sleep tonight!

 -

notes: 

i love how the 1.5 leaked cutscene says there’s a liyue saying that goes something like “waiting for rain to fall on earth once again” like hello?? metaphors??

[spade-riddles]

"Adjusting Expectations" Post

This submission received a lot of responses and 120 notes, so I thought I would compile the comments here.

Anonymous said:

Adjusting expectations anon was so good. If their timetables are right and we do just need to be patient a little longer, can Kaylor please send us a sign? I guess it would be too loud to slip "adjusting expectations" into social media posts, but maybe they could both do something with playing cards? To show they are card sharks right now but they'll find their way home eventually? That would reassure people. And it would fly under the radar.

casuallycruel131313 said:

I agree with a lot of this but I think the main issue right now is that moral and ethical lines have been crossed and there's no coming back from that. In these post-Trumpian insurrectionist times it's unfathomable that they could continue the Kushner narrative I no longer care if or when they come out, I enjoy the music and I'm happy to observe from a distance because I'm interested from a PR/marketing point of view but my opinion of T &K as people has changed irrevocably and I don't see how they can clean the tarnish off.

@theprologues said:

Agree with most of not all if this but I would like to say as a Kaylor the toe Grammy stunt didn’t phase me. I was not crushed by that by any means. I just shrugged and honestly expected it. It was the attributing Betty and exile to him during the LPSS in November that bummed me out and really made me go...really?

rockcrow20 said:

Have to say I also agree with most of this.

I no longer have any expectations on anything changing any time soon and have not been surprised by the recent events its to be expected after everything over the years really

Nothing has really changed (bearding narrative wise) since I fell down the rabbit hole in 2017 (except that great night in nashville 2018 rep)

Honestly I can't say I am as invested anymore about them ever coming out as I was.

I think the wb/Joe thing was the last moment for me and the continual kushner connection just troubles me like many others.

I mean my kaylor motto for awhile now has been hope for the best but expect disappointment.

Low expectations = limited feelings of disappointment.

original-cypher said:

@rockcrow20 the WB was a breaking point for so many. You are absolutely right. There are just so ma'y contradictions that feel like absolute whiplash. (I know I seem to have been the only one experiencing that with Gorgeous but... that was a big one for me, too) But like. You go on a whole PR campaign about speaking up and standing up for yourself. You say you're capable and tired of men trying to take ownership of your success and profit off of your name. And you credit you literal damn work to a bloke? Bitch, 'consistency'? Look it up. It grossed me out. It would have felt iffy if I believed they were real. But since I wasn't born yesterday it just sent me the message "this is how far I'm willing to sacrifice my principles to not be queer".

rockcrow20 said:

@original-cypher exactly why it bothered me and I know alot us so much. Such mixed messaging of being a strong fighting for your rights female and then oh hey let me attribute some of my best work to my pr boyfriend and the pr pics where she is walking behind all the time like 🙄 The Betty thing that was big one for me too!

rainbowdaisy13 said:

This write up and the comments are spot on. I don’t have much to add other than like @original-cypher said, Miss Americana is tainted for me now and seems like at the very least, it was released too soon in the plan. I get we think they have had to pivot but man, that doc, and including her literally saying “gay rights make me me” at the end was such a false flag. To see her wax poetic about not taking shit from men anymore and then see her do the same old hetero weak woman song and dance routine with the WB shit for albums that are of her genius mind has been so disappointing. I still believe Kaylor is real and I hope they get a chance to show the world that. Karlie posting that cardigan pic in the woods before the folklore release cemented for me they are still together. Adding a baby makes me feel all kind of weird ethical things but I hope I live long enough to see it play out and wear my I Told You So shirt 😁

@kellykaylor said:

agree with your post... I dont care about toe stunts but what really pissed me of was hetwashing betty 🤮! beautiful post tho anon!!

roameroo said:

Totally agree with these all comments especially the strong messaging of MA only to turn around & pull that WB = my "bf" crap. I was disheartened by her mentioning him at the Grammy's only bc he's getting credit for sh*t he doesn't/didn't do. That is what irks me the most about this, giving him credit for her life's work.

always-the-last-word said:

Can I throw my pennies in the pool ?? Taylor will put out the big three first Fearless, RED then 1989 that should bring us to about August. This is where the excitement should begin. If Taylor preps and waits for National Coming Out day it's a no lose for her. Lover her money making machine will go through the roof !! If things go bad or good in the public eye she'll have REPUTATION Taylor's Version ready to release. It will be epic and she'll own it and be FREE.

@karlie-what-you-want said:

always-the-last-word I like this take a lot! I try not to be too optimistic but if she wanted to come out sooner rather than later, I think this plan would satisfy both business and PR needs (at least on Taylor’s end). Remains to be seen how Tay will help Karlie dig her way out of the mess they made together regarding the K*shners.

always-the-last-word said:

Always remember that Taylor has a PLAN. Some of her plans are year's old (easter eggs). Taylor's one and only LOVE is her music, everything else comes second. If KK wants to change and be with her full time she'll make moves around the same time frame. That's if she chooses to. In any event Tay will be open and own all her music. I've seen this film before and WE might not like the ending.

chosetherose said:

I’ve been going back and forth for a day trying to figure out what I wanted to say when I reblogged this post. I’m tired. I’m frustrated. I understand I’m owed nothing by Taylor or Karlie. I understand that circumstances out of their control have caused the girls to pivot over and over again.

But, the root of my frustration in the past months stems not from me battling with the trivial (e.g. pap walks, etc.) but with my personal principles. I fiercely believe credit should be given where it is earned and I uphold this in my career regularly. To see Taylor crediting Toe with her art was deeply disappointing. Watch the 1989 and folklore acceptance speeches back to back and tell me it doesn’t upset you. I believe the K******s have blood on their hands and that their actions during the pandemic have killed people. To see Karlie still associating with one of them disgusts me.

I can’t help but think back in frustration - Would you really fall from grace to touch her face? (And in the brilliant words of @9w1ft) But would you die for her in public? I go back and forth feeling like questions like this aren’t fair at all and thinking they are sort of valid. At this point, it sort of feels like Taylor would only fall from grace for her lover if all the stars and facets of her life aligned perfectly. But perfection like this does not happen. Such is life. So why am I here?

I do question why Spade left certain messages in their final days. I am still holding hope a fervent revolution exonerates everyone. I so desperately want Taylor to regain control of her masters or re-records. Maybe this is the plan they thought was best with multiple goals in mind (re-records, having a family, coming out of the closet one day etc). I’m trying to remain patient because Spade told us to trust her endless yearning. But WOW it is asking a lot of us at this point.

Anonymous said:

Despite being a pragmatist kaylor and oftentimes getting into arguments with fellow optimistic kaylors (owner of this blog included) I think it's quite unfair -at this point- to say to the optimists who have patiently sat through the worst kind of stunts with the most terrible kind of people (yes I'm talking about the Kushner's friend group too) that they should have seen it coming. Besides, if it weren't for the optimists we the cynicals would have burned this fandom down by now.

Anonymous said:

Even if we ignore that an insurrection happened partially because of the family karlie's still working for and getting paid from, she literally said before the pregnancy debacle unfolded that j*sh was her last client while talking about cutting hair and doing a cutting gesture. How should we have interpreted that? 😤That a year later she would be more stuck with the Kushners than ever? We don't wake up on day and decide to have unrealistic expectations. She feeds into them. 😠

Anonymous said:

I have no expectation of Taylor coming out anymore. Zero. None. I have no expectation of her dropping Toe or even of Kaylor publicly reuniting. It doesn't even matter that much anymore. But I - do - expect 1 thing. Karlie to drop and completely dissociate herself from the Kushners and this has nothing to do with kaylor. It was everything to do with me being unable to support a person who willfully assists (now using her baby too) and receives money from a family that has made so many suffer.

Anonymous said:

A quick word from an ex-kaylor (who will never become an anti). A year ago, when the Trumps were still in power and untouchable and there was no baby, I was excusing and turning a blind eye to many things Karlie did for the K*shners. Even that dinner in September. I had also made peace with the truth never being revealed. But a year later the Trumps are gone, Karlie is still on full stunting mode now with a baby in the mix, a baby that is already being used by the Kushners, and I've really run out of excuses. Now the only thing that could possibly keep me on board is if I knew there was a good chance that the full truth would come out, so that Karlie's inexplicable and honestly borderline immoral actions could eventually make sense. But as your sub said, this is an unrealistic expectation, thus I became an ex-kaylor and I'm not planning to come back even when they reunite. 😕

Anonymous said:

What baffles me is that Taylor has explicitly expressed her regret about not giving her lover the credit she deserves and her doubt whether fame is worth hiding her true love: "when I walked up to the podium, I think I forgot to say your name", "what's a lifetime of achievement, if I pushed you to the edge". But yet again she didn't do anything to change this. I didn't expect her to acknowledge Karlie, but a nod or at least not falsely crediting her beard would be a good start.

Anonymous said:

1🙁 Let me chime in re: "expectations". I'm one of the kaylors who ever since the pregnancy reveal was trying to tell everyone there's NO way she was gonna dump him soon after birth let alone before that. It would bring too much unnecessary attention and Jerk would have never agreed to something that would make him look like a bad guy/husband. For the exact same reasons, I was also saying there's no way he wasn't going to post about the baby. All the above against the popular opinion back then.

2🙁 So I agree that the day of the birth post was known to T, not the timing though. Simply bc Kushner-leaning outlets made sure to note that detail. If they wanted it to go unnoticed, why draw attention to it? That being said, kaylors would have been more patient with this mess, if Karlie hadn't gone overboard with her freedom "smoke signals" last summer and Tay's "insiders" hadn't been insinuating that the end is VERY near. Both of them SHOULD have known by then how we would react to these.

3🙁 So it's natural that everyone feels played and has no patience for any more bullshit. Another sore point is how Jerk AND the Kushner-Trump klan monopolize the baby news. This isn't just to make it realistic, it's an abuse of Kaylor's baby's name to garner good pr for the worst family in America, with Karlie's blessing. In order for her marriage and split to appear realistic she's putting a LIFETIME burden on her child's back. Unless you believe she's eventually gonna say Jerk isn't the dad.

4🙁 So "we’re in a position we should realistically have been able to see coming". But we did see it coming, that why some made these extreme scenarios, bc this is the worst possible outcome. "Good people try to make it work, even in bad relationships." Ultimately this isn't just a "bad rs". It's a horrific association that should have been resolved ages ago, not one to bring your child into, doom it to suffer a similar fate, and expect people to sit idly and watch. That's what frustrates most.

[daydreaming-away-reality]

Hearing Your Voice

Zen x Reader | ☁️ | 2.6k | Soulmate AU

You tapped your fingers on the desk, doing your best to stay quiet while in the study room. With the beautiful melody playing within your head, it was hard. Especially when the singer sounded like he had the voice of an angel. 

Doing your best in trying to study, you couldn’t help but breaking into a smile and pause when you recognized a tune of the song.

I heard him sing this yesterday too. 

Trying to study was hard. Not because the content was hard to grasp - no, you could have all the material down with a bit of reading and some flashcards - it was hard because you were always conflicted. Part of your brain would tell you school is important and as a university student, you had to work hard towards your future. The other part of your brain however, would be loudly screaming, hey, that song sounded familiar! We’ve heard that somewhere before, but where?! 

Most of the time, you were fine. You would just study with the music playing in your head. There were moments when your heart would chime in and remind you, we’re still looking for our soulmate, (Y/N). Then studying was a challenge.

The song you could hear in your head? That was your soulmate singing. Even though you grew up hearing the voice of your soulmate singing, you were never able to find them. 

Every few weeks, or months, your soulmate would have a couple of songs that he would be constantly singing. Kind of like the most popular songs of the season caught on loop by the radio stations. However, whatever songs your soulmate was singing was never these pop songs. 

You were a lucky one, you knew that much. 

You had friends who would be complaining about their soulmate’s choice in singing because it would be the overplayed pop songs. There was only so much one could take of the same song all the time after all.

On the other hand, shower singing stories were hilarious to hear about.

Moving back to your story...

Personally, you didn’t sing too much. Not unless you were certain no one but your soulmate was listening. Your soulmate probably heard you humming most of the time though. It was hard not to hum along to his beautiful singing.

Staring at your study notes, you shook your head.

This was going no where.

Just as you closed your notebook, someone tapped on your shoulder. Startling, you turned around and pulled down your - not plugged in - headphones.

“I had a feeling you weren’t studying,” Yoosung said, looking at you with an amused smile. “Listening to your soulmate again?”

You gave him your oops, you caught me smile. “Yeah. He’s always singing.”

Yoosung’s eyes darted around the room, then he leaned forward and asked, “You want to get out of here? Grab some food?”

You flashed him as thumbs up and packed up your stuff. Tailing after the blonde haired boy, you were greeted with actual sunlight for the first time in a few hours.

“It’s so bright out,” you whined, shading your eyes as they adjusted. 

Yoosung laughed. “Vitamin D is good for you! You’re going to be a troll like in LOLOL if you don’t see the light of day, (Y/N).”

You huffed, faking indignation. “I am not a troll! I’ll show you how a troll would beat you up if you call me that again.”

The boy shook his head quickly. Although he was ranked 2nd in game, he didn’t want the risk of losing his loot by being beat up. He worked hard to earn those super rare weapons.

Way back during first year courses, you had met and became friends with Yoosung through LOLOL. You weren’t obsessed with the game as much as he was, but you did well enough to rank within top ten with a bit of effort. Nowadays, getting through your courses was your priority. LOLOL was a fun break though, when you found the odd break.

“That’s what I thought.”

“You still play LOLOL?”

“Not as much as you - but yeah.” 

“We should team up sometime!”

You laughed. “Do you even study at all, Yoosung?”

“Sometimes!”

As the two of you stepped into the cafe near campus, Yoosung paused and turned to look at you.

“You said your soulmate is always singing right?” he asked.

You nodded, wondering where he was going with this. 

“Maybe he works in the music industry,” Yoosung mused. “Like, behind the scenes? As a producer?”

Hearing this, you paused and thought about it. Could that be a possibility?

“Maybe,” you murmured. “I’ll look into it.” 

Yoosung gave you an encouraging smile. “You’ll find him one of these days, (Y/N). Don’t worry about it.”

You hoped Yoosung was right about this. 

As you were walking back to your own apartment, a poster caught your eye.

Daydream: The Musical

Tickets now on sale!

The poster showed a shadowy figure surrounded by colourful nature and city scenes. Your eyes skimmed through the cast absentmindedly, as you didn’t recognize any names.

Starring: Julie Kim, Zen, Soobin Park...

Lingering in front of the poster, you decided that, it looked interesting. Pulling out your phone, you hastily took a picture so you could look further into the details of the musical later. 

“Dinner,” you recalled suddenly. You needed to eat but you also needed to study still. Well, can’t study on an empty stomach. Deciding to grab something light to snack on now and throw together some leftovers later tonight, you went in search of the local bread stand in your neighborhood.

Your eyes lit up when you spotted the vendor.

Excitedly moving towards them, you missed nearly colliding with the tall man in a hat walking the same way. Stumbling, you felt a strong, steady hand on your back, helping you regain your balance.

“Oh, sorry,” you squeaked out. “And thank you!”

How did you miss this guy? He was pretty tall and stood out - his features were really handsome too. Could he be a celebrity or something? He definitely had the looks for it. You were definitely not staring.

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” he replied. “Go ahead, ladies first.”

“T-thank you!”

You stepped up in front of the stall, knowing exactly what you were going to get. Hearing the man’s footsteps behind you, you decided to thank the kind stranger from saving you from an embarrassing fall.

“Two goldfish bread - separately wrapped, please!”

“Coming right up! Done classes for the day?” the owner asked.

You bobbed your head as you handed over the payment. “Yeah. Not done studying though.”

“Ah, must be rough. Good luck on that.”

“Thank you,” you chimed back. as you accepted the bread. Turning around, you held out one bag for the handsome stranger behind you. “And thank you for saving me from tripping earlier.”

“No, no, I couldn’t -”

“I insist!”

He accepted with a grateful smile. You swear, he sparkled in the light of the sunset.

“Thank you then.”

You returned his smile with your own before heading off.

Time to prepare for the upcoming exam.

Your week had flew by rather quickly. With exams and some other assignments being all crammed into such a short amount of time made you feel like you lost a few years on your life. 

Sometimes you wondered why anyone would choose to suffer.

Yet, here you were. And all you had to do was attend post secondary. 

Your soulmate seemed to be busy all week as well. The sound of his voice singing the same melodies over and over were in the back of your head the entire time. He had such a soothing voice that you were certain that he was the one who was keeping you sane.

Finally gifted with free time, you decided to make the most of it.

Browsing around on your phone, the picture of the musical poster caught your eye once more. Noticing the showings aligned with your newfound freedom, you decided - why not?

Searching up the link for the theater, you looked around the website and then bought a ticket. 

A sense of excitement and anticipation filled you. It’s been a while since you did anything fun. This would be a worthwhile experience.

Settling down into your seat at the theater, you couldn’t help but glance around. The place was relatively busy despite it being a weekday evening. Looking over the pamphlet that was given to you at the entrance, all the cast and crew were listed.

Your eyes skimmed over it, not recognizing any of the names except for the few you’ve seen on the promotional poster. Perhaps it would take a more theater experience before you would become familiar with any of them.

The lights began to dim and the chatter died down as music became to play. Ensuring your phone was silent, you made yourself comfortable. The moment the musical started, you were swept away in awe of the performance. 

Experiencing a musical live felt different from watching a movie. It was so much more... uplifting. You were absolutely enchanted by the musical. 

When the male lead became to sing his part however, that was when things felt strange to you. It felt like you were hearing an echo of their singing. None of the other actors and actresses had that effect. It took a moment, but then it dawned on you. You’ve heard this before, nights before.

It was your soulmate.

They must be singing this song too.

But when every note, pitch and pause matched the ones on stage, you had your suspicions. 

After intently watching the male lead sing though, you soon drew to a new conclusion.

That was your soulmate on stage. 

You continued to watch in silent surprise as your soulmate danced and sung their way across the stage. His red eyes had swept over you briefly in passing, but you could see the passion blazing. It was clear he loved his career. 

Once the musical ended with thunderous applause, you immediately pulled out your phone to do some research. Since you had chosen a seat near the middle front, you knew it would take a while before you’d be able to get out.

Doing a search for ‘Zen’, with the words ‘musical actor’ hastily typed afterwards, you soon found a plethora of information about your soulmate. Zen had a dedicated fan base that loved his every production - there was even a section about his unknown soulmate. An interview caught your eye. It was dated for a few months back, but a quote from your soulmate made you pause.

“I’m really focused on my career right now - it took a lot of work to get to where I am today, but I’m happy to be here.”

He was good looking, hard working and dedicated. You knew your soulmate would be perfect, but you never expected this. Zen was basically the ideal guy. 

Seeing the theater emptying out, you stood and walked out.

Sure, you had been super excited to meet your soulmate after spending late nights listening to singing, but after seeing this article, you had a feeling that he might need more time. 

Zen was a busy person with a lot going on in his life. With how popular he was now, you didn’t was to disrupt anything at the moment. You would give him the opportunity to seek you out when he was ready.

Zen had nearly faltered in his singing the first time when he had heard his soulmate humming along the tune he was singing. Listening to the tune and timing of the song, they were definitely doing it alongside with him.

He remembered his eyes searching the audience hopefully. Wondering who might his soulmate be. That first night... he wasn’t able to identify her.

Nor the second, third or fourth.

When he had heard her humming the second time he was performing, he was certain that his soulmate was in the audience and made the effort to come see him perform. She must have known who he was. 

Zen had lingered around after shows, hoping to see his soulmate. Hoping that she would reach out to introduce herself and he could become her knight in shining armor to sweep her off her feet. It never happened though.

Regardless, it made him happy to hear her humming alongside him when he performed. She was supporting him.

He knew he was a busy person. Perhaps his soulmate knew that and kept her distance. What she didn’t know though, was Zen was dying to meet her. 

He always wanted to make the effort to go find her, but never had much to go off on. His soulmate was a rare singer, so he never knew where to start.

Now that he knew though, he was constantly searching.

He noticed someone over the past few times with (H/C) hair that sat near the middle of the theater. The girl’s smile seemed to brighten when he showed up on stage. It was possible that she was another one of his fans, but at the last showing, she had tried very hard to step out of room quietly and his soulmate had stopped her soft humming at that moment too.

Zen felt certain about this. 

She had to be the one.

Having finished another showing for the day, Zen tried to slip out quickly to catch up to his soulmate. Making sure not to be rude, he thanked his co-stars, staff and director before taking off. She tended to linger around a little longer, being almost the last person out. There was a chance Zen could catch up to her and he was going to take it.

Catching a glimpse of (H/C) hair, he instinctively moved towards it. 

The figure seemed to have sensed him coming, because they turned around and (E/C) eyes met his.

Stopping only a few feet away from her, Zen could see the glimmer and recognition in her eyes as she looked up in awe at the musical actor. 

“Great performance again tonight,” you said softly.

Finally hearing your voice in real life washed away any doubts Zen might have had. 

It was you.

“Thank you,” he breathed out. He could feel his heart pounding with excitement. “It’s... really you.”

Seeing how lost for words he was, you decided to speak up.

“Hyun Ryu, right?” you asked. When he nodded, you broke into a smile. “I’m (Y/N) (L/N). Nice to finally meet you, soulmate.”

The biggest smile broke out on his face as he engulfed you into a hug. His tall stature didn’t bother him as he nuzzled into your neck. While you should have been startled, you weren’t. Knowing this was your soulmate, you felt safe being held in his arms. You relaxed and returned his hug. 

“(Y/N)... I’ve been waiting for you,” Zen murmured. He pulled back a bit to look at you. “I want to get to know you better. Would you like to grab something to eat together?”

“Sure!”

“Okay, I know this great goldfish bread place -”

The two of you stopped, a distant memory resurfacing. Zen grinned fondly at you.

“ - I’ll treat you this time, though, princess.” 

With all the lost time between the two of you, finally being together felt natural. Like finding an old friend and being able to catch up without any awkward moments. 

Your soulmate was your perfect match and with Zen you knew that you couldn’t be happier. Just as much as you loved to listen to him inside your head, hearing his voice in real life and getting to be by his side made life all the more wonderful.

The two of you finally found you happily ever after.

[seventeencaratimagines]

Adore U

since I’ve been inactive for so long, I’m not really getting many requests, so I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands!! I’m going to do a series of imagines based on the title tracks (+ Getting Closer and Hit to make it 13)!! I hope you enjoy, and send me some requests!! also just to let you know I’ve already decided who will be each song lmao so like I mean requests unrelated to this series

“So what I mean is I want to know all of you.”

-

There was something that Wonwoo found so absolutely enchanting about you. Maybe it was that bright spark in your eyes whenever you began to talk about something that you were passionate about—small, but so glaringly obvious to someone who knew to look for it—or maybe it was the way that you combed your fingers through your hair again and again in a fruitless attempt to get it out of your face when you were trying to focus. Maybe it was the unabashed way that you laughed when there was no one but the two of you around or maybe it was the open and honest way that you spoke your mind. Maybe it was any combination of those things or some factors that Wonwoo hadn’t even considered. He didn’t know what it was. All he knew was that he wanted to know. 

You’d been friends for a while already, but still, it seemed that there was something new that he discovered about you each time that you were together. He’d be perfectly content to just sit and talk with you for hours, so when you texted him and asked if he had some free time in the afternoon, his response was an enthusiastic ‘yes’ (though, of course, he was mindful of sounding too enthusiastic, so the text that you actually received was a carefully worded “Yeah, sure”). When you followed up by asking to meet at a nearby cafe, Wonwoo thought that the stars must have just aligned in his favor. It was simple, and it was a perfect chance to just talk and focus on each other. 

A perfect chance to confess, he couldn’t help but to think, color rising in his cheeks alongside the thought. Confess. Just that one word sounded so daunting. Out of all the things that he’d talked about with you, your feelings for each other had yet to come up. Maybe that was for the best, though, he thought; he liked what the two of you had and he wouldn’t want to jeopardize that relationship. 

Even so, the thought lingered. Would your eyes light up that same way if he told you how he felt? Would he get to hear even more of that addictive laugh of yours? His heart raced at the idea of it.

A sudden thunk to the side of his head broke him from his thoughts. He raised a hand to cover the site of the attack and looked around, blinking quickly in surprise, only to be met by Jeonghan with a sour expression on his face and a hand on his hip that looked suspiciously guilty of some thunking.

“Hey, Wonwoo,” nagged the elder. “Are you even listening to me?”

“No,” he replied honestly, and in the face of his bluntness, it was all that Jeonghan could do to stare incredulously. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted to get lunch later,” Jeonghan repeated, exasperated. “Seriously, can you just, like, turn your hearing on and off at will?”

Ignoring the latter half of the statement, Wonwoo shook his head. “No, I’ve got plans.” While he tried to keep his expression neutral, he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from shifting ever so slightly upwards, and that miniscule movement was all that it took for Jeonghan to catch onto the unspoken details.

“Ah,” he hummed knowingly, sly smirk forming. “Are those plans with ______, by any chance?”

“I wonder…” Wonwoo tried to tease back, but the full fledged smile that had now broken out on his face betrayed the truth of the matter. 

Earlier irritation nowhere to be found, Jeonghan sighed, slinging an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders. “And here I was so worried about you!” He lamented jokingly. “You were so quiet, I thought something was bothering you, but I see now it’s just the work of love.”

“Hey, who said anything about love?” Wonwoo shrugged him off.

Jeonghan scoffed. “When you’ve got that big smile and that dazed look, who needs to say anything?”

***

Confession. Love. Confession. Love. Confession. Love. 

Those two words looped incessantly in Wonwoo’s head for the rest of the day. The entire time that he spent deciding exactly which way to comb his hair, exactly which color to wear, whether he wanted to wear glasses or not, he couldn’t shake the thought. If his feelings were that obvious to Jeonghan, then they were probably even more so to you, weren’t they? He felt his face flush once again at the thought of it. It was so unlike him to get so flustered, but there was something about you that just had a way of jumbling his thoughts. 

If he was already so excitable just thinking about seeing you, how would he act when he was actually in front of you?

The answer was ‘just as absent mindedly’. 

After hours of cycling through outfits and (failed) attempts to get the others’ opinions on how he looked without revealing the reason why, the time finally came to meet you. It felt almost as though he spent just as long standing outside the cafe checking his reflection and trying to push down all thoughts of romance (You’re just friends, he repeated in his mind like a mantra. You’re just there to drink coffee and talk like normal). When he finally pushed the door open and entered, though, all of the effort that had gone into maintaining his composure was immediately out the window. 

He had hoped that he would show up before you. He had the image perfectly painted in his head; he’d show up first and find a spot, and he’d order both of your drinks before you arrived. Then when you walked in and saw him, he’d be able to greet you coolly. 

That wasn’t the way that it really played out, though.

Instead, he was surprised to find that you had beat him there, already settled at a table along the wall, a comfortable distance away from the other guests. You scrolled through your phone while you waited, but at the light tinkling of a bell as the door opened, you looked up to meet Wonwoo’s gaze. The moment that you did, your face lit up with a bright smile, and all of Wonwoo’s efforts went out the window. God, you were gorgeous. 

He returned your smile as soon as his brain was able to catch up with his racing heart, making his way over to sit down with you. He almost might’ve managed to salvage the nonchalant image that he strove so hard for if he hadn’t tripped as he slid into his seat. 

“Graceful,” you laughed as he regained his balance. 

His cool guy aesthetic was lost, but he still tried to recover what he could, joking back, “Impressive, right? I’ve got a whole routine in the works, but I thought I’d just give you a sneak peak.”

“Oh, very impressive,” you agreed in mock earnesty. “To what do I owe the honor of getting such an exclusive preview?”

“I guess I just like you that much,” Wonwoo returned, not realizing just how his words sounded until they were already out of his mouth. 

When your response indicated that you didn’t take them that way, he couldn’t be more thankful. Thinking about confessing was one thing; actually doing it was an entirely separate matter. 

“I’m flattered,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee. “Anyway, how have you been? I feel like it’s been a while since we saw each other.”

Too long, Wonwoo wanted to agree, but instead replied, “I’ve been good. There’s nothing too exciting going on for me, so I’ve been able to rest a lot. What about you?”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” you replied, eyes down on your drink. There was a hint of something in your eyes that didn’t quite match their usual sparkle, but it was gone quickly enough as you tried to brush it off. “It’s nothing to worry about, though. I’ll live.”

“What’s wrong?” Wonwoo asked, concerned by the uncharacteristic avoidance. “You can always tell me what you’re thinking. I’ll listen.”

You attempted to wave his concern away, but he didn’t fail to notice that your smile seemed a bit heavier and your cheeks, a bit redder. “It’s no big deal, really,” you insisted. “I don’t want to get all heavy and serious on you.”

“I don’t mind,” Wonwoo insisted just as adamantly, and against his better judgement, he added, “I always get to see you smiling and laughing, but I want to see that side of you, too.”

“...You want to see me get all heavy and serious?”

“No, no, it’s not that I want you to feel like that,” he quickly corrected. “I just want you to be able to share it with me when you do. I mean… I want to know all about you. I really like seeing you smile and talk about the things that make you happy, but I’m sure I’d like the serious side of you just as much. I just want to know all of you.”

You were silent for a few moments as the red in your cheeks deepened, and Wonwoo wondered if he went too far.

“Wonwoo…” you spoke softly, eyes not quite meeting his—already a side of you that he wasn’t so familiar with. “That almost sounded like a confession.”

So he did go too far. 

He mimicked your earlier silence before he finally decided on what to say.

“That’s because it was.”

He didn’t know how a confession would go over, but he was never one to hide the truth when he was in such a natural place for it to come out. Besides, how could he tell you to be honest and share with him if he couldn’t do the same for you?

You raised a hand to your mouth, but even that wasn’t enough to conceal the broad smile spreading across your face. “I can’t believe it…”

“That’s not a very promising response,” Wonwoo attempted to joke, trying to bury his growing insecurity at your ambiguous answer. He’d been brave for as long as it took to say those words, but now that they were out in the world, they were a fair bit more embarrassing. 

“It’s not that!” You said quickly, sounding not at all unlike Wonwoo’s own clarification. “It’s just… what if I told you… that what was on my mind was trying to figure out how to tell you how comfortable I feel talking to you, or how excited I get to see you, or just… that I like you?”

He suddenly understood what you meant by not being able to believe it. Hearing those words from you that he had been contemplating himself for so long felt like a dream, like something out of a fairy tale. All of the goofy smiles and absent mindedness were worth it, he thought, if it meant that he got to hear words like that from you. Of course, he’d love to talk to you about anything and everything, but those words, he decided, were his favorite that you had said to him so far.

“...I’d say that we have a lot more to talk about.”

-

sorry if that was a bit rough lmao I’m hella out of practice T-T but that’s why I’m here :’) also another weird thing was that like I do most of my writing in present tense these days, but that just sounded so awkward with the second person so I had to go back to good ol past tense so sorry if there are any tense switches r.i.p old habits die hard

[imagine and ship requests are OPEN]

[choupichoups]

Collect the stars each time I think of you [ 1 // 2 ]

Eliott 23:27 How far away are you?

Lucas 23:27 Like 2 mins

Eliott 23:28 Okay  Door’s unlocked!!  Just head straight in

Lucas jogs up the stairs, steps rapid as a wind up toy, giddy at the prospect of seeing his boyfriend after a long day apart. 

Or, well, technically, it’s only been half a day since they’d gone out for breakfast together but who’s counting anyway? He’s long accepted the fact that he misses Eliott for every minute they spend separately, seconds dragging slower than sand in an hourglass. Yes, he’s that kind of whipped bastard in love, so sue him. 

He trips over an uprooted part of the carpet on the top stair and only just manages to catch himself on the dirty flooring. Slowly, he regains his breathing and brushes a hand through his hair so as to not be too obvious about rushing up the door— Eliott would probably tease him about it right up til midnight.

Speaking of which. 

Lucas settles his hands over the doorknob, pressing his ear against the door to check if he can make out any sounds coming from the other side. It’s his birthday tomorrow and he’s not stupid. He’s dating Eliott ‘Romance the shit out of you’ Demaury, he knows his boyfriend’s got plans, okay. Not like he’d be disappointed if there aren’t any surprises in store for him, he’d honestly be content with just a kiss (or two), but his chest still flutters in anticipation as he turns the knob. 

Eliott’s invited him over for an impromptu ‘movie night’ and has been oddly quiet on the topic of Lucas’ birthday. Something’s up. He can feel it in his jellies.  

Pulling his bottom lip under his teeth, Lucas nudges the door open and promptly freezes, greeting at the tip of his tongue gone unspoken as his eyes try their best to adjust in the dark. He vaguely hears the door swing shut behind him when his hands go slack by his sides, helplessly struck by the glowing speckles of light scattered all over the walls and ceiling. He squints at them, shaking his head as his eyes grow slightly tired from staring into the white light too much. It looks impeccably like Eliott had somehow managed to bring all the stars in the sky and trap them all in this very room. A sight only for them to selfishly enjoy. 

He huffs out an incredulous laugh. “Eliott?” 

There’s a shuffling from somewhere low on his right and Lucas glances down, belatedly registering the tangled loops of fairy lights by his feet. They lead a path straight to the living room where Eliott sits on the floor, bathed in soft pinks and oranges and greys. Under the crafted stars and stringed fireflies, Eliott looks ethereal. 

“Hey,” Eliott says softly, voice matching the lovely atmosphere he’s created. “Welcome to movie night.”  

Lucas has to laugh again, this time a little louder but no less stunned. “I don’t recall movie night ever being this, um, beautiful.” 

Even in the dark, he can point out the exact moment Eliott perks up. “You think it’s beautiful?” 

“Of course,” Lucas responds, quiet, almost whispered, as he takes in the furniture pushed far along the wall, almost invisible if you weren’t looking, and in the large vacant space in the middle of the living room stands the coziest looking blanket fort Lucas’ eyes have ever been subjected to. “Wow.”

It’s Eliott’s turn to laugh. “You coming?” he asks, like Lucas has ever learned to refuse that question. 

The fairy lights gather thick around the wide perimeter of the fort Eliott’s built and then pour out artfully along the sides and the top. Lucas toes his shoes off and ducks into the mass of sheets and pillows, immediately sinking into the comfort of them as he settles down. The interior of the fort is lit up by small glowing jars of what looks like more tiny stars trapped inside and Jesus, how exactly did Eliott manage to— “How in the fuck did you do all of this? How did you even make these?”

He takes one of the jars, stares skeptically at the lights floating inside, and shakes it vigorously. 

Eliott snatches it away. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“Okay, Mr. Etsy Demaury, sorcerer of DIY himself.” Lucas relents, scooting over to examine the jars some more but resisting the urge to play with them this time around. “Do we have snacks?”

“In the kitchen.”  

“Okay… why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“Eliott, you honestly expect me to get up and get them myself?”

“Why not?”  

“Look at me.” Lucas turns over, forcing himself to sit up so he can look Eliott square in the eye. “Look at me and tell me that this is the face of someone who will willingly leave this pillow heaven for some gummy worms.” 

Eliott, asshole that he is, actually looks like he’s considering Lucas seriously. “I don’t know, Lucas, they’re the sour neon ones you love so much.” 

Okay, that’s a dirty trick. Lucas takes back all the nice, sappy thoughts he’d had pertaining to Eliott up to this point. “Ugh, fuck, what’s your use?” 

“Hey!”

“No snacks for either of us if you’re not getting up.”

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah, anyway, what are we watching?”

“Pride and Prejudice.”

Lucas pretends to moan and groan about it as Eliott sets up the projector (because of course he’s using a projector), nitpicking until it’s angled straight onto the dark starlit wall. When Eliott actually crawls over to lay down beside him, though, Lucas forgets what he’s been complaining about, choosing instead to curl up close by Eliott’s side.

As the opening scene flashes on the screen, Lucas lets himself look away, cheek pressed soft against Eliott’s shoulder first, and then snuggling closer until he falls comfortably aligned onto Eliott’s chest. He feels the arm around him tighten, rubbing along his back in warm, gentle circles that lull him half into sleep. But he stubbornly stays awake, wanting to indulge in every second of this moment, not quite ready to face the thought of closing his eyes and opening them to the break of sunlight, their stars awashed along with the night. 

He’s conveniently angled to look up at Eliott without much effort, so he does it as much as he wants, glimpsing random bits of movie plot before his eyes inevitably slide back to his boyfriend’s slightly furrowed brows, down to the perfect slope of his nose, and lower to where his lips are pursed. It’s endearing how concentrated Eliott is considering he’s seen the same film more than once. 

“You’re missing the entire thing,” Eliott says eventually and Lucas smothers a giggle into his shirt. 

“I’d rather not miss what I’m seeing,” Lucas says, unfiltered in his sleepy daze. He realizes how cheesy that must sound but it doesn’t matter, he’s struck slightly dumb— only one coherent thought keeps running through his mind, a solemn echo of the same words he’d already spoken once, seemingly a lifetime ago. No one’s ever done this for me before. 

He’s quickly realizing that Eliott will be his first for many things. 

Eliott peels his eyes from the movie, snorting out a chuckle. “Stop being cute,” he says, running a hand through Lucas’ hair, fingers gentle as he pets along the front before gliding back down to tap at Lucas’ nose. Lucas vaguely registers that as something one would do to appease a little puppy and he doesn’t even care. “I’m trying to watch the movie.” 

“You’ve seen this a thousand times.”

“And you see me everyday.”

“So?” 

The next time Eliott looks at him, his eyes are immeasurably fond. “Happy birthday, baby.” And oh, it must’ve hit midnight while Lucas was busy admiring him. He should be excited, what with it officially being his special day, but a distant voice inside his head helpfully reminds him that there are only about four more hours left before the sun comes out to play. Before the spell they’ve put themselves under breaks. “I love you,” Eliott sighs, effectively knocking Lucas back into the present. 

Four hours carry a load of minutes. 

When put that way, it feels like they’ve got all the time in the world.

There’s a smile fighting through his fatigue and Lucas has no problem letting it win. “Thank you.” He places a kiss on Eliott’s chest over his shirt, closing his eyes to bask in the rest of their night. “I love you.”

It seems like that isn’t enough for Eliott though, and Lucas is pulled up, one hand around his arm and one firm around his waist. He accidentally breathes a huff of laughter into the kiss, not expecting to be dragged along like that. But he’s not going to complain, not even when he loses the perfect spot he’d been nestled into just seconds prior. 

“I love you so much,” Eliott repeats, voice full of emotion. Lucas’ heart flutters like it’s the first time all over. 

“Me too,” he says, their lips close, brushing at every word. “Me too,” he says, again, because once doesn’t feel adequate enough. 

They sink back into the cushions, limbs tangled and skin flush against the other as Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth fall into the background. The lights gleam a spectrum of colours around them, and Lucas watches pale shadows form over the smooth of Eliott’s skin. His fingers spider along broad shoulders, smiling as goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch. It’s bound to get really fucking hot any minute now, what with Eliott hovering over him like this, Lucas’ entire form covered under his, but Lucas wouldn’t mind the heat— not as long as Eliott’s unruly nest of hair keeps ticking at his chin like that, not when lightly stubbled cheeks keeps brushing along his skin like that, not when warm lips trail soft little kisses down his neck like that. 

And suddenly he’s not so afraid of the night ending anymore, not when Eliott’s presence is a static promise come the next day. He knows, without a seed of doubt in his mind, that he’s about to experience the absolute best birthday he’s ever had in his short life.

It’s already starting off that way. 

[jawnjendes]

i should be running | shawn mendes

chapter 2/?, university au, shawn x goth oc

AN: angst n smut. maybe uuuuhhhhhh lmk if you wanna see anything specific happen with these idiots?? could be smutty, angsty, or even fluffy or sumn. oh and let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist.

masterlist | playlist coming soon

"He might as well have pounced on you," Patrick said, eyes on the screen of his switch. "That look in his eyes… no wonder you're in so deep."

Annalise ignored him as her King Boo threw a red shell at his Dry Bones. That was her response to his statement. Still, her cheeks went hot and red recalling the way Shawn stared her down the other night. It was practically a reflex when it comes to that guy. It didn't really help that he was literally a few yards away.

The stars had a very irritating way of aligning when Annalise and Shawn were supposed to be separated. The one time Annalise decided to hang out with a friend outside of a classroom just so happened to be the same time Shawn did the exact same thing. Not to mention, he was having another impromptu jam session with Alessia, both sat on a picnic table out in the sun. It was the same table as the one from a few nights ago, but there were more people surrounding them. Oh, and Shawn was wearing a particularly tight black tanktop, so if Annalise stared enough his way she would be able to make out the pretty tattoo on the back of his arm.

She and Patrick were sitting under the shade of the biggest tree on the courtyard, wanting to be outside, but definitely not basking in the rare sunlight. Patrick won the Mario Kart race despite Annalise's best efforts. Blame the distraction who was playing guitar and singing audibly.

"Ooo, second place, Flowers," Patrick smugly said. "You've lost your edge."

"Oh, shut up. Let's smash now," Annalise said back, closing the current game.

"Really? In front of your mans?"

She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. "Shut the fuck up."

They had that type of banter… before Annalise was in a relationship. Before everything else. Annalise was just too flustered and distracted by Mr. Arm Muscles to join in, so she annihilated Patrick at Smash Bros for three rounds.

~

There was a check in every two weeks. There was only one before the semester started, and it was very quick given that Annalise and Shawn were still living under the same roof. Now that there had been some proper physical separation, it was time to do things right. Annalise still had knot after knot forming in her stomach, though. For a split second, her mind went back to diverticulitis and flashbacks of being rolled around on a gurney invaded her mind. She shook it off and marched through the parking lot.

She agreed to meet at Shawn's apartment because the semester starting meant that holes were being burnt in their wallets. They couldn't afford a simple coffee shop hang out, and it was too public for something like this, anyway.

Annalise thought it would have been too awkward for any kind of touch when Shawn answered the door. However, he immediately took her in his arms and hugged her as tight as he could. It was already very different from their last check in.

To be blunt, she really fucking missed being held in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his middle, feeling the warmth consume her whole body. She missed this so much she could cry, but she had to mask it all. Couldn't have Shawn thinking she was having second thoughts about her decision.

Shawn wasn't one to hold back, though. He leaned back and held her hands as he led her inside his place. "I missed you so much. I miss coming home to you."

Annalise didn't know what to say. Shawn's facial features were soft and completely kissable, but she resisted by letting herself into the living room. Not much had changed here in the two weeks she was gone, although she did miss playing her Switch on that huge flat screen. She was still quiet though, and it gave Shawn more room to speak.

"See, this is still like a home to you! Oh, and I still have your key, since you left it here… uh, where did I put it?"

"Shawn," she finally said before he could dash into another room and create more distractions. She nodded towards the couch so he could sit with her.

He looked at her, and his face fell a little. His shoulders hunched as he walked around to the couch. He sat next to her and looked down at his lap.

Annalise tilted her head. "You okay?"

Shawn met her eyes, bemused. "You're breaking up with me, aren't you?"

"Wha- no!" she replied, shocked.

"So we're getting back together?"

"No…"

"Annie…"

"Don't call me that," she said seriously. Then she sighed. "We're checking in. I just wanna see how you're doing."

He shrugged and leaned back, far more relaxed now. "I'm still confused as to why we're doing this. That's all I've been trying to figure out lately."

"Okay, anyway… how are your classes? How's work."

"Annalise, I swear to god…" Shawn groaned, tilting his head back. Then he looked her dead in the eyes and leaned forward. "Do you wanna break up? You moved out-"

"Because I have a dorm."

"-and you left your key behind!"

"Because I don't live here."

Shawn paused, and his expression went from aggravated to just plain sad. "You won't even answer my texts. And don't say it's because you're busy. I know that's not true."

Whatever sympathy was building up was gone. Annalise narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean?"

"You think I haven't seen you playing games with that guy in the courtyard?" he asked. "You've never wanted to sit outside with me. And now you suddenly don't have time to answer my texts. C'mon Ann, I'm not an idiot."

She pushed her tongue into her cheek as she listened to that shit. Then, she spoke coldly. "First of all, that guy is Patrick and he's only a friend. Second, I don't know what to say to someone who only says 'I miss you' every ten seconds."

"So you don't miss me at all?"

"That's not the point!"

"Then what is the fucking point?" Shawn got to his feet, completely exasperated. "What exactly are we doing here? Because I don't know what's happening anymore! Am I losing you? Are you gonna come back to me? What the fuck is happening here, Ann?"

She buried her face in her hands for a moment and took a deep breath. She did know just how much Shawn did not like the separation idea, but she hadn't realized just how shaken up he still was.

"I want you to make sure you have your priorities in check."

"What, like I'm some stupid teenager?" Shawn snapped.

Clearly, he was irrational. Annalise wasn't going to try to force him to see it her way, it didn't work when the separation idea was first brought up over a month ago. Sighing, she got up and silently went for the door.

"Ann, honey," Shawn called, following after her. "Wait, wait!" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him.

She faced him once again, giving him a look as she yanked her arm back.

"I'm sorry," he told her in a much calmer tone. "Explain it to me again."

"I just don't wanna see you lose your focus for other things," Annalise said. "We really went through it over the summer, remember? I don't wanna be the only thing you worry about."

"Well, I know you're strong, little fighter. But I love you too much to not worry. And I worry even more now that we're on this stupid separation thing."

Annalise kept herself from laughing. "You seem fine during your impromptu mini concerts on the courtyard."

"Yeah, because singing is the other love of my life."

"Mm, you seem comfy with that Alessia girl too."

Shawn raised his eyebrows, now amused. "Jealous?"

Now she had to laugh. "I could ask you the same thing."

"I never knew about Patrick until last week."

"You never asked." Besides, she may have left her other friends in the dark when she got into this relationship. More reasons for the separation. "And I never knew about Alessia."

"Because she's new. You sure you're not jealous?" Shawn asked with a smirk.

Annalise scoffed. "I don't get jealous."

"You told me you don't cry either, but uh…"

Oof. He knows her too well.

She smiled stiffly. "I'll see you again in two weeks."

"You don't have to. You can stay." Shawn placed his hands on her shoulders. "Stay."

"Separation is good," Annalise told him, cupping his face and loving the way he leaned into the touch. "We can't spend every minute together, I think this last summer proved that."

Shawn stared her down for a moment, his big hand moving to hold her wrist. He really tried to understand why all this was happening. He really tried to find other reasons besides the scary idea that his girl wanted to leave him. The priorities thing, the not losing focus thing, the fact that they spent too much time together over the summer… it really smelled like bullshit. Maybe she was slipping through his fingers, and maybe he had to fight before she was completely gone.

"Can I at least kiss you before you go?" he asked, his voice small and soft.

Over the last month, Annalise thought she had done well with keeping a distance and being on her own. She was regaining her own compromised independence and getting back to being a strong lady. She was good at convincing herself that she didn't need Shawn at her side all the time.

Turns out, she's just a giant sucker.

Annalise really should have known better than to do the check in here. It was way too private, too much room for certain things to happen. Shawn kissed her softly once and was about to pull back, but her hands went to the back of his neck and kept their lips together. Without missing a beat, he walked her backwards and trapped her between his body and the wall. His hands planted on either side of her head, practically towering over her as his tongue went into her mouth.

All logic and inhibitions went out the door in less than a second. It was like they were reuniting after being on opposite ends of the planet. It was like this was the last time they would ever get a moment like this again. Annalise slid her hands down his torso, feeling the heat of his body through his white tee. When she locked her arms around his shoulders, Shawn bent a little to grab the backs of her thighs and hook them around his hips. It didn’t take long for Annalise to groan into his mouth when he circled his hips into hers. It certainly didn’t take long for Shawn to get hard in his jeans either. Without breaking the kiss, he walked them both into his bedroom and kicked the door closed behind him.

It was a mess of wrinkling bed sheets and clothes flying to the floor. Annalise's ripped leggings and Shawn's t-shirt made it off their bodies, and then he grabbed her shoulder and roughly pushed her onto her back. Both of their hearts pounded as he crawled on top of her and attached their lips together again.

They didn't even make it to the pillows. Shawn was trailing wet kisses along her neck, his fingers hooking into her cotton underwear. In one swift motion, he pulled the measly fabric down her legs. There wasn't any room for slow, sensual touching and building each other up. They were already as stressed and needy as could be. Annalise was just aching for him between her legs, and she pulled on his waist to bring him closer, her stomach flipping at the heat on his skin.

Suddenly, Shawn paused and held himself up on his elbows. His lips were shiny, swollen, and absolutely gorgeous. Annalise couldn't help but trace the bottom one with her thumb. Then, their eyes met and it threatened to spoil the heat of the moment. Shawn's eyes were soft and sparkling, the rough neediness gone out of nowhere. He usually had that look when things would move slower, when he was about to bare his soul and spill a bunch of sweet nothings. He looked at her face and gently stroked her cheek, making her skin tingle so much she wanted to scratch it away.

"My beautiful girl," he said softly.

It was sweet, but Annalise did not want sweet at the moment. Her fingers went into his hair and gently tugged at the pretty locks, keeping a sultry eye on him.

"Fuck me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Shawn's mouth before he leaned down to kiss her again. "Condom?"

She nodded and then proceeded to take off her lace cardigan while he went to the nightstand drawer. Her hands trembled as she dropped more of her clothes onto the floor, leaving her completely naked. She rolled onto her front, watching Shawn pull off his jeans and briefs in one go. Her mouth watered just from the sight of his naked body, and she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

Shawn looked into her brown eyes, licking his lips. His eyes trailed over her back and plump ass, his cock twitching at the thought of taking her that way. But he hasn't been with her intimately in far too long, and he needed to be able to hold her and see her face. Yes, it's cheesy as fuck but that's what happens when you're stupidly in love with the goth chick. Yes, Shawn was very stupidly in love with Annalise.

He circled his finger with a cocky smirk, signaling her to turn onto her back. When she obliged, he crawled on top of her with the intention of fully warming her up and building up her high, but the way she kissed him and wrapped her legs around his waist indicated that she was ready. The way that she whispered in between kisses for him to fill her up was also a good indicator as well.

"Whatever you want, baby," he told her as he grabbed his base and slowly inserted himself.

It didn't take long for her soft, sweet panting to fill the room. Her fingernails dug into Shawn's back, and he snaked his arm around her shoulders, holding her as close as he could. Their noses touched and his necklace dangled in the valley of her breasts, it felt familiar and good in a way. Resting his head in the crook of her neck, Shawn let out a slow deep breath and appreciated the feeling of their bodies connecting. Slowly but surely, he started to gently rock his hips against hers, wanting this to last.

Ann whined in the back of her throat, raking her fingers down his back. "Harder… Mmm, ruin me."

Shawn picked his head up and looked down at her. She was biting her lip, and pressing down on his back, wanting him the way she said. And who was he to deny her?

With a deep breath, he picked himself up on his knees and held her waist, pistoning his hips as quickly as he could. A groan sounded from deep in his chest, his eyes fluttering shut. He breathed out a soft "fuck" feeling her clench around him.

"Mm, fuck yes!" Ann cried out, grabbing at the sheets above her. "Oh, fuck, fuck me!"

The bed creaked and hit the wall repeatedly, mixing in with the sounds the two of them were making. Shawn couldn't help but feel smug as he watched Ann's assertive and bold demeanor crumble underneath him. Only times like these did he see her fall completely at his mercy, and god, it turned him on so much. He absolutely loved that he could bring her down to this level, make her feel so good she was rendered incoherent. He slid his hand up her body, stopping for a moment to grab her breast. Then, Ann took hold of his wrist, her eyes wide and her bottom lip jutting out. They both knew what to do. Shawn leaned over her again to properly wrap his fist around her neck.

"Like that, baby?" he asked between huffs of breath, trying to keep his movements consistent. "You like it when I fucking choke you? You like getting fucked like this, you dirty fucking girl?"

Ann mumbled and sputtered under his hold, attempting to nod her head.

"What about this?" he egged on, moving his free hand down in between them. He rubbed quick circles into her clit, causing her to clench around him even more. "Ooh, fuck. Yeah, you like that, you fucking love that."

Her mouth was open, but no sound came out. Shawn decided he liked it better when she was verbal about how he made her feel, so he moved his hand from her neck to the side of her face. Something of a snarl came out of him as he staggered his thrusts, and he found himself grabbing her chin, slightly squishing her cheeks. His nose touched hers, hot breath on her lips before he tasted her tongue. His fingers were relentless on her clit, the feeling so good he almost wanted to go down there and suck it into his mouth until she was writhing.

The sounds coming out of her were just as good, though. She spoke, sounding absolutely wrecked and just the way Shawn liked her to be. “Don’t stop… please don’t stop…”

“Mm, anything you want, baby…” he mumbled against the corner of her mouth.

It was almost ironic because Ann was the one on her back getting fucked senseless, but Shawn was ready to do anything for her. All she had to do was ask. Who was more submissive here?

He hovered over her, watching her tits bounce as he pounded into her. He watched the hair at the top of her head get messier and messier with every move. He really had to admire the fact that her intense winged liner had stayed intact this entire time. Only his Ann…

"Fuck, you look so good like this," Shawn mumbled, brows knitted. He couldn't stop himself from rambling, now feeling as fucked as she did. "God baby, you're so fucking good at taking my cock… You're so good to me… Fuck…"

Ann moved her small hands up his chest, wrapping the chain of his necklace around her finger. The look on her face changed from absolutely wrecked to something more serious. Her free hand tugged at the hair on the nape of his neck, and then she was tilting her head back and panting wildly.

"I'm close," she warned, squeezing her eyes shut. "Don't stop, I'm gonna come!"

Shawn could feel it too, and his heart nearly fell out of his body. He felt the heavenly pulses around his cock and rubbed at her clit just to make it feel that much better for her. "Fuck yeah, give it to me honey…"

She let out a noise that was both the cutest and sexiest thing he's ever heard. Her voice went up several octaves as she cried out, and her entire body twitched the way Shawn liked to see it. He growled through his teeth, thriving in the tight pulsing around his cock and the burning scratch marks on his back and shoulders. He thrust as hard as he could, needing to reach his own high now that Ann had hers. Roughly, he moved her wrists from his shoulders and pinned them above her head, his jaw going slack as he let himself go. Steady pulses of cum spilled into the condom, and Shawn tilted his head back, his orgasm so good and sweet he couldn't make any sound. He only panted and erratically gave a few more thrusts until he was spent.

Sweat coated both of their bodies, and their heavy breathing was the only sound in the air. Shawn pulled out and rolled onto his back, his eyelids heavy and body melting into the mattress. He smiled contently and then tapped Ann's wrist.

"C'mere..."

The two of them crawled up to the pillows and went under the covers, both so sleepy and content that they didn't care about the damp spot. Shawn held onto Ann's hand, waiting for her to desperately crawl into her arms. She was always shamelessly in need of cuddles and affection post orgasm, and Shawn loved every bit of it because it meant he could hold her and nose at her hair as she slept. What he couldn't put into words was put into all the chaste little touches he gave her. And she lapped it up and let herself be touched and loved every time without fail.

Shawn fell asleep before he could realize Ann was holding herself back.

~

It doesn't matter if it's the same night or the morning after, the walk was still shameful no matter what. Annalise was just glad that Shawn fell asleep on his side of the bed and not on her chest like he typically did. It was much easier for her to slip out of bed, put her clothes back on, and sneak out of the apartment. The knots in her stomach didn't let up once she was in the car, though. They did agree that this was a check in after all, and she could honestly say... dick still bomb.

Annalise got back to campus well after ten o'clock. It wasn't that late, but she still felt off, like she was sneaking back into her parents' house after going to a party she was told not to attend. She felt both thrilled and terrified that she did something very wrong, and the evidence was all there in her shaky legs.

Of course, Stella was sitting in the armchair facing the door when Annalise finally made it back. She wasn't alone, though. Camila was on the tiny sofa, and she perked up.

"Hey, girl," she greeted with a cheeky grin.

Stella had a knowing smile on her face, making Annalise feel very exposed. As much as she tried to fix her sexed up appearance in the car, it was easy to tell what Annalise had been up to from the amount of time she was gone.

"So, is Shawnnalise back on?" Stella asked in a teasing voice.

"They were off?" Camila asked in shock, looking back and forth between the two girls.

"That is the actual worst name I've ever heard," Annalise replied, and then her heart stopped as her phone buzzed in her hand. Without another word, she dashed into her bedroom.

"You owe me details!" Stella called after her.

Annalise didn't say anything as she shut the door and leaned against it for a moment. She sighed and let her book bag drop onto the floor, and then she bent down to untie her platform sneakers and took them off. Her phone buzzed again, and it made her insides heavy.

Honestly, she had enough guilt on her shoulders. Did she really have to add more to her plate by tapping that ass and running away? Heart in her throat, Annalise looked at the notifications.

The newest text was from the gaming club group chat. Patrick was asking when everyone was available to go to Bart. The nerves came down for a split second before reading the other text.

"Where are you?"

Annalise opened the text too, so she definitely couldn't just ignore him. She sent back some excuse about having an assignment due at midnight, and then she let the anxiety and guilt consume her for the rest of the night.

________

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @1-800-khalid-mendussy @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @poppyshawn @shawnsunflower @shawnvvmendes @yourdeflightfullyleft @havethetimeeofyourlifee @shawmndes @wronglanemendes

[dotthings]

spn 14.05 is another solid ep, and I’m pretty excited for both Sam and Dean’s invididual storylines this season as well as how their dynamics are evolving.

Breaking my commentaries on the ep out into separate posts. This post is Sam and Dean’s individual arcs with some notes about how the bunker crew links with that since I had a lot to say.

Sam

SPN has been telegraphing Sam as ops manager and a leader of hunters for a few seasons, mostly in S12, so this isn’t coming out of nowhere, but it is also a little surprising because it is defying the expected roles. Dean has been head of family and leader of TFW (which he named) for a really long time. But rather than “stealing” Dean’s storyline—Dean has his own meaty storyline going on—this is a flip in roles. Sam is now the lead manager and strategizer watching over everyone while there is Something Wrong With Dean (more on that in the Dean section).

I have been wanting to see this for a long time—Winchesters as teachers of hunters.

Sam worried about Dean was Sam not sleeping and not shaving. Sam getting Dean back is Sam shaves again but left a little stubble I noticed...and now he is sleeping but only about 3-4 hrs a night which is like the grief beard is gone but leaves some stubble behind. What’s going on in your head, Sam?

He seems grounded and focused and I’m getting no vibe here of Sam trying to hide in being busy, otoh not sleeping enough and losing himself in his new role are red flags. Sam seems to be thriving, but the lack of downtime or full sleeps, he’s compensating for something he felt was lacking before. A sense of purpose other than just killing monsters. A whole bunker of people relies on him. This aligns with Cas finding sense of purpose in being a father to Jack. Jack trying to figure out his own role. Dean is adrift (more on that in the Dean section). What’s Sam’s role outside of Dean’s shadow and little brother, just as we ask what is Dean’s role outside of watching over Sam.

The bunker people are like the cantina is Star Wars. I noticed spn casts and costumes and dresses them non-generically. They are distinct, if un-named and unknown to us. Uptick in incidental casual representarion. Like the cantina, you know every one of them has a good story to tell but we aren’t going to see it. They are background. Worldbuilding. There to give main characters a frame. The crowdedness, the lack of connection the audience feels—kinda part of the point. It’s there to reflect on our main characters. Sam as leader, Dean feeling out of step. Hunter community at work.

Sam leads them and he knows them and cares—remember he knows them and audience doesn’t (please try to remember that distinction)—but he isn’t one of them. Sam takes point in saving Maggie and feels responsible for watching over this rookie hunter. He’s not in the group hug reunion with Maggie. He watches over them. SPN is having Sam and Dean witness a warm supportive hunter community circle, while they build and expand their extended family, Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack all living under one roof even if some wander in and out, their connection with Jody and the Waywards, Mary (who is in and out) maybe AU Bobby...AU Charlie question mark...Rowena is possibly drawn into this as well, she is there in a pinch. But 4 steady bunker inhabitants.

The big warm circle that surrounds Maggie isn’t anything Sam and Dean had growing up...maybe SPN is showing them a possible future. Maybe telegraphing, maybe just a comment on what they’ve somewhat missed out on but are building for themselves, and the AU hunters will return home.

Sam is emerging amid all this into a role other than “little brother in distress” or “research guy.”

Dean

The annoyance Dean feels at the bunker overrun with strangers, the sense of being out of step, while Dean recovers from trauma—that’s all on purpose and it’s not here to diminish Dean or cut him out. Dean had drilled into him by John since the age of 4 that his only value was “watch out for Sammy” and then that expanded to “keep all my loved ones alive.” “You did it for me, for Jack, for family.” Or look at Dean’s devastation over losing Cas. It’s not just about Sam. Dean’s relationship with family is a mutli-armed thing. Dean doesn’t define himself looking after Cas the way he did with Sam but Dean’s primary role is still “protect the ones I love” and that encompasses Cas. Which is admirable but also what else is he? Just as Sam isn’t just little brother in peril research guy with demon blood. Who is Dean?

S14 is showing Dean’s trauma and showing us more of his geeky side. It’s explored how fear drives his actions at times. In this ep we see his out of stepness with the crowded bunker. Dean, without a whiff of restlessness or regret or resentment, accepts Sam’s new role. Dean still seems like head of family, emotionally. But Sam is managing a bunkerful of hunters and takes point to save Maggie. What role does Dean see for himself if “Sammy” is a capable, competent grown-ass adult with a skill for managing a whole team of hunters and has become a mentor to them? Dean has already mentored Sam and now the mentor is mentoring others. Which fits with Sam and Dean mentoring Cas who is now teaching Jack how to hunt.

The talk Dean has with the old man’s daughter, about the old man, yells with John parallels. The father consumed with his work who emotionally neglected his children. All the things we know of how John raised his kids, not just neglect but at the least emotional abuse. The horrors he drew his children into. Dean advising her to put it behind her, to not let the bad feelings and hurt define her and how he tries to do that “every day” inplies it’s not the least bit easy and it’s a work in progress. It’s not about forgiveness even. It’s an admission it’s not okay what happened but he’s also not willing to let it consume him. It doesn’t define him. Dean has come to terms with John as a not great father. He had his confrontation with Mary, he loves her and hates her and forgives her. Dean’s his own person, not consumed with pleasing his parents. It hurts but he’ll keep moving forward. He’s trying to figure out how not to drown in the post-Michael trauma—no getting over it but he’ll keep putting one foot in front of the other and be Dean as much as he can. Not avoiding or denying. It just is.

Dean’s post-Michael trauma isn’t healed but Dean seems to be moving towards some self-acceptance. He’s not threatened by Sam as leader he just isn’t sure what his role is while Sam is doing that. He’s so used to his job being watching over someone who is now on more even footing with him. Roles change. Characters evolve—as they certainly should on a show over a decade old.

As I expected, Michael Dean continues to be an A-plot. This time sneaking into a MOTW. So we have flashbacks and we have Dean being directly confronted in realtime with the dominoes Michael knocked over, his supermonsters.

That djinn saw something horrifying when it touched Dean. It was something that scared the beejesus out if a djinn who specializes in feeding off other people’s fears. So it’s something that scares the djinn, not just something Dean fears. WTF did the djinn see inside Dean?

Maybe my theory about sleeper Michael hiding in there isn’t wrong, or maybe it’s something even scarier than Michael.

So for Dean we have a slow burn self-acceptance and how he is dealing with his trauma, Dean coming to terms with the nature of his parents as parents, Dean trying to figure out how he fits in the crowded bunker, Dean’s role re-aligning as he and Sam move past their childhood roles of “Dean protect Sammy” as their primary mechanism, and Dean continuing to be faced with his nemesis, Michael, via fallout...his mirror as well as Michael represents some fears Dean has about the darker aspects of himself.

There’s a lot going on for both Sam and Dean and in turn the relationship is growing into a space where I’m regaining some of my feeling of connection with it that I lost. While placing them in context of being part of the wider family of TFW 2.0 and plonking a warm supportive hunter community under their noses for them to witness. Oh and Cas is with Jack in Sarasota, a beach community, after Dean’s talk last season about TFW retiring on a beach.

[fuckyeahevanrwood]

Evan Rachel Wood Turns Her Trauma Into Good. On ‘Westworld’ and in Life.

When Evan Rachel Wood needs a jolt of confidence, she puts on a certain playlist, a compendium of feminist anthems and feisty classics — “I Will Survive,” “These Boots Are Made for Walking,” Tina Turner, Pat Benatar, some head-whipping grunge and hip-hop. It was piping through her house here one chilly afternoon last month. Ms. Wood, the actress and musician, had just put herself through an emotional wringer: She testified before Congress, in unflinching terms, about being a survivor of sexual violence, then jetted to Los Angeles to perform songs by David Bowie, her musical idol, with his bandmates.

It was a cross-country head-snap. Now she was welding herself back together.

“My life is definitely going places I did not foresee,” she said, leaning over her kitchen counter, as Sia’s “Unstoppable” played in the background. “But I’m going with it. It doesn’t feel like a choice at this point. This is just what I need to do.”

Her trajectory is even more remarkable when you consider how much it overlaps, thematically, with the story line of Dolores, her character on the HBO series “Westworld.” On that sci-fi drama, set in a Western theme park where visitors can act out their most depraved fantasies with humanlike robot “hosts,” Dolores is an innocent and much-abused host who slowly awakens to the darkness of what has befallen her, and then fights her way out.

A critical darling when it aired in 2016, “Westworld” had the most-watched debut season of any HBO series, and anticipation for its new season, which begins April 22, is high. In a starry ensemble that included Anthony Hopkins, Ed Harris and Jeffrey Wright, it was the women, like Ms. Wood and Thandie Newton, as a host madam who’s newly conscious of her reality, that were riveting, in part for how they endured — and inflicted — violence.

The show, Ms. Wood said, “completely transformed my entire life,” not because it catapulted her career — although it did — but because playing Dolores forced her to drill into her own struggles. “Her journey mirrored so much of what I had been through and what I was going through,” she said. “It gave me a strength that I did not know I had.”

For Lisa Joy and Jonathan Nolan, the married co-creators of “Westworld,” Ms. Wood was first an exceedingly “protean” actor, as Mr. Nolan said in a joint phone interview. Ms. Wood, 30, has been in front of the camera since childhood, graduating from volatile adolescents in movies like “Thirteen” to a vampire queen on “True Blood.” They cast her knowing she could pull off the lightning shifts that Dolores makes in Season 2, which finds her exacting sweet revenge even as she weighs its costs.

“With Evan’s character, I wanted to explore a hero who has flaws and had a history that was trauma and sadness, but who could overcome that,” said Ms. Joy, a writer, producer and director of the series with her husband. “To me, that’s an inspiring story, and a story that can teach. And Evan, because she is so strong and she is that person, was able to unleash even more of that strength than I imagined. Even the aspects of her performance where she’s vulnerable, or when she makes a mistake, you’re internalizing that even heroes falter. It’s the kind of hero I wish I had had growing up.”

Ms. Wood did not necessarily feel heroic when she traveled to Washington — her second time there, after the 2017 Women’s March — to testify before a House judiciary committee in February. “I shook for days” beforehand, she said. She feared she would be judged for what happened to her.

“I couldn’t even believe I was about to say these words aloud, that I probably have only said out loud to three people.”

That somebody with her background — “I’ve had practice baring my soul in intense, surreal situations; it’s like what I do for a living” — was still terrified made her even more determined to go, to represent those who couldn’t. She was invited to appear by Amanda Nguyen, the founder of Rise, an advocacy organization for rape survivors. They were endorsing the Survivor’s Bill of Rights, 2016 legislation which amended the federal criminal code to give survivors of sexual assault the right to a free medical exam and to have rape kits be preserved for as long as 20 years, among other changes. (The hearing examined the law; its supporters are hoping to get a version passed in each state, because most rape cases are tried on the state level.)

Ms. Wood called herself a survivor of domestic violence and sexual assault, and described being raped twice, about a decade ago, first by an abusive partner, then by a man in the storage closet of a bar. “Being abused and raped previously made it easier for me to raped again, not the other way around,” she said. She has aligned herself with these causes before, but never in such personal terms.

She spoke of suffering from “depression, addiction, agoraphobia, night terrors” and attempting suicide; eventually, she was given a diagnosis of long-term PTSD. The assaults left her with “a mental scar that I feel, every day,” she said. She delivered her testimony in a gripping voice and broke down in tears afterward.

Around her neck, in a locket on a long silver chain, she carried a picture of her character, Dolores.

She was still wearing it a week or so later, at her home in Nashville. “Whenever I had a moment of self-doubt, I remembered — this is a part of me,” she said, as her cat, a protective Devon Rex named Smokey, curled up beside us on the couch.

She moved to Nashville a few years ago, seeking a quieter place to raise her son, now 4½ years old, she had with her ex-husband, the actor Jamie Bell. Save for an old friend turned writing partner, she knew few people there, and gets around without much fanfare, helped by a pair of tortoiseshell glasses and a choppy bob. (Her long “Westworld” hair is a wig.)

Would she have been able to testify without the show?

“I hadn’t even cried about my experiences until after ‘Westworld,’” she said. Her defense mechanism was to go numb and power through. “And I didn’t even realize that until I’d done ‘Westworld.’”

When she finally gave herself permission to cry, “it was like the floodgates opened,” she added. “It just felt like an exorcism; it was so painful but so healing.”

Revealing her ordeal, she felt freer, she said, comparing it to coming out as bisexual in 2011. “Everyone was like, ‘Don’t do it!’” she mock-yelled. “And I was like, I have to, it’s me, and it’s unhealthy if I live in a way that’s not authentic.”

Ms. Wood’s testimony, coupled with the personal revelations and shifts of the #MeToo movement, made a difference, said Ms. Nguyen, who helped draft the original bill. “Storytelling is so important in convincing people about policy change,” she said. “I know that that hearing moved the needle for progress.”

Twenty-four hours later, Ms. Wood was in Los Angeles, about to perform at a touring Bowie tribute. She has a lightning bolt tattoo, from Bowie’s “Aladdin Sane” album cover, and songs like “Rock ’n’ Roll Suicide” were her beacon. “I used to just put that on when I was at my lowest points and just wait for him to scream, ‘You’re not alone!’ And that would get me through another night,” she said.

When she opened the lyric page for that song, onstage at the Wiltern in Los Angeles, her hand trembled. The words looked like symbols — “like I couldn’t even read,” she said. “Everything went white. And I thought, ‘Oh boy. Breathe, girl, breathe.’” In videos from the show, you can see her hesitate and back off, then regain her momentum. She finished the number with shattering intensity.

“Evan is a powerhouse,” said her friend Linda Perry (4 Non Blondes, Pink’s “Get the Party Started”), the vocalist, songwriter and producer, who recommended her for the Bowie gig. “What I like about her is, she’s not afraid to be vulnerable, and that to me is an extremely powerful position to be in. She stands right there with her feet on the ground and her arms open, saying, This is who I am, this is how I’m going to be, and this is how I’m going to walk through life. Take it or leave it.”

In Ms. Wood’s telling, that position is hard won. The daughter of two actors from Raleigh, N.C., where her father runs a community theater, she began performing early, and moved to Los Angeles with her mother, an acting coach, after her parents split when she was 9. A steady career followed, but looking back, she said: “I didn’t feel like I had proper training for the world. I lived my whole life asking, ‘What do you want me to do and who do you want me to be?’ I was so insecure and didn’t feel worthy of much.” As a teenager, she began a much-ogled relationship with Marilyn Manson, the older goth rocker, to whom she was briefly engaged.

Only later in her 20s, she said, and especially after she became a mother, did she find her voice. The 2016 election also impelled her to act, to set an example for her son.

In between Seasons 1 and 2 of “Westworld,” Ms. Wood filmed an indie drama, “Allure,” out now, in which she plays the gaslighting abuser of a teenage girl. It was not fun to play, she said, but a painful story she felt needed to be told. “If you’re going to be famous, for me it has to mean something, or be used for something, because otherwise it just freaks me out,” she said.

The playlist we’d been listening to all day — her soundtrack for the revolution — is called “Invincible,” she said. In a flannel shirt, dark jeans and cowboy boots embossed with stars, she was unguarded and casual, peppering the conversation with “Dude!” and the click, every now and then, of a fidget cube, to channel her energy. Her house is cozy but feels half-lived in — she’s still in Los Angeles often. “Westworld” shoots in the Utah desert; to lighten the mood on set, she and her co-star James Marsden, as a “host” gunfighter, run their lines as Veronica Corningstone and Ron Burgundy, from “Anchorman.” (She puts on her coaching voice; he’s dense. It works.)

But Dolores’s transformation, in Season 2, left Ms. Wood unnerved.

“I’ve worked for a very long time to not be angry and vengeful,” she said, “so it was hard to take pleasure in that, even though I knew that the character had definitely earned it.”

Ms. Wood’s mission is always to turn her trauma into some other force. Before she went to Congress, she had her aura read at a Nashville shop. It told her some of her energy was blocked, that she needed to get something out. Now, a week afterward, we went back, to see if anything had changed.

She was still glowing lavender — “wonderful storytellers, writers and artists,” the description said. “They have the talent to visualize and describe magical, mystical worlds.” But where before her emotional chart looked like a jagged mountain range, now it was flat, calm. “Speaking your truth!” she said.

Her hope was that — especially post #MeToo — “Westworld” would do for others what Dolores did for her: help them to feel powerful, and be heard.

“Everything you want is on the other side of fear,” she said.

[unluckyadept]

Character Journal Entry: Felix

{Thursday, November 16th, TUMBLR 2017}

I wonder if I should leave early next week, or wait until after the others have celebrated the harvest. I am considering starting the journey on Tuesday.

It will be interesting to return to Prox so “soon”. I still have a great deal of work I need to deal with once I get there. There is the issue of property, and I should honestly start fulfilling my role as Warrior. I have lived too long living for myself, rather than for the community…

I am not entirely sure what my duties will entail, or how I will carry them out. I hope to work with the other candidates: I was the only one who became fully recognized, but I feel several of the others showed very great promise. It would be good to have people I can work with.

I can deal with working with the community. It will not necessarily be pleasant, at first; enforcing my authority will involve the use of force in dominance, which is not something I feel all that comfortable with. I do not wish to go overboard—I am too powerful. I wish…

At times I do wish that I were not quite THIS powerful. It means that I have to take even greater care in maintaining a stoic demeanor, and enforcing pacifistic tendencies in the face of rising anger. But that is not how I came to learn to be, as a Proxan, and as a traveling companion.

Proxans must be mindful of their place, of their rank, but they also speak openly. They express their thoughts and desires in an appropriate setting, but that setting is different than that of Angara, or any of the other Southern lands. Except, save, for Champa. Perhaps that is why Briggs and I had an understanding and were eventually able to get along?

And I was always honest about my thoughts and feelings to Sheba, even when I could not speak. There was not exactly much of a choice, when it comes to Mind Read.

-=-=-=-=-=-

[Here he hesitates, looking down at the page for a moment before he continues.]

-=-=-=-=-=-

She helped me to be honest with myself, too. It is one thing to be polite, and thus deceive others… but to deny feelings entirely is damaging to the mind and soul. It leads to a kind of vicious anguish, like a coiling serpent devouring itself. To hate oneself for feeling anger, to scorn oneself for feeling fear…

-=-=-=-=-=-

[He stops again, face becoming a bit flush. He continues on a bit more fervently, trying to keep his thoughts on track.]

-=-=-=-=-=-

I have been fortunate enough that most of the time as of late, my life has been calm and without provocation. The hatred that turned both outward and inward has lessened significantly; I have no cause for great frustration.

The other night was an exception, and my temper briefly got the better of me to the point of overcoming reason. I was almost incited into rage, but caught myself in time to prevent it. It was shameful, and I burned inside at forcing myself to appear to submit: the influence of Mars, perhaps?

I’ll be honest. There are times where I just wish to use tremendous power to devastate, to destroy. And it has been proven to me that I can even now be incited into rage…

I gave into the vice of being cruel out of spite more than actual anger only a few months ago, after all.

I put Kadi in his place, once and (hopefully) for all.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Kadi: -Turns to face the Beastmaster, baring his teeth and holding sword at the ready- {You started this, and I will not let you slink off!}

Beastmaster: -Defends against it with a serrated bracer- {Are you serious? He just told you to $#%^ off.}

Kadi: -Flares in anger- {Shut up, you lazy dog! You never even bothered for full Soldier tier!}

[The dog snarls and goes to bite Kadi’s leg, but is stopped by the armor there. This does earn a reaction from Kadi, who uses Psynergy on him.

This was met by a harsh close-combat, barefisted maneuver from the Beastmaster that would down a lesser man if he weren’t wearing armor—but could only serve to knock him off balance.

Before Kadi could take advantage of his opponent having his back to him, though—]

Felix: {ENOUGH.}

[Felix used HALT!]

Kadi: —?!?!!

Felix: -Stepping down off of his position in the tiered seating- {Despite being often used as an excuse for a good fight, that’s not what the competition is for.} -To Kadi- {It was entertaining to see you get tackled and put into a headlock because your guard was down from not expecting an unannounced opponent—}

Kadi: -GRRRRR— -

Felix: {But frankly, Beastmaster, this is a waste of my time. There’s plenty a chance for that sort of thing outside of the high festival.}

Beastmaster: {Oh, you’re such a stick in the mud!}

Felix: {That was an awful pun, to the point where my friends would be proud of you.}

Kadi: {I can take him on!}

Felix: {That’s not the point.}

[Felix used MOVE!]

[The Beastmaster and his dog were pushed to the side, Felix coming forward into the crowd. His mask was actually off right now—clearly to better allow visibility for an incoming fight.]

Felix: {First of all, you insulted a Grand Master.}

Kadi: —

Felix: {I don’t care. I know that the criticism and bold remarks are very common, but you, Kadi—}

Felix: {Your arrogance has always been your downfall, you know that?}

[Kadi was released from the hold, and he held his sword at the ready, facing Felix.]

Kadi: {I’ve been the strongest fighter in Prox for years! Everyone knows it, even you! You never even finished your soldier training. When you left here, you couldn’t even handle a sword like a true Warrior!}

Felix: {Of course I couldn’t, you idiot. I was fourteen, and hadn’t been training for that long.}   : |

Felix: {Are you really going to make this about the past? Because I promise you, it won’t end well.}

Kadi: {Nooooooo, how could I possibly question a Warrior.}

Felix: {Your sarcasm is not appreciated. If you really want to be a Warrior, and think you deserve the rank, then you shouldn’t be afraid to voice why you’re so antagonistic to me.}

Kadi: {What, and have you use words against me? Spare me your fancy prose! You haven’t been here for YEARS! No one in the community has seen you properly fight!}

Felix: {I matched you before, and I will overpower you now.}

Kadi: {SHOW ME!}

[Before he could even rush at him, Felix almost literally WHIPPED out his sword with one hand—a feat which required a great deal of strength and was NOT very easy—unleashing a shockwave of Venus Psynergy at the same time.]

[Felix used IRON!]

[A shimmering field of that same energy prevented it from harming the others caught in the backlash, though it did get everyone pushed back.]

[The use of a Djinn had weakened him, and Kadi could tell. He rushed at him—]

[Kadi used HEAT FLASH!]

[Their swords clashed, but the Mars Psynergy was not so easily blocked. Only a very slight wincing noise betrayed the discomfort, and Felix held fast.]

Kadi: {You haven’t changed! Fight me, you—}

[Felix used ODYSSEY!]

[He pushed Kadi back, starting to overpower him. This forced the Proxan to take a step back to regain his balance.]

[Kadi used ROLLING FLAME!]

[There was a searing eruption of fire that consumed Felix, and it was quite painful indeed—despite being Venus aligned (and thus weakest to Jupiter), Felix didn’t actually resist Mars energy very well. The heritage he got from his mother made him more receptive to it, and it didn’t pass him over the way it would another Adept.]

[Felix used TREMOR!]

[Traditionally, he would have been expected to use something from the Quake series—that sort of thing dealt additional energy-based damage, besides the effects you would normally associate with that natural disaster. 

But that would cost him energy, and he didn’t care to waste it. He didn’t need it for that, anyway—just enough to knock Kadi off balance.

Which is exactly what it did, and he leaped off one of the jutting stones, bearing his sword down in the air.]

[Felix’s SOL BLADE let out a howl!]

[There was a roaring sound, a scree as if from a shrieking dragon—]

[MEGIDDO!]

[The air seemed to become consumed by fire, with a small star much like the very sun itself hurtling out of the heavens down onto him, swept forward by the might of the sword.

Kadi had been pinned to the ground, and brought up his own sword (and braced it with both hands) to avoid being struck, but the Unleash still went RIGHT through him—more than knocking the wind out of him, that was for sure!

Felix took his sword in his left hand and made a sweeping backhand motion with his right—

The ground beneath them slid back and upward as he tossed Kadi into the air, and then held him there (with Lift), all with a bit of Psynergy.]

Felix: {Oh, you’re strong, alright, Kadi. I’ll grant you that.}

Felix: {That burn is going to smart… but not for long, because I have healing Psynergy.}

Felix: {I’d say… you’d done pretty good! In comparison to what a Fori can offer.}

Felix: {Trust me, I’ve fought some, and it’s harder than the likes of you would ever give credit for.}

[Felix used POUND!]

[Kadi was slammed back down onto the ground.]

Felix: {I know exactly what you think of me, assuming you still haven’t changed.}

Felix: {You made that clear the first time we really went at it. Do you remember that?}

[Felix used POUND!]

[Slammed down by that large Psynergy hand, mashing him into the earth.]

Felix: {You dared to make fun of me, for having the heart to grieve for all that I lost.}

[His eyes suddenly became red with energy from Mars, and his aura fumed accordingly, creating an ominous combination that much resembled an active volcano.]

Felix: {You think me weak for having this heart, for valuing the life of others, for wanting a chance to go home.}

[Felix used POTENT CURE!]

[The weariness left him, and it was as if he had never been hit at all.]

Felix: {And THAT, Kadi, is why you will FAIL, why I will NEVER choose you!}

[He swept his hand back in an arcing motion, causing his enemy to skid in the ground. Kadi was more than a little beat, but Felix wasn’t done with him yet—and he was casting Cure on HIM as well, to make sure he didn’t pass out during part of it.]

Felix: {If everyone had valued one another a little more, and the Vale Elders had listened, Saturos and Mendari would still be alive right now!}

Felix: {If Karst and Agatio hadn’t tried to betray me and dispose of me, I would have helped them climb the Lighthouse! THEY WOULD BE ALIVE, TOO!}

Felix: {You question my strength, because I came to the path of a Warrior without the traditional method of choosing a Soldier with bite? Fine. That’s reasonable.}

Felix: {You haven’t seen the pure TORTURE in suffering that I was forced to go through, forced to battle, even unto my life. You couldn’t even breach the doors to the Lighthouse, because that was beyond any of you.}

Felix: {So of course you have no idea how perilous it is inside.}

Felix: {So if you don’t know, and believed I had gone all the way out and all the way in because of the strength of Karst, Agatio, Saturos, and Mendari—and didn’t know how actually HARD it was to climb the Lighthouse—}

Felix: {Of course you would question whether I’d even had to do any fighting at all. While you, the only person you ever seem to think about, had been left behind here for six years, forced to endure an increasingly hostile wilderness and terribly harsh winter, with nothing but your own strength and Puelle’s prudence to guide you.}

[Felix used HALT!]

Felix: {Well, Soldier, you shall doubt no more, for I am back, and I can easily prove it.}

[He walked closer, his sword lowered.]

Felix: {I am going to be guiding you now, and you WILL /obey/ my authority. And if you challenge me needlessly again, you could get yourself killed.}

[He wasn’t exactly bluffing, but it wasn’t meant as a threat, either—just a statement of fact. High-powered fights were too easy to get out of hand, especially if one of the parties refused to back down, forcing things well beyond what the other had intended.]

Felix: {If you are to have a prayer for the dragons to carry to the spirits without turning up their noses at, then you will change who you are, how you choose to be. Because the “you” that is now will never be chosen. Not by others, and not by me.}

Felix: {I can take you on with or without Djinn, without using battle Psynergy—which I only used once here each, anyway—with one of those being to protect everyone else from what I can do.}

Felix: {I have slain dragons that were strong and true—you are but a dragon-son, Soldier, so not even that.}

Felix: {I am Lord Felix of the Venus Clan—Warrior of Prox, Dragon Slayer!}

-=-=-=-=-=-

[He sighs, now more than sufficiently distracted. He seems distant.]

-=-=-=-=-=-

Perhaps I shall have need to expend myself in spars with monsters in the Mars Lighthouse on a regular basis, so that I may freely use my Psynergy without fear of excessive damage. I am not sure how that may tie in to the training and fitness exercises I should be leading amongst the Fighters and Soldiers.

-=-=-=-=-=-

[He heaves a sigh again, slipping a his fingers into his hair as he continued.]

-=-=-=-=-=-

Admittedly, that is not the main thing on my mind right this moment. Despite trying to make it be so.

—Felix

[fj-stories]

Valkhara

There are very few dragons in the dictionary, any dictionary, even the ones written in Draconic. In the Old Draconic Lexicon (Standard Edition) there is only one dragon. She is referenced in the entry for “valkimlischstutlimkeit,” a word that roughly means “portentous” in the language of the Vena but which in Old Draconic literally translates “one who is like Valkhara.” Even here, Valkhara is buried deep in etymology because she is an old dragon, and even Old Draconic had a long time to evolve after she came into the fullness of her power.

Language itself seemed to flow around Valkhara while she stood before Princess Caitlyn’s throne in the courts of Isla Virgo. She wasn’t always the bearer of bad news, but it was, as her word in the Old Draconic Lexicon implied, an event when she deigned to leave her tower and her gardens and engage in what she privately called the “frippery of court.” Most courtiers only saw her make an appearance once or twice in their entire lives. While the dragon was a great friend of Princess Caitlyn and Dyeus, Valkhara much preferred to enjoy their company conversing in private, taking long walks in the flowering labyrinths or ensconced in her library surrounded by leather-bound books and old maps of Pandemonium and instruments for tracking the movements of the starry seas.

An appearance in court meant that Valkhara had news that could not wait. Since she mainly concerned herself with cycles that took decades or even centuries to unwind, a discovery that could not wait a few days to be shared in private and then announced in a suitably organized and official manner was news indeed. In the beautifully regimented court of the Vena, news that did not fit into the natural order of things was generally very bad news.

And so, even though it took only a minute or two for Valkhara to greet the princess, it seemed that aeons passed while the court waited. The “oh shit” feeling in the core of every courtier’s stomach sprouted, put down roots, went to seed, and produced three generations of offspring in the time it took her to speak.

“Highness,” she said and bowed her head to such a small degree courtiers would debate about whether or not she actually bowed for fifty years—though, none of this wondering would happen within earshot of Princess Caitlyn because she was bored of the Great Question of the Bow immediately.

“Auntie,” she cried and flew down from her throne and tackled the venerable gold dragon, wrapping her arms around Valkhara’s neck.

The tittering of court echoed off the gilded floors and alabaster walls and mile-high diamond windows. Auntie? Who would have thought? They say the dragon was her tutor once, but “auntie?” I wonder what I would have to do to warrant such familial affection. Perhaps, the princess is also a dragon?

Even the most stately dignitary would have been able to justify rolling her eyes at this gossip, but Valkhara merely flicked her eyes to the left and right, and Caitlyn got the message. Regaining her dignity and poise, she straightened her tiara and clapped her hands.

“There will be tea for my friend,” she said.

“Actually,” Valkhara said in Old Draconic. The word shook the windows and fell with gravity sufficient to completely silence the court. “I need to speak to your father.”

This she said in the old language because there were few without scales who bothered to learn the language of the dragons, and those few with reason to know the old tongue were close enough to the throne to know the true order of things.

Caitlyn was the true ruler of Isla Virgo, but her father Dyeus delighted in managing the minute details required to keep the beauty and elegance of the realm delicious for all, and these tasks—which would have been pure drudgery for Caitlyn—he performed in private while she joyfully performed the public work of court diplomacy, work which would have filled him with annoyance.

It was an arrangement that pleased the two of them, but word of it would have greatly scandalized the courtiers who preferred to believe that the culture and refinement they all enjoyed came to them from the Tree of Knowledge as effortlessly as breathing.

Caitlyn, however, spoke Old Draconic flawlessly and asked in the ancient tongue, “Is it very bad?”

“Rocks fall,” Valkhara answered.

Caitlyn looked grim. There was no word in Old Draconic for planet because Old Draconic was older than planets. Every time something in the sky moved, Auntie was reduced to the ridiculous “rocks fall.”

“Really, auntie,” Caitlyn said in Slightly Less Old Draconic, “We need to get you a new dictionary.”

“I am a walking encyclopedia, my dear,” Valkhara said, and Caitlyn smiled. Humility was not one of her family’s values.

Caitlyn clapped her hands again.

“Tea for all,” she said, returning once more to the language of the Vena, “Except for my friend and me. We visit Dyeus.”

Dyeus was in his inner courts counting. He counted most things most days, but today he was counting the couples in Isla Virgo. It was finicky business this counting, for it was difficult to say what exactly counted as a couple. Was it better to count a closed triad as a single couple or two couples or three? Three technically was the most accurate counting since three distinct relationships existed in a closed triad, but it threw his accounting all off because one couple implied two people. With three couples, one would assume six people, but in a triad there were half as many, which made it very difficult to know exactly how many new Leaf Born to order for those who lacked affection.

“How may these align?” he wondered, “And need I direct simply ones with missing partners into contact with each other or order new?”

He mused on this question and how he might order his books when Valkhara lumbered into his inner chamber with Caitlyn in tow and then stopped and stared. And stared. And stared.

“Greetings, dragon,” Dyeus said.

Most dragons would have been insulted by being called “dragon,” but Valkhara was touched by the gesture, believing (rightly) that this term of address coming from Dyeus was meant to imply she represented all that was civilized, ordered, and counted in dragon-kind.

“I would invite you to sit,” he said, gesturing to the cushions that luxuriated at precise angles to his throne so that the one who reclined had a pleasing view of both himself and the rose garden through the diamond walls that wrapped in a perfect arc behind him, “But I know you prefer to stand.”

“You may prefer to stand, too, when I have delivered my message, my friend,” Valkhara said.

This was what he was afraid of.

“Very well,” Dyeus said. “Speak.”

“I have been following the movements of that star,” she said. “The one that wanders.”

The star in question was not a star exactly, and it was not usually in Valkhara’s nature to be imprecise, but Dyeus knew she refused to speak the name aloud—though it sounded almost noble in Old Draconic—because the pun displeased her. There were many planets in the skies of Pandemonium, so technically there were many wandering stars, but he knew when she spoke of “the wandering star” she meant one wandering star in particular.

Dyeus sat up a little straighter. He had a particular fondness for this star.

“I have been calculating that one’s movements,” Valkhara said.

“Just so,” Dyeus said with surprise. “And what have you learned?”

“Much of its cycle,” she said.

“You are mistaken,” Dyeus said. “That one has no cycle.”

He counted all things, but even he didn’t count the movements of this star. Everyone in Isla Virgo, especially one as attentive to the movements of the stars as Valkhara, knew the motion of the star was entirely erratic, though, only he knew why. This common knowledge, apparently, was not enough to keep her from trying to see order in its movements.

“You are mistaken, highness,” she said. “Its cycle repeats every 6.7225 million years. It has completed nearly three complete cycles in my lifetime. I have counted two and a half of them.”

Few things shocked Dyeus, but this revelation left him momentarily speechless. There was a very good reason for the chaotic nature of that one’s movements, but he could not doubt that if Valkhara said she learned the cycle of the wanderer, she was old, irascible, and thorough enough to find a true pattern even in this.

“Very well,” he said. “I congratulate you on your great discovery. We will declare a holiday.”

“You may wish to wait,” Valkhara said. “The discovery of that ones orbit is not the reason I bring you news in this way. My news is of its sudden true erratic movement.”

“You have my sympathies for the sudden loss of a theory so long in the making, but I suspect it may be the wandering star truly is erratic.”

“Perhaps,” she said, “I will keep counting. In the meantime, I have come to tell you of an irregularity that—you see, it is not generally erratic in this direction.”

“Where is this direction exactly?”

“The rose garden behind you in approximately fifteen seconds.”

Dyeus stood and turned to look behind him. A roaring like the sound of a thousand bass guitars ricocheted off the curved diamond windows and alabaster walls and labyrinths and precisely trimmed rose bushes as a great gray sphere plummeted toward the rose garden, picking up speed as it went until it suddenly stopped 8.253 feet above the ground. Through the windshield, two sets of arms were just visible, flailing mad waved greetings.

“Greetings, Twins,” Dyeus said.

Mara Colleen Banks thinks that author bios are usually pretentious and off-putting, but her student loans compel her to mention that she has an MFA in fiction whenever possible.

When she isn’t writing stories about naive vampires and Viking detectives, her current obsessions are: Growing the world’s most delicious sleepy-time herbal tea blend, asking her Tarot cards when the sun will come out in Portland, Oregon, and visiting every river in the Pacific Northwest.

[whillsofstars]

Chapter 12

Hi tumblr friends! I am so sorry it’s been a while since my last chapter update, but I so appreciate those of you who have hung in there for me. Work has been crazy busy and I haven’t had much time to write. Luckily for you though, I’ve been saving a few chapters that I plan on sharing over the next few days. Also, I’m so thrilled to announce that I’ve finished the first third of this FanFic, which will conclude at Chapter 14. (yay!) I cannot wait to start writing the next third. 

Enjoy!

KYLO REN-----------------------------------------------

Kylo couldn’t breathe.

Try as hard as he might, his lungs refused to accept the precious, life-giving oxygen they so desperately needed. The pain sent tears to his eyes, but still no breath would come.

It wasn’t until he heard a swoosh as the door to Hux’s chamber opened that he was able to break free of the terror that clutched him and take a quick, desperate gulp of air.

His head snapped to see who had just joined him, and was flustered to find that it was Armitage himself stepping over the threshold.

“Ren!” he snapped. “What in the blazes are you doing in my private chambers,” he hissed, his voice filled with venom.

Hux stopped halfway between the opening and where Kylo sat at his desk. The emotions coming off Hux were like a punch to the face: fury, disdain, hatred. But another emotion lingered there too. It appeared as though Hux was genuinely fine with Kylo’s intrusion. Kylo wondered why.

Regaining his composure, Kylo moved to stand. He would not let Hux believe that he could be intimidated.

“Where is Kasari Ren?” Kylo questioned low and threatening. He was actually quite interested in Hux’s answer. She was supposed to contact him on their comlink should anyone approach. Come to think of it, why hadn’t Jaster Ren said anything? Hux was scheduled to be in his meeting for another hour.

Hux gave a small prideful chuckle at Kylo’s question, “You’ll soon find out, I assume - but not yet.”

What the kriff is that supposed to mean? Fine, Kylo thought, if Hux is going to play games, I can go along with it.

Moving off the subject, Kylo held the Sith text out before him. “Interested in learning about the Force General?” he said tauntingly. “Honestly, if I were you, I would put your time into studies more useful to someone lacking in these particular talents.”

Anger briefly flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced with contempt.

“Ah, that,” Hux said evenly in his snobbish Core World accent. “Now that does have a great deal of value to me...,” he said pausing as wicked smirk began to settling across his lips, “...and to you, Ren.”

To me, huh?, Kylo thought.

“What is it you’re up to Hux?” he demanded threateningly, though Kylo had a dreadful feeling that he already knew. When Hux continued to say nothing, being content chuckling to himself, Kylo lost his patience. “Out with it Hux!” he roared.

“Save your wrath for someone else Ren. You do not scare me - not anymore,” he added.

Kylo called upon the Force and threw Hux into the nearest wall, knocking the wind from his lungs. A second later, Kylo was on Hux, his left hand firmly encased around Hux’s throat.

“What are you doing with the Sith text, Hux?” he growled through gritted teeth. “Answer me!”

Before Hux could respond, the unmistakable hiss of a lightsaber igniting filled the room.

“Let him go, Master.”

Kylo snapped his head to where the voice originated and was taken aback to find Jaster Ren occupying the space by the doorway. The light from his saber cast a soft crimson glow to Hux’s quarters.

Rage flooded through Kylo as understanding began sinking in: Jaster had betrayed him. His knight, a Knight of Ren, had aligned himself with his foe. This was intolerable. How dare a knight turn on his master.

Kylo kept his hand firmly drawn over Hux’s throat, daring Jaster Ren to do anything about it. “How long have you been serving Hux, Jaster?” he said, eyes like daggers.

Jaster cocked his helmet-enclosed head to the side, his lightsaber still lit and casually held ready to attack. “Perhaps the better question is how could you betray our Supreme Leader Snoke?”

Kylo froze, his hand letting up on Hux’s throat ever so slightly. What did he just say?

Seeing Kylo’s surprise, it was Hux who was next to speak.

“Oh please, Ren,” he said mockingly, though the sound come from his lips was strained. “How simple are you?” He reached to move Kylo’s grip on his throat. Sensing the dangerous predicament in which he now found himself, Kylo compiled and relinquished his hold over Hux.

Hux took a step back and took in greedy gulps of air while gingerly massaging his neck, small bruises already starting to form, before continuing, “In your treacherous moment alongside that scavenger bitch, did you forget about our security cameras? Perhaps you thought they were destroyed after the Supremacy was attacked by the Resistance Star Cruiser.”

While Kylo’s body remained perfectly still, his mind was racing almost as fast as light speed. They had known this whole time. He had been played and he was now caught in their trap.

Kriff. This was worse than waking up to find his uncle ready to murder him.

Adrenaline was coursing through him and Kylo knew of only one way out of this: if he managed to kill both Hux and Jaster, he could probably resume his role as Supreme Leader.

But how many more know about this? A voice whispered in his thoughts.

“Ren,” Hux spat, pulling Kylo out of his thoughts. “Your reign ends now. You will be taken under arrest and tried as a traitor to the First Order for conspiring with the Resistance, and will be held responsible for the murder of our beloved Supreme Leader Snoke.”

To hell they would arrest me, he thought.

Kylo made a slight motion towards the door when Jaster positioned himself directly in his path. “I don’t think so Kylo,” he said with the clear indication of a threat. Jaster lifted his free hand containing a comlink. “Send them in,” he commanded and within seconds, Hux’s relatively small quarters filled with three praetorian guards.

What was he going to do? He was trapped.

As he sized up his opponents, he became less sure of his chances of getting away unscathed. Should he give up and admit defeat? Not yet.

He had questions that needed answering before that happened.

He turned once again to face Hux, giving him a hard stare into his steely eyes. He hated how smug Hux looked. One day if he ever got the chance, he would make him pay. For Rey, for this, for making his life difficult from the moment he First Order. He would pay.

Feigning defeat, Kylo let out a deep breath and addressed Hux, “Before you take me, will you at least tell me what you’re doing with that Sith text?”

A wicked grin overtook his features as he took a step forward closer to Kylo, “I suppose there’s no point in secrecy any longer is there, Jaster?”

Jaster kept his defensive stance, continuing to halt any attempt Kylo made to leave.

“I’m actually quite surprised that you hadn’t wondered about it sooner. You see,” he said pensively, “you weren’t the only one Snoke spoke to about the Force and its secrets.” He took another step closer. “As it turns out, Darth Plagueis wasn’t the only one who could cheat death, and that text offers some very fascinating revelations.”

Now Hux was within mere feet from where Kylo stood, surrounded by praetorians ready to attack.

Hux brought himself closer still and lowered his voice so it was only Kylo who could hear his words. “And now, I’ll share my secret,” he paused before continuing, “Supreme Leader Snoke lives on. You failed, Ren. And now you will lose everything.”

Hux stepped back and addressed the praetorians. “Seize him. Dead or alive, it doesn’t matter.”

At once the whole room sprang into action.

Kylo called upon the Force and sent the praetorians and Hux flying across the room, smashing them into the wall hard enough to dent their armor. But this was only a small victory that wasn’t meant to last. Jaster Ren was on him almost immediately, lightsaber ignited and ready to kill. His attacks were precise and deadly.

Kylo called upon his own saber unleashing the fiery, crackling blade with a hiss just in time to counter Jaster, locking their blades overhead.

He took advantage of their proximity and dealt a hard kick to Jaster’s unprotected abdomen. He heard the unsettling crack of bones shattering. With Jaster lying on the ground heaving in pain, Kylo took off out of Hux’s quarters. He had to hurry though. Jaster was a Knight of Ren and it wouldn’t take more than a few moments before Jaster collected himself and moved to pursue him.

He dashed out the door into the corridor hoping to find little opposition, but things would not be so easy.

Two more praetorians waited at the ready, blocking either side of the hall. The one at his right side stood at attention, but it was the one on his left that caught his breath. This praetorian was much larger than his counterpart, with broader shoulders and a muscular build. But outside of his bulking frame, Kylo was fixed upon the blade he held tightly in one hand, and how close it was resting beside Kasari’s neck, who was restrained by the guard’s remaining arm.

Relief coursed through Kylo with the realization that Kasari hadn’t betrayed him, but fear was present too. He wasn’t about to lose one of his Knights, and if he was going to free her, Kylo had to think fast because the praetorian behind him made his advance.

Kylo dodged his thrust, but just barely. The effort it took threw him off balance, and the praetorian dealt a blow to his side, sending him smashing into the wall.

Despite the pain spreading from his back, Kylo was able to focus his strength and use the wall as leverage to land a strong front kick square into the praetorian’s chest sending him backwards into the opposite wall. Before he could recover, Kylo used the Force to hold him back as he reached for the lightsaber at his hip. The praetorian didn’t stand a chance, and after one swing fell to the glassy black floors motionless.

Kylo’s eyes darted to the larger praetorian holding Kasari. He needed her. He needed an ally that could help him escape the Finalizer. She was a good fighter and, from the looks of it, still loyal to him, unless no one told her that he killed Snoke. Would she continue to serve him if she knew the truth?

He didn’t have the time to find out, for Jaster Ren and the other praetorians made their way into the corridor. Any hope that Kylo had about freeing Kasari faded. He could take on a few praetorians at once, but three of them plus a knight of Ren made things all the more difficult. He stole one final glance at Kasari and the thought of what he was about to do pained him.

Kylo took off down the corridor leaving Kasari, Jaster, and the praetorians in his wake.

The Finalizer now buzzed with activity, as the alert of his treason was made public over the intercom. More than once, Kylo needed to take on a squad of Stormtroopers who happened to be patrolling in the hallway as he ran by. He couldn’t take any chances and risk them alerting the rest of the ship of his location, so he froze them where they stood before coldly slaughtering each and every one without a single afterthought.

After a series of twists and turns and a few elevator rides, he reached the hangar bay, which to his relief was uncharacteristically vacant of troopers and other crew members. Clearly they decided to go searching for him in the inner maze of the star destroyer.

After sucking in a few deep breaths of precious oxygen, chest heaving, sweat dotting his brow, Kylo drew upon every last ounce of energy he possessed and bolted towards his TIE Silencer, located at the far side of the platform with the personal ships of other officers.

As he crossed the middle of the hangar, a red bolt zoomed passed his ear. His position had been compromised, and now he was under heavy fire.

In any other instance, Kylo would have halted their fire in place, freezing each bolt with the Force. But he was exhausted, and there were far too many bolts. The effort needed to stop every single one may risk his life, so he continued to run, relying on his heightened senses to dodge blast after blast.

He almost made it to his ship unscathed when one of the trooper’s blasters struck true and hit him smack dab in the middle of his right shoulder blade.

Pain, violent and hot, spread through his shoulder and down his arm. He could barely hold onto his saber. Trying to cope, Kylo’s breathing quickened and became heavy as blood began trickling from the wound. Still, he pushed on. He was too close to give in now.

When he finally reached the TIE Silencer, he hopped into the sleek, utilitarian cockpit and flipped every switch needed for takeoff. Being the Supreme Leader, he didn’t need clearance to leave, nor was his ship required to be locked when docked. The second his ship was ready, Kylo hit the acceleration and sped full speed out of the hangar bay into the dark expanse of space.

He made it, and as he pushed his ship to its limits, he was now reminded that he needed to find a place to hide. But where could he go where the First Order wouldn’t be able to find him?

After a moment of contemplation, he settled on one very lonely planet. It was off the grid from anyone within the First Order. Plus, this planet had something he had been meaning to follow up on.

After he hastily patched his wound, he punched in the coordinates and made the jump to lightspeed, flying as fast as his ship could take him. To what lay waiting at the first Jedi temple.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

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