#perhaps don’t flame me chat

[dipperscavern]

idk if you would write but i would love to see in ur style a tyrell!reader x robb. imagine being the winter rose? omg living the biggest dream by being a beauty of the seven realms, having tales of ur beauty passed on, and then being betrothed to robb as a mean of house tyrell to guarantee their safety, but still, theres no northern or southern who can resist the tyrell beauty and robb is one of them

nana.. this ask did things to me. i love this idea smsmsm & thank u for sending it in !!

tyrell beauty was never anything that could be denied — by friend or by foe.

you & your twin sister, margaery, were the greatest testimonies to that. while margaery was no doubt beautiful, tales of your beauty had spread throughout the seven kingdoms. singers, poets, servants & kings alike had all heard and contributed to the spread of the tale of the tyrell rose — not only beautiful in physical aspects, but a gorgeous personality to match.

you & margaerys older brother, loras, was also rumored for his looks. safe to say, you three were widely known.. the beauties of house tyrell.

even the north, cold and harsh as it was, was not exempt from hearing the tales of you & your siblings beauty. jokes and speculations had long passed around winterfell, only increasing tenfold when hearing about house tyrell’s rumored interest in forming an allegiance with the north. when bran, rickon, & arya stepped into the castle, covered in dirt & almost soaking wet from that days ministrations, jory only sighed seeing them, ushering them to baths with a mutter of-

“the beauties of winterfell…”

robb only laughed at the teases he heard about you & your siblings, but sometimes found his thoughts wandering to you. his mind often drifting to think about the tyrell rose, absurd childlike questions, that he should’ve pushed away as quickly as they entered his mind. do the tales do your beauty justice? what are you like in person? are you warm? would you like him? what would you think of the north?

he focused on training, doing as he was told & preparing to become lord of winterfell one day, although he couldn’t stop the fleeting thoughts about you that arose every once in a while. a child’s dream, he thought.

so you can imagine his surprise when his father & mother sat him down, telling him of the alliance house tyrell wanted to make with house stark..

through marriage.

robb felt like he was dreaming. the beauty of the seven kingdoms, betrothed to him? he could barely keep the smile off his face, wanting to not only improve stature to his house, but do his duty as a husband. excitement pooled in his gut, as theon clasped his hands on robb’s shoulders at dinner, congratulating him. theon’s hands waved in the air, saying something about-

“the beauty and the beast..”

any other night he would’ve gotten a shove to the ground, but robb only threw him a playful smile. even theon’s relentless teasing couldn’t ruin this for him. if he was to be lord of winterfell one day, he’d need a strong woman by his side — he dreamed of a relationship like his mother and fathers, and he prayed in the godswood to the old gods that night, that they would guide your union as man and wife.

in the days leading up to your arrival at winterfell, countless preparations were made. the tyrell host was large, and all of the starks had done their parts to prepare to receive it. you were to stay in winterfell for a week before the wedding, and your family would leave shortly after. you had handmaidens and a few select soldiers to stay with you at winterfell, and you could visit high garden anytime you wanted in the near future. you asked your grandmother if she would visit you in winterfell again after the wedding, but she only put a hand over your own & said it would take the Father himself to drag her back to that “frozen wasteland”.

the day you arrive, robb thinks he’s might jump out of his skin, he’s so nervous. still, he puts on a brave face for his & his families sake, wanting to be everything you need and more.

you, margaery, and the queen of thornes are riding in the wheelhouse, while ser loras is in front of it, mounted on a white mare. his armor glints in the sunlight, doing wonders to illuminate his face. he’s handsome, robb can admit, and that only makes his curiosity increase about you & your sister. & once you both step out of the wheelhouse, robb feels his heart skip as many beats as it can without killing him.

a few of your cousins step out first, giggly as they curtsy to the starks and stand respectively to the side. margaery is next, gorgeous auburn hair & a button nose, a flattering dress with the tyrell colors proudly on display, and a sweet smile to accompany it all. she curtsy’s as well, standing more in front of the wheelhouse, as loras dismounts and moves to stand next to her.

when you step out of the wheelhouse, robb’s breath hitches. his body forgets every single instinct he’s ever had, & he has to remind himself to breathe, as to not kill himself. you’re beautiful. stunning. a sight for sore eyes. he doesn’t think there’s any word in the common tongue that can be used to describe your beauty without downplaying it. it seems like nobody can tear their eyes off of you, your aura doing wonders to brighten the damp atmosphere.

you curtsy to them all, along with a smile he wishes would never leave your face. robb can’t tear his eyes from you, even when you move to offer your hand to the queen of thornes as she steps out. you meet robb’s gaze in the moment everyones attention is not on you. the corner of his mouth tilts up in a smirk as he winks at you. you only tilt your head, brows lightly furrowing as you smile at him. your gaze falls to the floor as blush rises to your cheeks, retracting your hand from your grandmothers and smoothing out your gown.

pleasantries are exchanged, you and robb stealing glances to each other every so often. lady olenna & a few of your cousins go with ned stark & lady catelyn, moving to discuss the wedding, among other things. you take robb’s arm as he escorts you, margaery, and loras to where you’ll be staying at. robb drinks in every moment with you.

you’re gorgeous, soft, & warm. you have a kind heart, a love for the arts and children, and you’re very kind. your shy nature bubbles away as you grow more comfortable in each others presence.

that night, a great feast is held. everyone of the starklings is made to be in attendance, and robb prays that arya can keep her withering resolve just a little bit longer. you’re sat beside him, softly laughing at a remark ned had made. robb’s heart warms at the sight of you & his father getting along, but is quickly forgotten when he sees arya dash away & out of the hall. guards are sent after her, and robb bites back a smile at her daring antics.

he’s snapped out of his thoughts as your hand clasps his bicep, his head turns towards you as you lean into speak in his ear.

“forgive me, i must be excused. i’ll return shortly.” you say, a reassuring smile making its way onto your face as you get up. robb only nods, sighing in an attempt to soothe his frayed nerves.

it’s a few minutes later when the queen of thornes sits next to him, striking up light conversation. judging his character, no doubt. at the end of it she nods her head in approval, asking him to please find her granddaughter — wherever she’s run off to. robb stands up with an-

“of course, my lady.”

moving to follow the direction you went in. it takes him outside, and he looks around, before his gaze settles on you & a small form behind you, a guard approaching in front of you. robb was lucky to be in earshot of you.

“pardon, my lady, we’re looking for arya underfoot, ned starks daughter. ‘bout yay high, brown of hair. have you seen ‘er ‘round?”

you were stood beside a pillar, one arm behind your back as you discreetly pressed arya further behind you. one shift of your form & arya would be revealed, dragged back to the festivities she had just escaped from. robb watched you from afar, careful not to give away your position — but close enough to hear & see your response. curiosity spread through him as he and the guard both awaited your answer.

your brows furrowed in faux confusion, looking at the guard with a soft expression.

“i must confess, i haven’t seen her. brown of hair, you said?”

the guard swallowed, nodding as he eyed you up & down. you smiled sweetly at him.

“i will be sure to keep an eye out, ser…?”

you slightly raised your brows, and the guard quickly gave you his name. you repeated it to him, and the guard nodded, smiling.

“would you be so kind to escort me back to the festivities? a castle like this.. it’s so easy to get lost.”

the guard quickly agreed, not being able to resist you, & robb is enamored, having witnessed the tyrell charm firsthand. what happens next seals the deal for robb.

as you move to take the guards arm, you spot loras patrolling, his path sending him to pass on the other side of the pillar that you’re at. the eye contact between you both is minimal, and robb almost misses your eyes slightly widen & the small nod of his head. with one swift move, you’re grasping the guards bicep & using your other hand to gently push arya to your older brother, as he outstretches his hand just enough for arya to get the hint. as you walk off, loras has one hand on aryas shoulder, ushering her off with a wink — & robb watches the smile grow on aryas face as she slips away.

yeah, he thinks. you’re perfect.

his winter rose.

sorry if this was too long or not what you were envisioning, but i had sm fun writing this !! tyrell supremacy

[strawchocoberry]

LUSTFUL HEIGHTS

Work it for the camera, little film star

kinktober 2024 — day eight

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ featuring. shidou ryusei x fem reader

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ content warnings. smut, sextape, public sex, cunnilingus, nipple play, spanking, dirty talk, orgasm denial, squirting, breeding kink

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ synopsis. confession from the old tower — word count. 1.7k 

The flames from the bonfires crackle, yet nobody can hear them over the sound of music and conversations. Laughs and small arguments can be heard from every direction. Everyone has settled in groups already, a couple people going back and forth between different groups, messing around and causing chaos. But it is slowly getting more quiet, seeing as some start vanishing in isolated places around, for obvious reasons. 

You got dragged here by none other than Shidou, who just had to have the most insane idea about tonight. And though you agreed at first, now you feel a bit unsure about it. You watch him chat and fool around with the other guys, yet your mind is still stuck on what’s going to happen. Well, to be fair, you were the one initiating everything. More accurately that text you sent him about thinking how fun it would be to get fucked on camera and post it on twitter. You already know that Shidou has one such account, posting faceless videos and whatnot. 

And so he just suggested you do it. He’s wanted to film outdoor sex for a while now, but didn’t have anyone to film with, his words, not yours. And what better occasion to film such a filthy video than tonight on Devil’s Night? 

As time passes by, you think that perhaps he’s forgotten all about it. You pray he has. But when you see him approaching you with that devious smirk curling up his lips and his backpack on one shoulder, you know. He hasn’t forgotten. 

Shidou discreetly drags you after him, entering the old tower sitting a few metres away from where the party is still in full bloom. You go up a couple floors and stop when he finds the perfect spot to shoot. You watch him arrange his cameras, fumbling with the flimsy skirt he had you wear for tonight. Your nervousness doesn’t pass unnoticed by him. When he’s done, he approaches you, cupping your cheek to make you look at him. 

“Changed your mind?”

Yet you avoid answering him, looking at the camera. “Is it filming now?” you ask, turning to look at him again. 

“Yeah, but don’t worry. I’ll crop out our faces.” He pauses for a moment, before adding, “If you’re still down for this.” 

You think about it for a moment. You’re nervous, but his presence is calming you down. Besides, you wanted to do this to do something “you’d never do in your right mind,” as you said in that text. If there’s one night you’re allowed to let those dark thoughts you usually hide break loose, it’s tonight. 

Taking one last look between the camera and him, you wrap your arms around him, standing on your toes to reach him. “Don’t disappoint me.”

He smirks. “When have I ever?”

Shidou captures your lips hostage, groping your arse and lifting you off the ground, carrying you to the stone bench behind you. He sits down with you on his lap, biting your lip and dragging it out, while looking into your eyes. You involuntarily moan, tugging at his hair, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and sucking on your sweet flesh to leave behind his marks. 

He lifts your hoodie up, making you bite the hem to keep it up for him. His large palms grope your plush tits over your bra, pulling the fabric down and making them spill out in his hands. He runs the pads of his thumbs over your nipples, eliciting a soft muffled moan from your lips. Shidou teases your sensitive nipples until they become erect little buds. And even then, he doesn’t leave them alone, taking them in turns in his mouth, sucking and biting them, slapping them too. 

You’ve forgotten all about the camera filming you, instead your mind screaming to be fucked at this very instant, else it’ll die. Unconsciously, while he’s busy tending to your delicious tits, you start grinding yourself on his trousers. Shidou stops his ministrations and instead looks up at you, still biting down on your hoodie, softly whimpering as you rub your needy core over his clothed crotch. 

“So needy,” he coos, slapping your arse hard, making you squeal. “Want my cock that bad, pretty girl?”

Your cheeks blush at his words which go straight to your needy cunt. He knows what you want and he’s only teasing you because it’s fun. Letting the hem of the hoodie fall out of your mouth, you look at him irritated, tugging at his hair hard. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

In a second, Shidou stands up and places you down on the bench, kneeling before you and spreading your legs. His smirk only grows bigger when he notices the absence of your panties. Not that he didn’t know. He’s the one who told you not to wear any tonight, confiscating them to tease you when you arrived here earlier, when the party started. He pushes your skirt up, giving the camera a perfect view of your pretty pussy, before his tongue darts out to lick your folds. 

The way he eats you out is aggressive, more so than he usually does. He’s desperate to taste you and have you screaming his name along with praises for everyone in the near vicinity to hear you. He toys with your clit and thrusts his long tongue inside your needy little hole, your failed attempts to stay quiet pleasing him. And yet, before you’re able to cum all over his tongue, he pushes away to tease you once more. 

“Arsehole.” 

Shidou laughs, coming up to kiss your lips once more, letting you taste yourself on him. You moan in your kiss, your exposed pussy getting caressed by the fall night breeze blowing. He undoes his trousers, pulling them down along with his underwear to free his throbbing dick, slapping it on your wet cunt, smirking in your lips at the sweet complaint sounds you make. He rubs the crown on your folds, coating it in your arousal, before he thrusts inside you, filling you up in one go, groaning at how tight you feel around him. 

“Fuck, pretty…” Shidou grunts. “So tight for me.” 

He catches your legs, holding them above his forearms as he starts pounding you, hard and fast. You cover your mouth with your hands to prevent your moans from spilling out, terrified of being heard by the people at the party. And he finds this sight of you, all desperate for his cock, yet still afraid of getting caught, so fucking adorable, he can’t help thrusting even harder, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot of yours to draw out your moans you so frantically try to deprive him of. 

“What happened, pretty? Don’t want other people hearing how much of a slut you are for me? How desperate you are for my cock?” 

“F-Fuck you, Ryu.” 

“Oh? Is that the problem?” Burying himself inside you, Shidou lifts you up and takes a seat on the bench, having you straddle his legs. You let out a low moan, feeling him even deeper with this change in positions. “Then go right ahead, sweets,” he says, leaning back, his hands groping your arse. “Fuck me till you’re satisfied.” 

You glare at him only for a moment, before you start riding his cock. He’s pissing you off right now, but you’re still frustrated about not coming earlier. And if he’s going to tease you like that, you may as well use him to get off. 

He’s not stupid. He knows you’re cursing at him in your pretty little mind. He makes you bite the hem of your hoodie once more, not because he’s scared you’ll start cursing at him on camera, but simply because Shidou wants to see your perky tits bouncing as you ride him. Yet as punishment for mentally cursing at him, he still spanks your arse and slaps your tits, making you cry. But that’s nothing. 

The tears start falling when he once more denies you the pleasure of feeling that high, denying you your orgasm again. He wipes your tears and kisses your pouty lips, as you punch his shoulders and desperately try to move yourself. But it’s pointless, he’s holding you down on him too tight to be able to move. When he breaks the kiss, you’re ready to slap him. 

However, before you even realise it, Shidou has you on your hands and knees, thrusting right back in your depths from behind, the aggressive sound of skin slapping against skin reverberating through the walls of this old tower. You try to push yourself back to him, away from the window, not wanting to be seen, but of course, he does not allow that, forcing you till the middle of the windowsill. You pray that due to the height, nobody will see you. 

You try, you really do, but it’s so hard not to moan when he starts rubbing your clit, slapping it from time to time to torment you even more. And as you feel your orgasm building up inside you again, he starts to slow down. And you’re so desperate to cum, you don’t care if you’re heard or seen. 

“Ryu, please, no!” you whimper, looking at him over your shoulder, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Please, I wanna cum! I wanna cum so bad! Please, Ryu!” 

His indifferent expression turns into a devilish smirk, as he wraps both hands around your neck and pulls you back, your body arching against him. “Look at you, begging so good for me.” His pace slowly picks up again, your eyes closing from the impending pleasure. “Go ahead, sweets. Make a mess on my cock for me.” 

And you do. You make a real mess, squirting all over his dick and triggering his own orgasm, having him spill his hot seed inside your tight pussy. You relax in his arms, leaning back on him, as he holds you, kissing your temple. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum loads whenever I watch this video.” 

“Are you going to upload it?” 

You hear him laugh and turn to look at him over your shoulder. He catches your chin, bringing you closer to his face. 

“I was never going to upload shit,” Shidou reveals. “You’re meant for me and only me.”

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

CONSUMED by dadsbestfriend!Price rn

He and your dad served together when they were both younger men, boys really, and they fought side by side for years before your dad packed all that in and decided not to renew his contract - leaving for a white picket fence life with your mum and you

You’ve never gotten to meet him before, but you feel like you kind of know him anyways because of the stories you’ve grown up hearing. He’s always been like a kind of figment of your imagination, someone your dads always spoken highly of in all of his tales from drunken weekends and adrenaline spiked firefights, he’s like some kind of mythic hero haloed in beer fumes and musing looks that get shut down when your mum asks if they both got themselves into any trouble on their latest gambit

Sure, you’ve seen pictures, you know what his face looks like, vaguely anyways. Apparently he has mutton chops now, something your dad is ‘always shocked by’ when they meet up now. However the pictures don’t do him justice. You realise that quickly after you do lay eyes on him.

You go over to your parents house, summoned for an early birthday dinner for your dad, and that’s when you see him. The man, the myth, the legend is cosied up on your usual spot on the corner couch, at the end of the short side with the chunky red tartan pillow barricading the hard brown couch arm. He turns when he sees you staring directly at him, meeting your gaze with a raised eyebrow.

The pictures didn’t really encapsulate how big he was, how broad his shoulders were as they took up an expanse of the chair back, how expressive his eyes were as they rover over you, how nauseatingly good he looked when ripped out of the confines of ink and paper and pressed into the lumpy old sofa you’d never been so needy to jump onto before.

Every little overworked neuron in your mind was busy exploding while you pictured tugging on his hair and beard and moaning out filthy things for him.

“You must be the kid,” Price observes, not knowing how much it would sting you, “how’s the head?”

If you weren’t aware of how childish it would be you’d huff that you were far from being a kid anymore.

“How’s my what?” Part of you wants to quip back that it’s ‘great- it comes recommended’ but then the sane part of you kicks in and thinks ‘perhaps don’t get yourself kicked out just as you’ve gotten in the door’

“Your dad showed me that charming little photo you stuck in the family group chat from the party last night. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree by the looks of it.”

Your face would flame up like a radiator in the dead of winter, you were just about spluttering and hissing like one too. You’d forgotten all about the drunken selfie you’d sent while in a full haze of peace love and a couple draws of your friend’s j after countless rum and cokes. ‘Love u guys, see ya tomoz’ you’d typed over it - remembering how you fumbled and squinted at the screen just so that it would be halfway coherent. Now sober, you knew it probably wasn’t.

“Fuck me, it actually sent,” you grumbled, jumping when you hear his earthy laugh tumble out.

His voice is like tree bark and honey, stolen straight from the mountains and imbued into his throat. You hang on his every sound, keen eyes glued to his plush pink lips that Peak out from under his beard.

You hardly notice your dad coming in until he’s all but shouting your name, wrapping you in for a bear hug you weren’t in the slightest prepared for.

Every response form there on out was hazy, as if it had been preprogrammed. For the entire night all you’d be able to focus on was John - He’d tell you to call him that after awkwardly addressing him as Sir, though not before something dark slithered over his eyes and passed in the instant it had come.

You’d spent the whole night fixated on John, hanging on his every word, sighing heavily when he reached back and combed through his hair, tousling it to a point that made you wonder if that’s how it looked after a night well spent in passion.

You were lucky you got through the dinner without making an arse of yourself, though to be fair your mum had gotten a jab in about how quiet you’d been. Better that than being embarrassing.

Though you weren’t to get away unscathed. It’d get late and after spending the whole night before fanatically talking and dancing, you had no energy left for being at your parents - present company included or not. However before you could call a taxi, Price would jump in and offer you a lift, claiming taxis were far too unsafe for someone so precious.

It’d make your parents laugh, but you weren’t even smiling. You’d stutter your excuses, telling him he didn’t need to make a fuss, but he’d be persistent. Being an army Captain and all, he was very difficult to argue with, so of course you found yourself in the passenger seat of his monstrous car, watching nervously as the old beast sputtered to life.

“Is this thing even legal to ride?” You’d mutter, frowning at the persistent choking noise that rattled underneath the engine roar.

“Could ask the same about you.”

It was barely a whisper, almost lost to the growl in his throat and the sound of the engine, but you were so sure you’d heard it said nonetheless. The possibility of it sent your back stick straight and your mouth plummeting to the floor, though in the back of your mind you wondered if you’d only heard him say it from out of the depths of your subconscious.

“Excuse me?” You’d chirp.

“I said: couldn’t get you to pull up some directions, could you?”

He’d side eye you as he said it, smiling to himself as he indicates and pulls out onto the road and out of the cul-de-sac.

Right. Directions, of course. You were just being filthy minded, you’d had a long couple days and you were strung out and tired. Why would he insinuate that he wanted to know if you were the right age to fuck or not. Especially when - even if you were by many measures - he was off limits to you. Forbidden. No go. Like the battle zones he probably waded into through his day job.

“Here you go. It’s not far!”

You’d pull up your phone, placing it on the dashboard so that he could see. He’d tell you to put on music too, shocking you when he’d produce an aux cord (by rights this car shouldn’t have even had the words aux cord uttered in it, but somehow it supported one).

“What kind of stuff do you listen to?” You’d ask, waiting to hear whatever dreary nonsense he was likely to come out with.

“What do you think I listen to?” He’d ask, barely paying attention to you as he made his way down the main road. “I’ll be happy with whatever you put on.”

“I mean i doubt our tastes are super similar.”

“You trying to drive at somethin’ here, sweetheart?”

You’d light up at the name, lighting up from the inside out in quiet awe. It’d be a challenge having to suppress your little firework show off happiness, so you’d hide it by shrugging and saying “figured you’d listen to old man music.”

He’d shake his head and grumble about ‘no such thing’ up until you put on an old Killers song and watched him smile - then you’d sagely nod your head and repeat ‘old man music’ delighting in his playful growl.

“Killers ain’t even that old sweetheart, at least stick some Dylan or Cash on if you’re gonna patronise me.”

“This came out in 2004, dude - I don’t know what to tell ya. It’s old.”

“Dude,” he’d grunt back. “Earlier it was Sir, was it not?”

You’d flush again and face the window, suddenly absorbing yourself in the outside world. The way he said that was far too…inviting. The no go zone was looking like the ‘get right the fuck in here and stomp all over your parents relationship with this man’ zone.

You couldn’t help yourself.

“Sorry, sir,” you’d tease. “Won’t happen again.”

Stupid insatiable brat, you’d inwardly curse, watching as Price’s smile widened again, pulling his whole face into a knowing grin.

It’d be clear to see you weren’t the only one fighting the urge to cross the barrier and take what you wanted. And with two people smashing at the confines…well.

One thing was for certain, you knew it in the pit of your belly, there was no way you were going to stay away now.

[childotkw]

okay but imagine the grindelwald! harry au mixed with that ybtm(ibty) au where it's actually harry that goes to nathan's world. i would assume that dumbledore wouldn't allow those rumors to spread if harry came to him first, but if harry had built up a reputation beforehand... it's technically not allowed/ taboo to discuss the rumor (not like the school can place a ban on it), but the whole student body knows it by the time harry is there and assisting dumbledore. dumbledore can't even claim harry as his son or relative at this point because it would just end in even more disaster. harry is super adverse to the rumor but his refusal just kinda stokes the flames higher and at this point even grindelwald is aware that his supposed son is hanging out with dumbledore at hogwarts. and wouldn't that be rejection of the highest order again? or perhaps he wouldn't really even believe the rumor but that power that harry effortlessly wields, that's something to see. i feel like nathan would believe harry when he said that he wasn't grindelwald's son, but orion would do the real plotting when he connects nathan's attackers to grindelwald, like, the amount of drama orion lives for is RIGHT THERE orion would prob be disappointed when he doesn't see results tho lol, but he has plenty of other entertainment. like harry and his everything. and tom too, but he sees tom more than harry, and tom likes to hide everything, so. anyways this idea has consumed me so i'm sorry about the word vomit lmao your aus are very plot-bunny inducing

A spin off of Dark Side of the Moon where Harry side-stepped Dumbledore and Hogwarts completely, and became some vigilante-esque figure in the Wizarding underworld because his saving people thing was alive and well even if he's a grumpy boy.

His actions - stepping in and defending others regardless of status or species, breaking up the more destructive and illegal rings in Knockturn and making things a little safer for those living there, dodging the aurors with all the skill of a career criminal, etc. - drew attention.

Because of course they did.

And people loved to gossip about him.

Because of course they did.

Harry was focussed on trying to get home (he has yet to chat with Death), and unintentionally kicked off some of those rumours himself. Rumours that, for some reason, had people thinking he was Grindelwald’s son?

(It was absolutely because of the Deathly Hallows tattoo on his hip - don’t ask how it got there, don’t ask how the group of hags spotted it, Harry purged that memory from his brain, it did not happen).

Anyway.

Harry was strolling around Knockturn on Halloween and stepped in to chase off the men attacking Nathan, safely whisked the boy back to his family and let them know that Grindelwald’s men were on the prowl. Benedict took that warning seriously, and Cynthia proposed Harry stop by one afternoon for tea as a thank you.

And one gossipy vampire who witnessed Harry curb-stomp Grindelwald’s men spread the word that the Dark Lord’s apparent son was ‘on the outs’ with his father because why else would he attack a group of Acolytes unless there was trouble in paradise?

Long, long story short - Harry eventually ended up at Hogwarts as some weird teacher assistant / in protective custody / a God (people are too scared to ask at this point). He just chilled in the school, occasionally disappearing without a word to dismantle an illegal poaching organisation or bulldoze through some of Grindelwald’s men.

It was only after a few months that Harry even heard the rumour that people think he’s Grindelwald’s disgruntled, long-lost son. He tried denying it at first but by this point the rumour is so pervasive and wide-spread that he couldn’t change it. So Harry just rolled with it.

“Why yes, I am Gellert’s son. Yes, I think his political agenda is stupid. No, he’s not all powerful, he’s actually a moron and I’m going to break his nose when I next see him.”

People are lowkey terrified. Nathan has his pseudo-older brother who is training him to be a badass. Orion is frothing at the mouth and Tom is vibrating at a frequency that could propel himself into the sun.

Gellert just wants to know why anyone would look at him and think he’d ever sleep with a woman. Then he claims the magically-powerful-possible-god-man-thing as his son because why not?

[shunin-gumis]

Designs of Happiness - Track A06

L4mps Main story Translation

Title: Cafe369’s New Flavored Bun

Characters: Toi, Daniel, Netaro, Nagi

Summary: To find the fated person who would lead him to his brother, Toi guides the protagonist to the local meatbun shop. But as they were about to enter, strange noises echo throughout the premises… 

JP Proofreading: aca @463ce6 and tsukimi @rurumiiii on twt EN Proofreading: jes @arcanecrayonn and tsukimi @rurumiiii on twt

Also big thanks to you three for helping me with Netaro speech!

Location: A Town in HAMA

Toi: Ani-sama… please be safe, wherever you are… I’ll bring you back soon… 

Momiji: He’s been praying this whole time we were walking… I can tell he loves his brother very much.

Momiji: 5 minutes to 11 pm… 

Momiji: Toi-kun, how’s it going? It’s almost 11 pm, do you think we can make it in time?

Toi: It’s ok, we’re almost– Ah!

Toi: That’s the place! I’m sure of it!

Location: Cafe369

Momiji: Wait, this is Cafe369… 

Daniel: You been here before?

Momiji: I’ve dined here once, with Akuta-kun. It’s advertised as a meat bun shop, but there are  quite the unusual variety of buns sold here, including fillings other than meat… All of which are equally delicious.

Toi: Wow, it’s wonderful to see fate already at work again!

Daniel: I’m glad yer getting along with those kids but– Was this meatbun place always here?

Toi: Eh?

Momiji: What are you talking about? This place has been around for a long time. Right, Toi-kun?

Toi: Even though I’ve never gone in before, I do remember passing by it often… But, when did they first open…? 

Momiji: Now that I think about it, I’m not sure either… 

Daniel: I swear this was just an empty lot until recently though… 

Momiji: But… it’s right there.

Toi: Right?

Daniel: … Well, whatever. Can’t say much when it’s right in front of us. Maybe I’m just rememberin’ it wrong.

Daniel: …Hm?

Daniel: That’s… You two go on ahead.

Momiji: Daniel-san? Where are you–

Momiji: Aaaand he’s gone… Well, I guess the two of us can go in first. Though, considering how late it is, the shop might be closed already… 

Toi: That’s true… 

Toi: Ah, there’s a notice put up on the entrance.

Momiji: “Temporarily closed for ingredient procurement”...? No way–

*loud explosive noises*

Momiji: Woah!?

Toi: *startled gasp*

Momiji: Ah, did it stop…?

Momiji: What was that just now? So loud too… 

Toi: It came from inside the cafe! Maybe someone’s in trouble…!

Momiji: That may be so, but…  

Momiji: We don’t know what went down in there, so I don’t think heading in without Daniel-san would be a good idea… 

Momiji: Toi-kun, you should wait here–

???: Boo!

Pet Robot: Bwoo!

Momiji: AAAHHHHHHH!!! 

Toi: AAAHHHHHHH!!

???: WOOOAHH!

Toi: Eek…!

???: Ahaha~ Did I frighten you?

Momiji: H-huh? This person is… 

~~~(flashback)

???: Hrmm… Indeed, I do catch a whiff of it around here but…

Momiji: …..

???: You, human.

???: Tell me, would you know where my missing item might have wandered off to?

~~~(end flashback)

Momiji: Ah! You were the person who came by HAMA house the other day!!

???: Hm?

???: Oh~ You’re from that place where that green-pea canine resides. 

Momiji: Yes, I remember you saying you were in the mood for some green peas… So you’re the owner of this cafe? 

Toi: Um, do you know this person?

Momiji: I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say that… We did have a chat in passing a while ago. 

Toi: … Is that your pet robot next to you? Good evening, little one.

Laika: La~ i~ ka~

Momiji: So your name’s Laika! It’s nice to meet you.

Cafe Owner?: More importantly, do you have time to spare right now? I’m in a bit of a pickle, you see~

Momiji: In a... pickle?

Cafe Owner?: I simply do not have enough hands to get the job done right now… At this rate, perhaps it would be better if I just have this entire place go up in flames… 

Momiji: Huh!? That’s more than just a “bit” of a pickle!

Toi: We’ll help you however we can! I’m sure that’s the reason we were guided here! 

Cafe Owner?: Ooh~ How wonderfully helpful indeed! 

~~~

Location: Inside Cafe369

Momiji: Woah, I can barely see in here… 

Momiji: Toi-kun, are you alright? Maybe it’d be better if you just wait outside… 

Toi: I feel terribly lonely and afraid without Ani-sama but… I can’t just stand back when I know this path will lead me to him! 

Cafe Owner?: Shh–! Hush now! Lower your volume, lest we be overheard by the pesky trespasser!

Momiji: An intruder!? Are you sure it’s not just a customer or an employee who got lost…? 

Cafe Owner?: Indeed.

Toi: Oh no…!

Cafe Owner?: This is a tale of what unfolded this very evening, when I was about to take a respite… I had been in the middle of picking my brain, pondering what new ingredient I could possibly stuff into my meat buns, when suddenly, my sixth sense went zing! and… EUREKA!

Cafe Owner?: It drew my attention to the fact that there was a suspicious individual inside the building, watching me…!

Toi: Eek… 

Cafe Owner?: I could sense their gaze drilling into me…  And so, I took a big gulp, steadied my beating heart… and BAM! I turned right around to face them!

Cafe Owner?: But alas, their presence had already faded away like mist… I’m certain the fellow is still lurking somewhere, within these walls… 

Laika: Lurker.

Momiji: … I really, really hope he’s not talking about a cockr*ach… 

Toi: What do we do if they’re a bad person… I’m not really strong so… 

Cafe Owner?: This particular individual is adorned with wings, sips the sweet nectar from blossoms, scatters pollen across the lands, and wields a deadly stinger….

Momiji: Wait… 

Toi: That’s… 

Laika: Bzzz… 

Toi: A bumblebee?

Cafe Owner?: Indeed, you got it right.

Toi: Yay!

Momiji: So all those explosions we heard were from when you were trying to… deal with the bees?

Cafe Owner?: Ehehe~ I simply had to have my hands on them, so I made a little bit of a mess, you could say. Back home, we don’t have these critters–

Cafe Owner?: Bees… Insecta class: Hymenoptera. This order includes both bees and ants, and as implied by the etymology, they are classified by their transparent but membranous forewings and hindwings.

Cafe Owner?: All hymenoptera are capable of undergoing complete metamorphosis. While ants are not as widely recognized as being part of the order, the others are generally considered so.

Cafe Owner?: These include Siricidae, Tenthredinidae, Pamphiliidae, Cimbicidae, Argidae, Orussidae, Evanioidea, Ichneumonoidea, and much more… 

Cafe Owner?: Such variety~ It certainly follows that there even exist cultures that consume insects! I must also mention, they are explosively nutritious as well!

Cafe Owner?: And so~  As you may have put two and two together, I had set up various, perhaps potentially dangerous, contraptions to ensnare some of these critters so that I may procure some fresh ingredients. This is all for the sake of experimenting with new flavors for my buns, you see!

So here, catch this!

Momiji: Woah, hey…!

Momiji: This is… a fishing reel…?

Cafe Owner?: It would be unwise to space out at this time, lest you commit a blunder.  Make sure to hold it properly!

Momiji: Sorry, that was an… extraordinary amount of information you just dumped on us. I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed for a moment there… 

Toi: You must be an expert on bumblebees!

Cafe Owner?: Ho ho ho!

Momiji: So, what am I supposed to do with this reel?

Cafe Owner?: You must reel it in at my signal. In the event the pest escapes the trap, I must give chase immediately. So, you will have to spin the reel in my stead!

Momiji: O-okay, got it… Well, I didn’t get it at all but if this helps you, then I’ll do it.

Toi: Please give it your best pull!

Momiji: I’ll give it my all.

Cafe Owner?: …..

Toi: ….. 

Momiji: ….. 

???: Um–

Cafe Owner?: NOW—!!!

Momiji: Got it!!!

Momiji: This is some heavy reel…! Since it’s so sturdy, it should be alright even when pulling in a heavy load…!

Momiji: The grip on this handle is good, and the line seems pretty strong! There’s little drag too– I’m sure we can haul in a big one!

Toi: Wow! You sound just like a professional fisherman! 

Momiji: Ahaha…! All of that info was drilled into me… by a friend of mine… named Kafka…! 

Momiji: C’mon!

Momiji: We’re… bringing… you… home…!

Momiji: *grunts*

Momiji: Got it…! 

Cafe Owner?: Huzzah!

Toi: Wow, that’s a big bumblebee… (?)

Momiji: Huh…?

Momiji: That’s… a human, right?

Cafe Owner?: Bumbling humans are acceptable ingredients as well!

Momiji: What!?

Daniel: Yo! I’m pretty sure the SR parked outside is the bike that fella had–

Nagi: …..

Daniel: What, found him already?

Momiji: Daniel-san… Please help me get him down…!

Notes:

Netaro’s Bug Report: Siricidae | Tenthredinidae | Pamphiliidae | Cimbicidae | Argidae | Orussidae | Evanioidea | Ichneumonoidea Also in the original Japanese, I believe they either typo’d the bug family names of Argidae (In script: ミツフシハバチ科, Correct name: ミフシハバチ科) and Orussidae (In script: ヤドリギキバチ科, Correct name: ヤドリキバチ科) or they are somehow two new bug families in the future.  The pdf I referred to is the Hymenoptera classification by Hirohiko Nagase

Green-pea canine is what Netaro calls Shuumai.

The Hachi Pun: Netaro wants to capture a bee(ハチ hachi in Japanese) to test them out as a new flavor for his buns, so he set a trap. But in the end it was actually Nagi (whose last name is Hachinoya) who was caught in the trap. 

Nagi’s bike is the Yamaha SR400, or at least a futuristic bike modeled after one.

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Masterlist

[eating-plastic]

Headcanons: Maison Talo Being Protective Over His S/O

A/N: Yay, my first x reader thingy! Also, don’t get it twisted, just because I have never reblogged  anything about Scopophobia Studios on my blog doesn’t mean I don’t like their stuff. Anyhoo, this is for the few House House lovers out there. Enjoy!

🏠-There are two things that Maison Talo is certain about

🏠-1.) He loves you and cares about you dearly

🏠-2.) The Uncanny Valley has its fair share of dangers (I mean, he should know, he is one of them) 

🏠- He often recommends joining you for walks whether you are going to work, shopping, or just need some fresh air. He says that it is just him wanting to spend time with you and scope out some “food” for himself

🏠-This is only partially true. Don’t get me wrong, he loves spending time with you and he is always on the lookout for some poor soul that made the mistake of moving to the Uncanny Valley, but his true motivations are to make sure some weirdo doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable or harass you. Besides, you and him both know that the bus stops on the edges of the Valley are where he’ll find his “food”, and you barely trek towards the Valley’s edges

🏠-Of course, if you find his presence to be overbearing and want some time to yourself, he’ll hesitantly respect your wishes

🏠-I haven’t even mentioned how he gets when it comes to the threats that he is definitely sure of: Other realtors

  🏠-When he brings this up to you, you are both surprised and not at the same time. I mean, now that you think about it, it makes sense that there would be other “beings” like Maison. At the same time, though, it never popped into your mind (perhaps your brain just doesn’t want to think about potential dangers)

🏠-Maison warns you about how they look and are going to act towards you. Well dressed, sleazy, manipulative, pushy (all things he was towards you when you both first met lol)

🏠-If you are bothered by any other realtor, he wants you to describe them to him. He’ll quickly know who you are talking about and is more than happy to have a little “chat” (read threat) with them about leaving you alone

🏠-While realtors don’t drag their “food” to their house forms by force (i.e. kidnapping), some interactions can leave you a bit shaken up. Especially if you are a more timid person

🏠-If you ever have an encounter that leaves you very shaken, well, don’t be surprised if you see a news story about a “for sale” house on the news that’s gone up in flames on TV

🏠-While you’re watching the news, he’ll glance over to the TV when the story pops up and smile

🏠-”Oh dear, what a shame,” he’ll say before quickly looking away, as the sight of burning houses makes him feel queasy 

🏠-Maison will also find himself getting accustomed to other realtors mocking him 

🏠-”Did you hear? The old man has gone soft.”

🏠-”All of this fuss over a morsel of food.”

 🏠-”That piece of meat’s got him all loopy. He’ll starve.”

🏠-”Shame what happened to Talo. Falling down the food chain like that.”

🏠-He couldn’t care less, though. He hasn’t starved yet and he’s the happiest he’s ever been. And why wouldn’t he? You accept him, you trust him, and you love him. He can’t remember feeling this way towards anyone. Has he ever loved anyone as he does you, before? He isn’t sure

🏠-There is one thing that Maison Talo is certain of: He loves you, his dearest tenant  

[explainslowly]

Get your transfem Dean season 10 au here!! Get yourself a girl who has so many problems!!

This started by me kicking around a little idea in a chat with @autisticandroids - what if Demon Dean just started taking estrogen? Like where would that lead...

The other idea behind these fics was to write short episode reactions, see how much stuff I could fit into something only a few hundreds words long... and to make pushing through season 10 less of a slog...

The series can be found here (I definitely want to continue through season 11 and perhaps longer, I've just been busy with other stuff):

Links to each story with excerpts under the cut:

Even animals suffer - demon Dean in her own words

The number one unpleasant discovery I have made in my time here, is how much of a bleeding sentimental heart Crowley has. It’s pathetic.

Now the guys that stare in bars, those are a different story.

They lead and I follow, behind the building or into their trucks and I bend over easy, let them take me rough, smelling the sweet smell of rotting garbage in damp hot weather. They like to lean on me hard and grab a boob harder, an endless parade of older guys whose failing livers you can smell on their breaths. The pain is sweet.

I don’t need no rising moon - Dean puts himself back together

He examines his naked chest - he wonders what happens next? It’s not like he did much research as a demon - he was just eyeballing the amounts. Maybe the fat will just… reabsorb itself or something. He grabs the small mounds of protruding flesh - the sight of his large hands engulfing them completely gives him a sense of vertigo, or like he’s looking down from a great height, so he closes his eyes and just concentrates on the sensation. They lack the heft of a larger cup, the satisfying weight, but it feels so soothing to hold them nevertheless.

About a girl - Dean has a little thought experiment

It’s kind of funny - Dean forgot how he used to look. That he shot up tall before he got broad, was lanky in a funny way, like an unfinished human. And doe-eyed and soft featured… it makes his mind go in all the wrong directions. Makes him think about possibilities, before testosterone takes hold - a body that hasn’t become yet and is sort of shapeless in a way that makes his head spin.

It’s just idle daydreams.

Lana del Rey croons on the radio and Dean indulges, really gives himself permission to think about it.

What do teen girls even look like these days? He’s out of the loop on it all… Probably something like... thick eyeliner? Lot of makeup… awkwardly applied, but that’s ok. It wouldn’t look out of place on a fifteen year old. That kind of clumsiness is all within reason at that age. You get space to find yourself, that's kind of what being a teen is about, he thinks.

Dirge - a little Drowley interlude

Crowley lays his palms on Dean’s ribcage, framing his chest.

“Hello ladies.”

The embarrassment burns Deam up - he feels his face flame red. “Fucking hell, Crowley…”

“Just getting reacquainted,” Crowley sounds amused, but he doesn’t keep his distance long, dives in, licking Dean’s breast, the beard scratching at sensitive skin, sending electricity down his spine. Crowley is thumping at the nipple not in his mouth and his other hand is unbuttoning Dean’s jeans.

[so-mordor-itis]

Just When You Thought You Knew Everything

@comatosebunny09 ;) I'm really proud of this one, and honestly, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. (I was the anon that suggested the loneliness of Leon.)

zero

There were days when he wasn’t plagued by the terrors of Raccoon City. Days–moreso nights–where his brain cracked open the deeper ends of his consciousness and forced him to remember further back. When he was 8, watching flames bite against the wooden walls of the building he once called home. When his 8-year-old brain thought it was possible to dwindle the fire just by staring at it long enough. Leon remembered then how someone in his family, not sure who, used to comment on his eyes. That they were so blue they could swallow sparks and then proceed to remark they were definitely inherited by his father. (So kind, he thought bitterly, to be told something that belonged to you was really something that actually was someone else’s and now you’re just borrowing it.) Leon’s 8-year-old self held on to that comment, hoping desperately that it was true; that he wasn’t being fed another lie for dinner even if somehow at that age, he knew it was. 

Leon realized his life was unique by the time he was 7. Stuck with another mediocre tv-dinner (though he liked those at the time), he remembered watching his father, drenched from abdomen to ankle in red, trip over himself, heaving. His father looked up, ocean blue piercing ocean blue, before walking back outside to probably continue whatever charade he found himself in. At 7, he wondered if other kids his age also had fathers who would do mysterious things. Fathers who barely spoke to them, only fussing at whatever their mother cooked, grumbling about newspaper articles, and yelling at the phone. Fathers who would look at them, just stare for what felt like hours, only to sigh and protest they never clean their room. Leon wondered if their dads also looked exactly like them but older. 

He hated the dreams that slapped him in the face with unwanted nostalgia almost as much as the ones that groaned in his ears, smelled of iron and rot, and stung his eyes with the memory of smoke from cars on the verge of exploding. 

At least the unwanted nostalgia never left him feeling as if he was a cadaver on the side of the road, organs made of jelly, bones crushed. 

Though, Leon had to ask himself, which was worse: being reminded that he was human or having the bits of the soul he once had sucked out, leaving an empty socket. 

one

You were a new, riveting surprise. 

Ingrid Hunnigan, a fellow agent and communications specialist, had been transferred to a new office building temporarily, allowing someone new to slip into her role and provide him with information and, if needed, support. (“Going on vacation this early, Hunnigan?” Leon had thought to himself in a jest.) You were her replacement, according to Simmons. However, that word didn’t sit right on Leon’s tongue. Replacement indicated Ingrid was now gone and had completely vanished from sight. As far as Leon was concerned, she was none of those. 

He greeted you with neutral respect, holding back the urge to create a snippy comment. He wasn’t aware of how greatly you’d treat his quips or if you’d appreciate them at all. It surprised him when you shook his hand, eyebrow raised as if he had already said something stupid. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Kennedy. I’ve heard a lot about you.” You said in a friendly manner. He couldn’t help the curiosity that was bubbling in him. People talked about him around the office? 

“Oh yeah?” He crossed his arms, offering you a chance to tell him more. “Enlighten me.”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “Mm, I don’t know if Ingrid would be too happy with me if I told you.” His expression was so amusing: he was attempting to act smug as if he knew people were chatting behind his back about his achievements or failures. However, as you regarded his form, you knew that wasn’t the case. Perhaps in the very back of his mind, he glazed over the idea, but once the information was relayed to him, he froze. 

“Before you ask,” you watched his mouth open only to snap shut. “Ingrid and I are friends.” 

Leon sighed. “So this is how it’s going to be.” 

You sat in Ingrid’s chair, giving it a feel. “Oh come on now, don’t say that as if you already can’t stand me.”

It was the opposite, actually. He was already starting to like your attitude, but naturally, he couldn’t let you find that out just yet. Leon needed to grasp that feeling of satisfaction before you welcomed its embrace. 

“I could already hate you, and you wouldn’t even know it.” He remarked, lifting his hand lightly to mitigate his point. 

“Well, damn, shoot me now.” 

two

It honestly startled him how fast you adapted to his behavior. Maybe Hunnigan had given you a lecture on him, Leon S. Kennedy 101: How To Deal With His Bullshit. Your first-ever assignment as partners went smoothly. He was to retrieve data on illegal B.O.W transports, observing for any kind of suspicious activity in the vicinity of Manhattan. You made a joke about New York and how the food wasn’t even that good for those prices. He snorted, giving you some credit for your originality, half tempted to ask how you knew before he spotted something. He gave you a short, to-the-point comment on what his next actions were.

You replied. “Don’t die when it’s my first day on the job, alright?”

Leon rolled his eyes. “Already thinking about the paycheck? That’s kinda fast.”

“How else am I gonna pay rent this month?” 

“Side job?”

“Don’t start.”

The next few months, he allowed himself to grow more amused with your antics, with your banter. You were funny. He had to admit it. Chatty, even. It impressed him how often you knew how to reply, firing comments of your own as if you were always loaded with something. 

You grew to be familiar. A calm voice that he didn’t know he could’ve used at that moment in time. 

Then you grew to be more than just a voice. A person who he missed when your shift ended, and he was alone at his desk, messy papers the only thing giving him company. A person he gravitated towards when he immediately saw your figure. Be it a gathering, a meeting, or simply seeing you during lunch, he found himself by your side. 

Leon liked it. He liked having this. He knew the word for it was friendship. You two acted as if you had been friends for years even though it was the complete opposite. You clicked so easily. 

That's what scared him the most. It petrified him down to his very core that this wasn't even the closest you could get to him. There were still more forks in the road, more paths you could take. A part of him froze at the idea of you pausing in front of the box of horrors he's encountered, opening it, only to be drowned by him, by his essence. As if he was Pandora's Box, and you would perish. 

Those burdens were almost impossible for him to carry. How would you react to what he saw in Raccoon? 

Leon glared into his bottle of whiskey as his thoughts rolled around like boulders in his head. He took a sip, allowing the alcohol to sting his throat. 

Had it really taken him this long to realize you were this precious to him? 

two and a half 

He dreamt about his mother and father that night, and it made him wonder if fate truly had it out for him. 

three

Leon's worst fears came to light when his fingers accidentally brushed against yours, igniting an inner feeling he recognized immediately. While you hadn't really reacted–maybe bashfully glanced down–it hit him fast and hard like a brick falling from the sky. He wouldn't mind holding your hand. He wouldn't mind doing a lot of things with you. Because it was you and you made him experience joy. Genuine joy. Something he thought would be nearly impossible for him to feel again. 

Maybe that’s why he’s scared. He truly can’t imagine doing anything without the ghost of you being there. How funny, what a human can do to another, how easily one could slip into his life, creating an asteroid-sized crater in his chest. 

However, despite that never-ending pit of fear, he remained the same on the outside. A contrast to what happened in his head. At least, he thought he continued to keep up the tough, stoic expression he managed to have all the time. 

You two were having a normal exchange. Talked about each other’s days, about upcoming missions packed into your schedules, and what you were having for dinner later (he almost asked you if he could join but stopped himself). But then, the atmosphere changed and suddenly you held a look of uneasiness. Now he was concerned. 

“Everything okay?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that.” 

Leon crossed his arms, his usual stance. “Nothing’s up besides the files we’ve been reading. Nasty shit, though I guess I can say I’ve seen worse.” He had. 

“No, not that.” You mimicked him, now crossing your own arms. He half wondered if you were doing it partly to mock him, but with how serious your tone was, that probably wasn’t the case. “You’ve been uneasy. As if you want to tell me something but you can’t.”

Come on. You can’t possibly read him that easily. “Nah.” He brushed your concern off, but he hated himself for it. For the way your face dropped. Of course, there were more things he could tell you, to plop in your lap, hoping you understood where he was coming from. “You’re cute for being concerned though.” Maybe that will turn your curious nose away for now.

“I’m cute?” You look baffled. “That’s a new one.” He could tell from the way you scoffed, turning your head to look anywhere else but at him, that got you. 

“I’m full of surprises.” 

“More like full of shit.” 

“Ouch.” 

“Still, back to what I was saying, I’m here to listen. I think you know that by now. I mean, I got wine at my place with your name on it.” 

Leon wrinkled his nose. He was never a wine guy, scotch was ragged and spiky when it went down his throat and he preferred that. “Inviting me over?”

“If you need it.” 

He almost took it. Almost. 

“Maybe some other time.” 

four

He caved when you asked again a few weeks later when he severely needed some form of alcohol after what he had been dragged into. 

You poured him a glass of wine, and he watched as red covered the glossy inside to almost full. “Thanks.”

You smiled, and something burned within him, it glowed red, overflowing like how lava does when it’s spewed from a volcano. This was more than just friendship now, your every action caused him to feel something, whether it was burning or just warm. You were warm. 

The wine made him feel sluggish, and vulnerable. He was only on his third glass before his brain was less rigid, slowly turning into mush. 

“You okay?” You laughed a little. “You look like you’re about to be sick.” You glanced at the wine bottle with knitted brows, scanning over the label. “I hope this hasn’t expired.”

Leon waved his hand at you. “No, wine just hits me a little harder than scotch does.”

“Is that why you never drink it? Or do you just like scotch so much?”

“I just like scotch, probably an unhealthy amount.” He smiled a little, cheeks pink from the alcohol. “Never been a wine guy, but today’s special.”

“Our government is running you ragged, Lee.” 

“Tell me about it. The main guy at the white house seems to really favor me now.” 

“Have you ever gone on vacation?”

“Nope.” 

“You should. I highly recommend it.”

He chuckled. “I got on vacation, and then what? I’m called on the second day. Perks of being the golden boy.”

Leon realized that under the influence, he was better at small talk. The fog around his brain prevented him from overthinking, allowing him to share his thoughts and his ideas. For once, he felt no burdens weighing on his shoulders. The world seemed less dark. 

Until he slipped a comment about Raccoon. 

“I was there.” He accidentally said, shutting his mouth immediately as you raised your eyebrows. You blinked, licking your lips in thought.

“You never told me that.” 

Well, now he could no longer avoid it. His trauma, his old wounds that were constantly reopened, were now somewhat spilled on the floor. The probability of you simply letting this go was zero. Leon sighed heavily, placing his wine glass on your kitchen counter. “It wasn’t really brought up. Well, maybe it was, but…I guess I was nervous about scaring you off.” 

“Scaring me off?” You held a hand to your hip, looking at him as if he was stupid, and suddenly he was whisked back to when you two first met, and you had given him that exact same look. “You know what we do for a living? The wine didn’t make you forget right?”

“Not in that sense,” Leon felt weird telling you this. Oddly confident. It was the wine–did he really only have three glasses? 

“Oh.” You got the hint almost immediately. He knew you would. He was searching your expression now, but he couldn’t read it. You were thinking, your forehead wrinkling. It was cute, downright adorable. 

He didn’t want to scare you off, because this was more than just friendship to him. 

“Didn’t think you were interested in me in that way.” You huffed. You bit the inside of your cheek, still thinking. You approached him, placing yourself in the seat next to him, the air now so warm it was hard to breathe. “Well, you can tell me about Raccoon City. You can tell me anything. Show me your scars, and I’ll show you mine.” You said it so sincerely, he had to be inclined to believe you. 

It was silly, how scared he was about his. He told you everything, and somehow later that night it led to you holding him close to your chest, fingers in his hair, heartbeat in his ear. 

A night so beautiful he actually cried. 

He thought back to the night when his childhood home burned. The night he willed the fire to diminish into smoke with just his eyes. 

You aren't alone anymore, kid. He thought, still feeling your fingers threading through his hair, through the darker roots. Not anymore. 

-

Tags:

@uhlunaro , @seraphiism , @izuniias , @honeyfict , @konigbabe , @mandalhoerian , @leonskillshot , @airanke , @tosuckmyweenis , @madeholyy , @toseetheworldinaworkofart , @unhealthy-leon-brainrot , @universal-imagines , @some-insomniac-writes , @i-can-sabotage-me-bi-myself , @muffimtv , @justonemore-fic

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 6

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger" Warnings lol: blood and violence <3

A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics

series masterlist

chapter 6: the masquerade

Was going through her sister’s phone unethical? Sure. Was this whole thing a huge fucking risk she shouldn’t be taking? Certainly. Was she doing it anyway?

Hell, yes, she was.

After going their separate ways, Osha turned over the half-promise she’d given the stranger two days ago. 

I’ll think about it.

It was a curse. Here, in the unforgiving clarity of Wednesday, she could think about nothing else. Training with someone who saw potential and value in her sounded better than heaven.

But he’d left her with no way to give him her answer. He told her he couldn’t risk stopping by the Temple as often as he had been. I am banned, you know.

That was how she justified this insanity. I have no way of getting through to him like normal, and Mae was the only person who regularly met with him. She’s the best bet for finding him. And besides, she’s been lying to me for two years; I deserve to be a little ethically questionable.

Even still, the air was thick with tension—but that could’ve just been steam from the shower.

None of the contacts she scrolled through looked like they fit the stranger. Would she even save his number in her phone? She checked the text threads next, her eyes entirely focused on the unsaved numbers. Perhaps resignation had her gliding past the threads with Sol, and the multiple group chats Mae was a part of—places where Osha didn’t belong.

She must have deleted his shit the second she cut ties with him.

Osha bit down hard on her lower lip to bury her frustration. Where else, where else…

NYAAAAA!

“Fucksake, Pip, don’t be a fucking narc,” she whispered, removing the kitten from the room and resuming her shady behavior.

Mae dropped a bottle in the shower, nearly sending Osha jumping out of the window in fright. It was a miracle she stayed quiet. She refocused, ignoring the slight tremble of her fingers. 

Oh shit, why didn’t she check there first?

She found the list of blocked numbers in Mae’s call records and, instead of screenshotting it and sending it to herself, took a picture of the screen with her phone. It was old school, but it left no trace.

One of these better be him.

Mae shut off the shower, and Osha quickly put her phone back where it had been and walked out of the room without looking back. She was jumpy through dinner, but since she and Mae still weren’t talking, she didn’t have to explain herself.

Afterward, she retreated to her room and performed a round of isometric poses to steady her nerves. It helped soothe the persistent ache in her leg immensely. The pleasant burn in her calf licked flames across where her ligaments usually felt brittle and iced over. Doing the exercises before bed was a double-edged sword: on one hand, she’d be warm and loose all night; on the other… it made her think of him.

The dreams left her feeling hotter than the exercises did.

What was it Mae said? You’re playing with fire? It certainly felt like it—but in this weather, she didn’t mind a bit of heat.

To temper her obsession a little, she gave herself only ten minutes to research each phone number from the photo. She quickly ruled out telemarketers, spam numbers, and various persons who wanted to contact Mae about her car’s extended warranty.

The last number on her list felt… different. It brought up zero results online, not even on a reverse number lookup. She’d been about to type it into her phone to send a probing text, but her ten minutes were up. She couldn’t get in over her head, lest the stranger consume too much of her life before she knew his name.

And what if this wasn’t even his number? She didn’t want to go to sleep disappointed if the gamble didn’t pan out. She saved the number in her phone as ? and tried not to think about it.

Everything seemed to have lost its shine on her next shift at the cafe. The coffee smelled stale, and she could not ignore her sticky hands like she used to. Every painful hour spent on her feet felt like an eternity. She needed something new.

She’d needed a lot of something new for a while now.

The silence between her and Mae continued at home. The next time family dinner rolled around, she excused herself. She only saw Sol and Mae at the Temple.

Even the classes Sol led felt off. Try as she might to put in maximum effort, she’d grown out of Sol’s tentative instruction. Her jabs landed harder on the heavy bags, some sounding like thunderclaps that split the empty air. Her legs itched to kick and thrash beneath her despite the backlash it would yield in the gym.

She even tried a few kicks on the bag in the apartment gym, which saw more of her the following week than in the last six months. What it didn’t see was the stranger.

The stranger had her fucked up. Big time.

She couldn’t rely on luck or coincidence when she wanted to see him anymore. Next time she got lucky, she promised herself, she would get his damn number at the very least.

“This is a shit idea,” Osha muttered to herself as she walked down the street. “You’re fucking nuts, Osha.”

She’d been so focused on watching out for black ice on the sidewalk that she didn’t see that the Unknown Planet neons were all off until she’d opened the front door halfway, finding nothing but pitch-black silence within.

Every light was off, save for one at the far wall from the door. Osha stepped back a little, letting the door fall shut. The operation hours stared back at her: moonrise to sunrise.

Under the perpetually overcast sky of winter, she couldn’t tell, but she was pretty sure it was a new moon. You can’t have a moonrise with no moon, she reasoned.

But then, why was the door still open?

Osha retrieved her can of bear spray from her backpack and flicked off the safety with her thumb. She entered the empty bar quietly, on cat-light feet. When the door closed behind her, the cacophony of the city changed to a stark, screeching silence. She didn’t dare move a muscle.

Her eyes acclimated to the darkness, her ears to the silence. Very faintly, she made out the sounds of raised voices, cheers, and jeers. She stayed alert as she crept around tables crowned with upturned chairs. She stopped to listen again when she reached the singular lit sconce at the end of the cavernous bar.

The noise had grown louder, but Osha could still hear the familiar ding-ding! of a match bell. Was there a boxing gym upstairs? Nobody at the Temple cheered that loud at the events hosted there.

A set of stairs she hadn’t seen a week ago led up to a steel door on a small landing. A tattooed and bored bouncer wasn’t looking down the staircase at her; instead, he was peering through the small window in the door, looking in on whatever was happening inside.

Osha pulled back into the darkness. What was she doing? She was in an unfamiliar area of the city, chasing down hope of seeing a guy whose name she didn’t know, and she had no way of knowing where her damned curiosity would take her. She thumbed off the safety on her bear spray but kept the tube tucked in her sleeve just in case.

The bouncer frowned as she walked up the stairs. Up close, she could see two matching cauliflower ears, a split lip, and neck tattoos—and explicit confirmation that he was built like a brick shithouse. Osha met his eyes anyway, saying nothing.

“You’re coming in pretty late, miss. Half the fights are already done.” His voice was as gravelly and deep as she imagined, but the politeness took her a little off guard.

She tried channeling Mae as she told a small lie. “I was told the wrong time.”

The bouncer looked her over with a more critical eye, grunting. “Well. Hope whoever told you gets their shit rocked tonight.”

He opened the door for her, and she was instantly hit with a wall of noise. Hot air, humid from effort and shouting, hit her next, followed by the scent of sweat—and a little bit of blood. She tugged her hood over her head as she walked in, embracing a bit of stifling heat in exchange for a concealed appearance. It was doubtful anybody here would recognize her, though.

Though the area was centrally lit to highlight the festivities, she could tell this wasn’t a boxing gym—a fighting gym, but not for any discipline she knew. What she thought were people standing on the wall turned out to be body-opponent bags lined up with military precision. All the equipment was set with evident respect and intentionality, not a thing out of place as far as she could tell.

And in the center of the room stood a cage.

She’d done some research into what he’d been talking about. She knew most MMA fights took place in a fenced-in open-air ring, but those rings never had a lid. The cage walls were pretty high, about twice the height of the average man. It seemed less like a fighting ring for humans and more like an inhumane, fucked-up snow globe full of violence.

Surrounding it was a crowd of around seventy-five people, bunched so close it almost seemed they were part of the platform. Three sets of bleachers held the rest of the observers, and a half-dozen more leaned on the rail of a balcony overlooking all at one end of the cavernous space.

Inside the cage, two men fought with wicked-looking spears—halberds, if she remembered correctly. The crack! of the shafts connecting jarred her from her drifting fugue, and Osha approached the crowd so she wouldn’t be seen as an outsider and garner unwanted attention.

Was this where the stranger trained and fought? It had to be—one of the fighters slashed the other across the chest in a small spray of blood. Instead of crying out or screaming, the injured competitor groaned in frustration over the sound of mixed cheering and grumbling. It was the single most confusing reaction to violence she’d ever seen.

She got closer despite her self-preservation screaming otherwise. The heady scent of spilled blood hung in the air like incense, and this brutal, lawless place suddenly felt more sacredly profane than anywhere else she’d ever been. This was no church or temple, but it was powerfully holy nonetheless. 

Osha found a place for herself in the stands.

As the previous fighters left the cage and melted away into the locker rooms, two more took their place. The announcer, a tall, pale man with spindly old-man arms, called their names like a pro wrestling emcee. Some matches had both fighters wielding weapons; others only had one weapon thrown in the middle to be fought over for advantage. Very few matches were unarmed, and when they were, it was indescribably brutal to see. The rules of engagement became clear in one of those bare-knuckle fights:

First blood wins the bout but doesn’t stop it—only the timer, submission, or unconsciousness did. Only one submission happened during the night, and when it had, the crowd was in an uproar, near-humiliating the poor soul who didn’t want his shoulder dislocated.

It seemed that for legal purposes, some holds were barred here.

She traded off between watching the fight and watching the audience, and she couldn’t tell who was more bloodthirsty.

After about an hour of fights, some unspoken signal rippled through the crowd. All at once, a hush fell over the entire space, reverent as a moment of benediction.

“For our final match,” the announcer called, “we have moved away from spears and swords to return to Pure! NHB! Fighting!” The crowd joined in his excitement, rattling the old aluminum seats beneath her. A quick glance at the balcony showed it empty. 

“—I’ve got eighty on White-Top tonight.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Smiley can’t win every time.”

Osha listened in on the conversation beside her, keeping her eyes on the announcer grandstanding at the center of the ring. He vamped while two expedient workers squeegeed off the blood from the floor mat.

“If you’re still betting on that, you’re welcome to lose your money. The thing place worth placing bets on is in the inner-ring particulars.”

“Like what?”

“—bring you eight of the finest fighters this gym has to offer! In one corner, the rookie in yellow—”

“—Who goes down first, who does Smiley take down first—”

“The Dizzykid!”

“—and how long it’ll take to put ‘em down.”

Mild applause started as a shirtless man bounced into the ring. He did a hopping lap before settling against one of the corners. Rookie confidence, Osha’s fighting mind said. The yellow balaclava he wore looked fucking nasty, half stained with old blood. The two gamblers beside her spoke in unison.

“He’s going down first.”

She probably shouldn’t have laughed. She’d done her best not to draw attention to herself for the last hour of fights, but at the unanimous and bored condemnation of the Dizzykid, she couldn’t help herself. Luckily, the gamblers didn’t seem to hear it; even if they did, they didn’t care.

The announcer spoke through the rest of the introductions, men and women fighting in one bout together. Most of the contenders were fresh to this competition, but many bore scars that must have come from previous fights like the ones she saw before.

They all had ridiculous names, too: Dizzykid, White-Top, and a handful of others she didn’t care remembering.

The final two were introduced as repeat champions from the month before. The penultimate fighter, who wore a purple hood, was called Daybreak. She looked well-sunken into her role in the ring, all quiet confidence and restrained power.

“Daybreak was one of our two-left-standing last month and will get to defend her name and title just like her final counterpart: your nine-month reigning champion here to make it ten, the undefeated, the terrifying, SMILEY!”

The eighth fighter walked into the cage, and it instantly felt like she’d gone into freefall. Distantly, as if underwater, she could hear the crowd going wild for him. The seven fighters in the ring were already honed to precision, each beautiful and strong, but this one was heart-stopping. She clung to one solid second of denial before accepting the truth of who those huge, beefy biceps belonged to—

That was her stranger in the mask.

He wore a black balaclava. Stitched in silver to make a horrifying toothy smile, Smiley’s moniker was straightforward.

God, she hoped Smiley wasn’t his real name.

“Welcome, gentlemen—welcome, ladies.” The announcer addressed them directly, shifting from entertainer to referee. Osha did not need to strain to hear him speak because the room had gone quiet as a crypt in respect and anticipation.

The rules were simple: 30 minutes on the clock, eliminations by knockout, submission, or heavy injury.

“When you hear this whistle—” he blew a whistle four times.  “You will grab the cage with both hands and stand still until we drag out the fallen. When you hear this bell—” Ding! “The fight resumes. If you make it to the final two, congrats. If you don’t, it’s not my problem. Now: Fighters!” He blew his whistle four times.

Sixteen hands found the fence.

The announcer left the ring.

The crowd’s excitement built.

And when the bell went off—

Chaos.

Four of the fresh fighters descended on the stranger, hunting the biggest game in the cage. Osha watched in awe as he leaped straight into the air and grabbed the top of the cage. Two of the fighters whiffed their punches beneath him, and he came down right on top of them.

There were probably other things happening in the cage, but she could only watch him.

Brash and eager, the Dizzykid went down first, knocked out by the kick to the face the stranger gave him. White-Top went down next. One of the gamblers beside her groaned. Osha grinned.

The stranger was a blur in the cage, all his punches and kicks coming too fast for her to track at times. When he paused, facing away from her, her breath stuck in her throat at the sight of the thick, purple-white scar tissue slicing across his back. It made more sense now: why he was so dedicated to injury recovery and proper form.

Wouldn’t you, if you had your back broken in four places?

Her chance at melancholic reverie passed as her stranger continued to put down his remaining opponents. The other two had gone after Daybreak—if she went down, they might make it to the cage next month.

The bubbling energy of the crowd was infectious, and Osha gave in to the temptation to get a little reckless, joining the cheers. “Let’s go, Smiley! Put ‘em the fuck down!”

The stranger froze mid-swing.

Fortunately for him, the ref blew his whistle four times right then, and the fight paused.

Unfortunately for her, the stranger stalked to the closest fence near Osha. He held onto it but pressed closer, forehead against the chain links. He’s looking for me. The other fighters faced inward, but not him, readying themselves for the fight ahead.

His eyes blazed with heat as he scanned the crowd. He was like a rabid animal, an overheated gun, a bloody, jagged edge digging deep wherever he wanted to cut. When he found her, she felt it in her bones. She raised a hand and gave a cheeky wave, smiling.

He tilted his head to the side before sticking his fingers through the fence, waving as much as possible.

The body haulers left the ring.

The cage door closed behind them.

The stranger was still not looking away—

Ding!

The stranger took less than fifteen seconds to put down the remaining rookies, leaving him and Daybreak standing. The crowd rippled with unease. Even Daybreak seemed baffled, staggering a few steps back from the sudden total violence.

The stranger returned to where he’d been standing fifteen seconds before, pressing his face fully against the fence like Osha was nothing but inches away from him.

The crowd around her was stunned. “How’d he do that so fast?”

“Smiley is just playing with his food whenever the fights go longer than five minutes, isn’t he?”

“I think his first fight lasted eight.”

“How long was this? I can’t see the—”

“Three minutes?! What the—”

“Five takedowns tonight? Daybreak looks like she just shit her trunks.”

“Nah, Smiley respects her too much to—”

“I don’t think Smiley even looked her way tonight.”

Osha could feel eyes on her, but she didn’t look at them. She was still staring at the stranger. As the last bodies were dragged out of the cage, he drifted backward to the center for the results. After they were announced, he said something to the emcee, who nodded but didn’t seem surprised.

Daybreak and Smiley disappeared when they left the cage, and the crowd dispersed to mingle or otherwise leave. To avoid the curious stares, Osha found a dark corner to stand in. She’d become damn near nose-blind to the scent of blood, but the sight of it being squeegeed off the mats was still slightly morbid.

Someone approached her hiding spot.

“Are you Osha?”

It was the announcer. This close, he loomed—even taller than the stranger. Only then did she remember the bear spray in her sleeve.

“Who’s asking?”

“You can call me Mr. Wise. Smiley asked for you.” She could see the glint in his eyes. He was dangerous but in a different way than her stranger. “Will you come with me?”

Alarm bells rang like hell in her head, but she chose to dance along to the tune. “Lead the way.”

Mr. Wise led her to a small door near where she’d come in; stairs led to the level above and the bar below. It smelled more like cigarettes than blood in here. “Just up there. The black door at the end.” Then he left her alone.

At the end of the long, twisting flight of stairs, Osha found... dressing rooms? The landing she stood on was connected to a hall of doors, as well as an open archway to access the balcony from before. The doors she passed matched the balaclavas of the cage fighters: yellow, white, blue… and black at the end of the hall.

The first six doors were open and empty, but the black and purple doors for Smiley and Daybreak were closed. The second she stood before the black door, it swung inward, and there he was.

He’d taken off the mask. His hair was damp from the shower he must have taken, and some of it was twisted back out of his face with little fasteners, just like the night she met him. The body heat radiating off of him was felt even standing out there in the hall. It’d been six days since she last saw him, and the bright smile he gave her had her insides scrambling around like a game of musical chairs. Six days, and he still looked just as good as he did in her memory.

“Osha.”

His eyes burned with a fire she knew well—the last time she felt it, she’d been given a great shiny trophy and belt. Her stranger’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and she spotted the darkening bruise forming on his jaw. The cut on his cheek from several days ago had healed, and the bruise around it had faded from a red-purple to a pale yellow-green. One bruise out, one bruise in. That was the price of fighting.

“Tell me your name isn’t really Smiley,” Osha blurted out.

His smile widened. “I’m only Smiley sometimes. Come in; I was doing cooldown.”

He opened the door wider for her to come in. His dressing room was sparse but not gross like the others she’d seen in the hall. After all, this room had been solely his for the last ten months. She spotted a few things she recognized on the small table: the black hoodie, backpack, and glasses. Hanging off two small clips was the mask he’d worn to fight, dripping wet.

She approached it curiously. “It’s a little freaky, isn’t it?” she said over her shoulder.

“I didn’t choose it.”

She turned to look at him. He was in a pair of low-hanging sweatpants, barefoot. Red blotches bloomed across his body, lucky shots while he made felling blows. He was holding his hands over his head, stretching his biceps, triceps, and other muscle groups that looked too good for her to think straight. He stood very still for her while she looked at him, and a little zing of pride and power zipped down her spine.

“But… I have to win it again every time I wear it.”

She didn’t know what to say when she met his eyes again, her gaze snapping up from where it had drifted to the waistband of his sweats. He was smirking a little. Caught.

He moved them away from the potentially awkward silence by sitting on a yoga mat and resuming his cool-down stretches. She took a seat on the only chair in the room.

“How’d you hear about the fights?” he asked, falling into a deep stretch. His flexibility shouldn’t have set her heart to stutter, but she’d never seen a man go so deep in her life. The scars on his back stood out in sharp relief from this angle, and this close, she could see that they were a mix of traumas: surgery and injury twisted over themselves in a snarling knot with no end.

It’s what her ankle looked like.

“I, uh, didn’t,” she said after a few seconds of silence. He turned his head to peek an eye at her. Go on. “I didn’t even know there was a gym. I just wanted to go to the bar, but the lights were off.”

“And you just went in?”

“The door was open. And…” She pulled the bear spray out of her sleeve and showed it to him before putting it in her bag. “I wasn’t without protection.”

“Smart girl.”

She nearly choked on air but quickly recovered. When her bag was zipped, she crossed her legs and cleared her throat. “You don’t live in the city this long and feel safe without a can of bear spray,” she said.

“You could carry an actual weapon.”

“I’d prefer not to.”

“Why?”

“I’d probably hurt myself before I hurt anybody else.”

He released the pose and adjusted his grip to stretch his feet and ankles. She recognized the different stretch combinations he was doing—she did them every night before bed. Her mind threatened to teeter into that can of worms, but he pulled her out of it.

“Don’t count yourself out, Osha. What’d I tell you? You’re a lion.” When he gave a breathy laugh and showed her his languid smile, she recognized more than the exercises—she saw more of herself in him than anticipated. His goofy grin wasn’t just part of a conjured persona. This was how he truly smiled when he hit that fighter’s high. It was how she smiled.

“I didn’t mean to distract you earlier.”

He laughed at the half-apology, pulling his feet in for a groin stretch. He tugged his shorts up his thighs for better flexibility, and he watched her reaction from the corner of his eye. His expression said, now, who’s distracted?

“You didn’t distract me,” he said, giving her a break and looking down. You surprised me, sure. I thought I got my bell rung and was hearing what I wanted.” He leaned into the stretch, groaning softly at the deeper burn. “I was glad to see you,” he said tightly. She wondered how much of it was from muscle strain and how much was from emotion.

Her heart galloped behind her ribs. Hearing him speak like that, make sounds like that—god, she was in trouble. She took a shuddering breath and held it to try and get her shit together, but it only half-worked.

“I was glad to see you, too.” She could only see a sliver of his face, but she saw him smile. “I liked, uh, seeing you fight. I’d been wondering about it for a while.”

“Oh, I’ve been on your mind?” he smirked at her, but his expression wasn’t remotely malicious.

“Can you blame me?”

The stranger seemed pleased with her answer, a shared refrain from several conversations together. He released the stretch and rolled seamlessly onto his back, holding one knee to his chest. He lolled his head to the side to look at her, self-satisfied. “Why did you come to the bar tonight, Osha?”

He was going to make her say it. Bastard.

“Well, Yord hasn’t broken the espresso machine, and you said you weren’t coming around anyway. You haven’t been at the apartment gym, and I couldn’t find anything about you on the internet to track you down. You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know.”

“I know.”

“So the last place I knew you might be�� was here. Well, downstairs.”

He nodded, idly tracing his thumb over his kneecap. It was distracting. “You’ve been looking for me, then?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Damnit, hadn’t she said enough for him? He blinked at her, lazy as a cat but twice as sharp.

Fuck it.

“I wanted to see you.”

He made a pleased noise, switching to hold his other leg. He settled into the stretch, breathing slowly like he was savoring those five words he’d dragged past her lips. “Have you thought about my offer?”

She supposed she’d gotten what she wanted. If she was pursuing him this hard, she had her answer. Why did she go looking for him? She wanted to see him. Why did she want to see him? Because she wanted to train—or perhaps another reason she wasn’t being honest with herself about.

He released his leg and sat up fluidly, kneeling before her. He rested both hands on his thighs and tilted his head to the side, considering her openly. Messy-haired, skin still bright and flushed from the fight, kneeling on the floor, he looked penitent, beseeching.

“What do you want, Osha?”

“In order?”

“If you wish.” His lips twitched, suppressing a smile.

She held up three fingers, ticking them off one by one. “In order: I want your number, I want a drink, and I want you to train me.”

CHAPTER 7

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Saving a miracle is a lot and comes at a hefty price. Good thing nobody warned Mirabel ahead of time, wouldn’t want her to be able to consider what she’s doing before making rash decisions.

Vaguely inspired by @yellowcry’s Cursed Gifts AU.

And I’m Asking, “Why, Lord?”

Mirabel and Bruno sit in a circle with one or two of Antonio’s capybaras that couldn’t be convinced to move for a moment. Antonio, and the rest of his animal friends, had given them space to do what they needed to do - playing by the waterfall in his room. The candle between them flickers as Bruno reads from a book. It looks ancient, practically falling apart in his hands.

As the room shakes, Mirabel wrings her hands anxiously. “We might want to hurry,” she prompts.

Bruno chuckled at her. “You can’t rush magic, kid.”

“I know, it’s just…” she doesn’t actually have anything to say that isn’t obvious. She takes a breath, trying to calm down. “I would never forgive myself if something happened to my family.”

“I can relate to that. You try to help your family by giving visions to the town and then all you hear is ‘Bruno’s creepy and his vision killed my goldfish’.” He paused, waiting for her to laugh, but the only reaction he got was some confusion. He shrugged. “And, I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve done this. Who knows if it will even work.”

“You are telling me this now?” She demanded.

“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Antonio. He seems like a nice kid, he shouldn’t have to be caught up in all,” he gestured, “this.”

They had told Antonio it was a vision. Just an innocent vision. Not some crazy ritual to let dead Pedro Madrigal interact with them and advise them on how to save the miracle. Absolutely not. That would be insane.

Finally, Bruno set the book aside. He struck a match, lighting each of the piles of dry leaves that surrounded their family candle. The flame was still flickering occasionally, but there had been no new cracks in the last few hours if that was a consolation.

The light began to fade from the room, the winds picking up around them.

“Wait,” Mirabel said, eyebrow raised. “You mentioned something about an offering? We don’t have that.”

“We do.” Bruno replied.

“Do we?” She asked.

The flames died out over the leaves. Their candle remained, faintly glowing as the room got darker still.

Mirabel couldn’t see anything. She hadn’t been entirely sure what an offering meant - what did one give their dead grandfather anyways? Perhaps there had been something in the circle and she had just missed it. The book, its forgotten language and religion, made no sense to her. She had to put her trust in her Tío.

The room was wrapped in darkness.

There was nothing for a moment. No movement, no sound.

Nothing.

She turns to where she thinks Bruno is, curiously. “Did... did it work?”

There isn’t an answer.

“Tío Bruno?” She tries.

She jumps when something cold grasps at her shoulder, she screams. Turning and scrambling away, she sees it is a hand. Discoloured and stained in dirt and blood. In fact, the whole body is. A rotting corpse. Through the partly decomposed head, she can make out the face of her Abuelo that hangs over the bottom of the stairs. He looks identical but also nothing like his portrait.

“Are.. are you Abuelo Pedro?” She manages to brave herself to question the figure.

The lips curve upwards in acknowledgment and he cackles loudly at her. His haunting voice echoes around the room (the space?)— wherever they are. It rings in her head and her eardrums burn in discomfort.

“Of course, you silly, little girl. You haven’t summoned any other dead bodies to chat with, have you?”

She hesitantly shakes her head - though technically she hasn’t summoned any at all. Bruno summoned him, she was just there. But, to be fair, there is no way Pedro could have known that.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

Freezing, she stares at him in horror.

Mirabel shakes herself, “Tío Bruno said that you could help me.. that you could help save our miracle?”

“Why, yes, I can definitely help. I could help save the miracle for you. But why should I? I’m not the one disturbing the dead for my own selfish gain.”

That catches her off guard. It isn’t selfish, she is doing it for her family. To save them, to help them. Anybody would in her place—

“Lie to yourself all you want, Mirabel, but you can’t lie to me. You want this for yourself. You want to be loved, instead of kept on the sidelines forever?”

She has nothing to say.

Tears welling in her eyes because she knows it’s true. She wants that for herself, just as much as she wants to help her family.

“I will help you with saving our precious miracle, in exchange for the offering.”

He steps closer, menacingly tall compared to her, especially when she’s cowering on the ground before him.

“I don’t have anything, I’m sorry,” she admits. “Tío Bruno said he would handle the offering. I had no idea what it meant or what he will give to you. You would have to ask him.”

There’s another painfully loud cackle.

His cold hand reaches for her, dirty nails grasping into the skin of her cheek. Almost pulling her body off the ground in the process.

“You stupid girl, what do you think you’re here for?”

Her heart stops. “..What?”

“You’re the offering.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth and process themself in her brain, she pulls away from him, stumbling to her feet and attempting to run. There is nowhere for her to go. She’s trapped. Long before her wrist is caught in the dead man’s hold, yanking her back to him like he’s stronger than Luisa and she’s nothing more than some worthless ragdoll.

She is shaking with fear, his hand ghosting over her face and wiping tears.

“The one child that slipped from the miracle’s hand, completely untouched,” he muses to himself, admiring the offering; the prey. “The magic hasn’t hurt you like it has done the others, it doesn’t seem fair to leave you that way, doesn’t it? After all… you did so badly want to belong, didn’t you?”

[taekookpassion]

The Temptation Game (Chapter 10)

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Chapter Title : Breakdown Warnings for Readers Emotional distress Themes of unrequited love Mild language Small Summary In this chapter, Jungkook grapples with the emotional fallout from his unresolved relationship with Y/N. The weight of rejection and longing consumes him as he navigates their tension-filled encounters at school. Word Count : 2690 words

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The following days dragged on like a storm cloud hanging heavily above Jungkook’s head. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of rejection that clung to him, making every moment they spent together feel like a delicate balancing act.

At school, whispers of the library incident had faded, but the weight of their unresolved tension lingered between him and Y/N. Despite the space she suggested, it felt more suffocating than ever.

He would catch glimpses of her in the hallways, laughing with her friends, and a mix of emotions surged through him—longing, anger, and jealousy. Why couldn’t she see how much he wanted her? It felt like she was dancing around him, teasing him with their past intimacy while denying him the closeness he craved.

One afternoon, as he made his way to the cafeteria, he spotted Y/N sitting at a table with her friends. His heart raced at the sight of her, but the tension coiling in his chest reminded him of their recent argument. He hesitated, the urge to turn around overwhelming.

“Hey, Jungkook! Come sit with us!” one of her friends called out, waving him over.

He glanced at Y/N, who looked away, her face turning slightly red. That tiny reaction ignited something primal in him—a desire to claim her, to remind her of what they shared.

But he forced himself to remain composed, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing him falter. “I’m good, thanks,” he replied, keeping his voice steady as he walked past the table, feeling her gaze on him like a burning flame.

As he grabbed his lunch, the cafeteria buzzed with conversations, but all he could hear were the echoes of his and Y/N’s argument. Every time he tried to bridge the gap between them, she seemed to pull away, and he was done playing this game.

After lunch, he decided to confront her directly. As he approached her locker, he noticed her chatting with her friends, her laughter ringing like music to his ears, yet it made his heart ache. He cleared his throat, drawing her attention away from her friends.

“Y/N, can we talk?” he asked, his voice steady but firm.

She exchanged glances with her friends, who quickly excused themselves, leaving them alone in the hallway. The air was thick with unspoken words, and he could see the hesitation in her eyes.

“Jungkook, I—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, feeling the tension build within him. “I’m tired of the back and forth. I can’t keep pretending like everything is fine when it’s not. I want to know what you really want.”

She bit her lip, her expression faltering. “I just think we need to take it slow. It’s a lot to process.”

“Slow? Is that really what you want?” he challenged, stepping closer, invading her space. “Because it feels like you’re just pushing me away. I’m done with this game. I want you, Y/N. All of you. Not just bits and pieces when it’s convenient.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, he thought he saw something flicker in her eyes—a glimmer of understanding, perhaps a hint of desire. But it quickly faded, replaced by uncertainty.

“You don’t understand how hard it is for me,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I get lost in you, and it scares me.”

“Scares you?” he echoed, incredulous. “You’re scared of being with me after everything we’ve shared? After all those kisses?”

“I don’t want to rush into something I’m not ready for!” she protested, her voice rising slightly.

He stepped back, feeling the sting of her words. “So what am I supposed to do? Just wait around for you to figure it out? I’ve tried being patient, but it’s killing me, Y/N!”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and Jungkook felt his heart drop. He hadn’t meant to push her to the brink. “I just need time,” she pleaded, her voice cracking. “I need to feel comfortable again.”

“Comfortable?” he repeated, disbelief etched on his face. “You’re the one who keeps pushing me away. Every time I try to get close, you shut me down!”

She reached out, but he stepped back instinctively, not wanting her to feel like she could placate him. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but I can’t keep doing this either. It hurts too much.”

Y/N’s hands fell to her sides, and she looked away, defeated. “Maybe…maybe we should just take a break from each other.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. “A break?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “Is that what you really want?”

“I just need space to figure things out,” she said, her voice steady but filled with sorrow.

“Fine,” he replied, his heart heavy. “But don’t expect me to wait around forever.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, the weight of her words pressing down on him. As he made his way through the crowded hallways, his mind was a storm of emotions—anger, sadness, and a deep yearning that wouldn’t fade.

Days passed, and Jungkook tried to focus on his classes, on anything but the aching void Y/N’s absence left in his heart. He noticed her in the hallways, laughing and chatting with her friends, and the sight only made his heart ache more.

But he refused to be the one who chased after her. The temptation to pull her close, to remind her of the connection they had, was strong, but he held back. Every time they crossed paths, he felt that familiar urge bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.

One evening, unable to bear the pain any longer, Jungkook decided to confront his feelings head-on. He found himself at his favorite spot, a small park near their school, where they used to spend hours together. The memories flooded back, and for the first time, he allowed himself to think about what he truly wanted.

He wanted her. All of her. The intimacy, the connection, the closeness. And no amount of space could change that.

Jungkook sat on the park bench, the twilight casting a golden hue over the horizon, but all he could see were the memories of Y/N flooding his mind. He remembered the way she laughed, the soft brush of her fingers against his skin, the warmth of her breath as she whispered secrets under the stars.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration boiling beneath the surface. He felt like a caged animal, desperate to break free and express the whirlwind of emotions within him. Jungkook had never been one to shy away from his feelings, but this time, he was struggling to find the words.

Taking a deep breath, he decided he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to speak to her, to make her understand that his feelings ran deeper than mere physical attraction. The ache in his chest only grew stronger as he thought of her.

Later that evening, he found her at home, her room lit softly by fairy lights. Y/N was sitting at her desk, surrounded by textbooks, her brow furrowed in concentration. The sight of her—focused and determined—made his heart swell and sink at the same time.

“Y/N,” he called softly, stepping inside. She looked up, surprise flickering in her eyes.

“Jungkook! What are you doing here?” she asked, a mix of curiosity and wariness in her tone.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice steady, though his heart raced.

“Is it about… us?” she asked, biting her lip, a hint of anxiety in her expression.

“Yes. I want to clear the air.” He took a step closer, feeling the distance between them. “I need you to understand something.”

“Okay…” she replied, sitting back in her chair, her posture tense.

“Everything that’s been happening between us, it’s not just physical for me,” he said, searching her eyes for any flicker of understanding. “I care about you—really care. It’s not just about the kisses or the touches. I want more than that. I want you in my life.”

Y/N’s expression shifted, and he could see the conflict within her. “Jungkook, I…I don’t want to get tangled up in a physical relationship. It’s not what I’m looking for right now.”

“Not looking for? But what we have—it’s special.... not physical,” he insisted, desperation creeping into his voice. “We connect in ways I’ve never felt before.”

She shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. “I appreciate that, but I need to focus on my career. I have goals, dreams I want to achieve, and I can’t get sidetracked by… by whatever this is between us.”

His heart dropped. “So that’s it? You’re just going to push me away because you think it’s just physical?”

“It’s not that simple, Jungkook!” she snapped, her eyes flashing with frustration. “I can’t afford to lose focus. I need to be serious about my future.”

“Your future?” he repeated incredulously. “What about us? What about how I feel about you?”

“Feelings don’t matter when you’re trying to build something for yourself,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly. “I can’t afford to get distracted by romance. I need to stay focused.”

Jungkook felt a surge of anger at her words. “You think this is just a distraction for me? You think I’m playing games? I’m not some guy looking for a fling, Y/N! I want you.”

“And what if I’m not ready?” she countered, her voice breaking slightly. “What if I can’t give you what you want? I can’t promise you anything right now.”

His chest tightened, the weight of her rejection pressing down on him. “So you’d rather just cut me out completely than figure things out together?”

She looked away, her gaze fixed on the wall, a pained expression crossing her face. “I need to take care of myself first, Jungkook. I can’t get caught up in something that might hold me back.”

“Then what about us?” he asked, feeling the desperation creeping into his tone. “I can help you, Y/N. We can work through this together. But I need to know you want this too.”

“I do want to be with you,” she whispered, finally meeting his gaze, “but not right now. I’m scared of losing myself in this, and I can’t let that happen.”

The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken words and feelings that hung like a fog in the air. Jungkook took a step back, the distance between them feeling insurmountable.

“Then maybe you need to figure things out on your own,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, but it cracked slightly at the end.

“Jungkook…” she started, but he shook his head.

“No, Y/N. You’re right. You need to focus on your goals. But I can’t keep pretending this doesn’t hurt me. I’ll be here when you’re ready, but I can’t wait forever..... I just can't..... Please understand my feelings.....”

With that, he turned and left, feeling the weight of her gaze on his back as he walked away.

The night felt colder than before, and with each step, he felt a part of him breaking. He wanted to scream, to shout at the universe for throwing them into this tangled mess of emotions. He wanted her, needed her, but if she didn’t want him in the same way, what could he do?

As he rode his motorbike home, the roar of the engine echoed the turmoil in his heart. The temptation to reach out, to chase after her, felt overwhelming, but he knew he had to let her go, at least for now.

He was done with the games; he wanted her heart, not just her body. But if she couldn’t see that, he would have to wait for the day she would.

****

As Jungkook slammed the door to his room, the familiar four walls suddenly felt like a prison. The chaos inside his heart mirrored the storm brewing in his mind. He sank down onto his bed, burying his face in his hands, the tears streaming down his cheeks as the weight of rejection crashed over him like a tidal wave.

“When did I fall this deep for her?” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper against the thick silence of the room. “When? When? WHEN?!” The frustration surged within him, an uncontrollable force that threatened to tear him apart.

“AAAAHHHH!” he screamed, the sound echoing off the walls, reverberating through his soul. It felt as if the very air around him had turned suffocating. “Why can’t she understand my pain? Why?” His chest heaved with the intensity of his emotions, each breath feeling like a burden.

He loved her. He loved her so damn much. It was like an addiction—one he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried. Every touch, every fleeting moment they shared was like a drug coursing through his veins, igniting a fire in his heart that he couldn’t extinguish. “She’s like my addiction that I can’t hold myself back from. That’s why I always satiate myself with those little touches…”

But she didn’t see it that way. To her, it was all just physical—a series of moments without meaning, a game he played to fulfill some carnal desire. The thought twisted like a knife in his gut. “But she… she’s saying I’m so physical…”

Overcome with rage and despair, Jungkook leapt to his feet, his emotions boiling over. He swept his arm across his desk, sending books and papers crashing to the floor. The sound of crashing objects was nothing compared to the storm inside him. “Why can’t she see what this is doing to me?!” he shouted, his voice breaking with the weight of his heartache.

He moved around the room like a whirlwind, his hands shaking with raw energy. Jungkook threw open his closet, tossing clothes onto the floor, the chaos mirroring his shattered thoughts. He wanted to scream at the world, to let everyone know how much she meant to him, but all that came out was anger and frustration.

Finally, he collapsed onto his bed, tears soaking into the sheets. The sobs wracked his body, each one tearing him apart a little more. “I love her… a lot…” he gasped, the words barely leaving his lips before he was consumed by another wave of grief.

The darkness of the room felt heavier now, filled with the echoes of his broken heart. He punched the mattress in frustration, as if trying to drive the pain from his body. “I just wanted her to understand… to see how deep my feelings for her.... the love I hold for her…”

Jungkook lay back, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts a jumbled mess of love and anguish. He remembered every moment they had spent together, the laughter, the stolen kisses, the way she had looked at him with those bright, sparkling eyes. Each memory was a dagger, twisting deeper with the realization that she was pulling away.

“If only she could see…” he mumbled, his voice thick with tears. “If only she could feel what I feel…”

But as the night wore on, he knew that he couldn’t force her to understand. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but he had to respect her wishes, even if it felt like a part of him was dying inside. “I can’t keep fighting for something she doesn’t want…”

His emotions surged again, and he let out a muffled shout into his pillow, hoping to drown out the anguish that seemed to echo in every corner of his mind.

The darkness felt overwhelming, but Jungkook knew he had to find a way through it. He couldn’t let this break him, even if it felt like it was tearing him apart. He had to be strong, not just for himself but for Y/N, even if it meant stepping back from the very thing he craved the most.

With a heavy heart and a broken spirit, he finally closed his eyes, letting exhaustion wash over him. Tomorrow would come with its own challenges, but for now, he allowed himself to feel the pain, to embrace the chaos of his emotions as he fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of a girl he loved more than words could say.

To be continued.....

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[acourtofantumbra]

Where Have All the Dragons Gone?

☆ All SJM spoilers: ACOTAR, CC, and TOG ☆

It's been quite a while since I put my SJM tin foil hat... I've got the attention span of a squirrel and moved onto other things.

Anyway, over the past 3-4 months I decided to start my first true re-read of all of SJM's books while a bunch of my friends were beginning the series for the first time. This week I finished Crescent City (just in time for my insanely beautiful Fairyloot editions to show up 1/2 a year later) and plan on moving onto TOG this week... but I have so, so, so many scenes that have been bothering me that I fully skimmed over in my first reads.

This scene above from HOSAB, chapter 46, with Ariadne has been fueling my intrusive thoughts lately. On my first read of CC2 I was so distracted by that insane ending that I could probably sum up my thoughts about Ariadne as "Well, that felt like a waste of time?" But upon further review (and now having read TOG in its entirety as well)... I'm starting to feel like she might be one of the most easter egg laden chess pieces placed on the board.

Per usual, I don't really have answers as much as I have some glaring parallels that feel important... But ultimately I think our "long, lost dragons" are not so lost and have been waiting patiently to enter the chat.

Ok, let's go back to the (extended) scene from HOSAB:

“Exactly,” Flynn said, as if the Fae lord weren’t taunting a dragon. A fucking dragon. A Lower, yes, but … fuck. They weren’t true shifters, switching between humanoid and animal bodies at will. They were more like the mer, if anything. There was a biological or magical difference to explain it—Ithan vaguely remembered learning about it in school, though he’d promptly forgotten the details.  It didn’t matter now, he supposed. The dragon could navigate two forms. He’d be a fool to underestimate her in this one.  The dragon stared Flynn down. He gave her a charming smile back. Her chin lifted. “Ariadne.” Flynn arched a brow. “A dragon named Ariadne?”  “I suppose you have a better name for me?” she shot back.  “Skull-Crusher, Winged Doom, Light-Eater.” Flynn ticked them off on his fingers.  She snorted, and the hint of amusement had Ithan realizing that the dragon was … beautiful. Utterly lethal and defiant, but—well, damn. From the gleam in Flynn’s eyes, Ithan could tell the Fae lord was thinking the same. Ariadne said, “Such names are for the old ones who dwell in their mountain caves and sleep the long slumber of true immortals.” “But you’re not one of them?” Ithan asked.   “My kin are more … modern.” Her gaze sharpened on Flynn. “Hence Ariadne.”  Flynn winked. She scowled.  “How did all of you”—Declan cut in, motioning to Ariadne, her body similar to that of a Fae female’s—“fit into that tiny ring?”  “We were bespelled by the Astronomer,” Sasa whispered. “He’s an ancient sorcerer—don’t let him deceive you with that feeble act. He bought us all, and shoved us into those rings to light the way when he descends into Hel. Though Ariadne got put into the ring by …” She trailed off when the dragon cut her a scathing, warning look. HOSAB, Chapter 46

It needs to be said, the difference between magical beings feels like it has only barely scraped the surface at the end of CC2 and I have not one clue how Sarah is finally gonna break all that shit down for us. But during my reread I finally got really into the Mer plot for this exact reason as well... clearly quite a bit going on there. Also... with the sprites magic not being first light-based??? Ok, back to the task at hand.

So Ariadne is identified as a dragon, which according to the front of both Crescent City books, is part of the House of Flame and Shadow. Perhaps our most controversial collection of beings in the CC world, our Slytherin house lol.

But, according to Ariadne herself, there is a difference between the kind of dragon shifter she is and a dragon that is a true immortal... and allegedly sleeping in a cave somewhere?! —> remember this. Ok, so what is a true immortal? Aren't the Vanir and fae immortal for the most part?

Well, we've been getting corrections through SJM's series that there is a difference between long-lived, which is what the fae and Vanir are, and true immortals.

Particularly in the ACOTAR series we've had Death Gods explain the difference between their true immortality aka "[they have] no death awaiting them." And suspiciously, the Bone Carver claims that his sister, the Weaver, is not only truly immortal, but she's found a way to "eat life itself" so that's remains youthful. Interesting... can think of around 6 folks allegedly able to do that in Crescent City, but I digress.

So true dragons — the ancient ones — seem to be true immortals as well. There is "no death waiting for them." Interesting considering we've had references in both TOG and CC that dragons are either no more or MIA. We actually get references at least once to dragons in each of SJM's series. Let's dig in a little more.

So TOG is our series with the most obvious inclusion of, at the very least, dragon-like creatures (we love you Abraxos) aka Wyverns. Wyverns we learn were made by the king - in a process Manon claims to not know much about... but happens in a mountain. But let's not skip ahead.

We've known since early on in TOG that dragons once existed in Erilea, but wyverns remain and are even the symbol represented on Ardalan's royal seal.

Celeana is surprised to see dragons depicted on the doors to the palace's library - because of course... libraries are at this point one of our most consistent, important, and often lost/destroyed, settings/plot points across worlds. Followed up with her feeling "a shot of lightning" about this dragon-adorned library... my spidey senses are tingling, how about you? Have dragons been associated with lightning in mythology? Yes. Yes they have.

First, what is the difference between a dragon and a wyvern? In fact lets take a look at all the varietals, some of the names might be familiar.

Who could forget the Wyrm from ACOTAR? Characters (amren) have been referred to as drakes, and I think we can argue that we've encountered a couple others from this list (perhaps sent from Hel?).

Anyway, what happened to the dragons of Erilea? It seems that they were defeated during a conflict and people largely believe them to be gone and whole societies (the mycenians) lost hope and fight once the last dragon disappeared/was killed.

But it's Maeve who gives us the clearest picture as to what happened to the dragons.

Glass is obviously significant in Throne of Glass and brings new meaning to the now destroyed glass castle, which I now assume was made from dragon glass.

But Maeve having "ensured" dragons were eradicated is particularly interesting knowing what we know about dragon fire from CC2 (we'll get to that). What this "ancient and bloody conflict" was we can guess at, but much like ACOTAR and CC we've got a wealth of wars to choose some and some we have more information about than others... anyone else suspicious about the sprite rebellion?

But Maeve mentioning Aelin's own "fire-breathing heritage" gave me pause... is she suggesting Aelin has any relation to dragons? Especially when Aelin starts to feel pangs of empathy for reasons she can't explain (a lightbulb moment in any SJM book - she uses this easter egg tactic a lot), her overwhelming sorrow while she's actively being tortured feels notable. Especially mentioning dragons "would never again been on this earth." Perhaps they can be found on another?

But Maeve destroying dragons is important because Bryce learns from Jesiba in CC2 that the strongest weapon against a Prince of Hel is in fact... dragon fire. Seems like an important tool to have in the arsenal... and why mention it if there are no dragons left anyway?

It contained an analysis of dragon fire, dating back five thousand years. It was in a language Bryce didn’t know, but a translation had been included. Jesiba had scribbled Good luck at the top. 

Well, now she knew why the Astronomer kept Ariadne in a ring. Not for light—but for protection. 

Among its many uses, the ancient scholar had written, dragon fire is one of the few substances proven to harm the Princes of Hel. It can burn even the Prince of the Pit’s dark hide. 

Yeah, Ariadne was valuable. And if Apollion was readying his armies … Bryce had no intention of letting the dragon return to the Astronomer’s clutches. HOSAB, Chapter 50

Granted, this alludes to there being a few substances that can harm a Prince of Hel, but with the introduction of Ariadne and "the ancient ones"... dragons have just shot to the top of my personal list of "things that are probably coming for us in CC3 and beyond" especially in this fight against the Big Bads.

Granted we learned when Bryce breaks into the Dawn room at the Crystal Palace (dragon glass too???) that the warring factions of Hel united to oust the Asteri and Thanatos is only now saying he doesn't give an f about his brothers' plans... maybe we don't want to roast Apollion, but just some of his brothers? And maybe dragon fire has some ability to take down an Asteri too? Who can say?

But that brings me back to Ariadne's conversation about the difference between the kind of dragon she is an the kind of dragons that have allegedly gone missing... she doesn't say they're gone.

“Skull-Crusher, Winged Doom, Light-Eater.” Flynn ticked them off on his fingers.  She snorted, and the hint of amusement had Ithan realizing that the dragon was … beautiful. Utterly lethal and defiant, but—well, damn. From the gleam in Flynn’s eyes, Ithan could tell the Fae lord was thinking the same. Ariadne said, “Such names are for the old ones who dwell in their mountain caves and sleep the long slumber of true immortals.”

Hm... sleeping in mountain caves? We've definitely had some not super subtle hints about some giant presence slumbering below mountains — in both TOG and ACOTAR. And while TOG has clearly mentioned their missing dragons... ACOTAR explicitly references dragons one time.

When Lucien gives Feyre a cloak UTM she notes Amarantha's coat of arms isn't just a dragon... but a sleeping dragon. Can I fully say I understand all the implications here? Certainly not. But it was an "oh damn" moment when I saw it. Especially considering how convinced I am that Hybern was possessed by a Valg. And if Maeve (Valg) and Princes of Hel (??) fear dragon fire... that... is an intriguing parallel.

But ok, so we've got a coat of arms with a sleeping dragon... what else has been referenced as a massive sleeping force?

Cassian wondered if his brother had ever told her what dwelled in these mountains. Most had been slain by the Illyrians, or sent fleeing to those Steppes. But the most cunning of them, the most ancient … they had found ways to hide. To emerge on moonless nights to feed. Even five centuries of training couldn’t stop the chill that skittered down his spine as Cassian surveyed the empty, quiet mountains below and wondered what slept beneath the snow...

Cassian soared toward it, unable to resist Ramiel’s ancient summons. Different—the mountain was so different from the barren, terrible presence of the lone peak in the center of Prythian. Ramiel had always felt alive, somehow. Awake and watchful....

Ramiel rose higher still, a shard of stone piercing the gray sky. Beautiful and lonely. Eternal and ageless.  ACOFAS, Chapter 3

Now I'm not saying I'm 100% confident a dragon is sleeping beneath Ramiel... but I am saying I feel confident we've gotta find dragons sleeping somewhere and the planet that's retained the most magic seems like an obvious first place to look.

I also wonder how much connection there could be between lost ancient dragons and the rare thunderbird line — a CC plot point that has been breaking my brain even more the second time around (all thoughts, no real conclusions). But with the inclusion of lightning + dragons (Aelin at the library, the Great Rite, etc.)... thunderbirds are looking even more suspicious in my eyes. Even more suspicious is our dear Hunt Athalar... lightning wielder of our dreams...

Her teeth shone, her canines long enough to shred flesh. “Did Bryce Quinlan tell you what occurred when she stood in this chamber twelve years ago?” His blood turned to ice. “That’s Quinlan’s business.” That smile didn’t falter. ��You do not wish to know what I saw for her, either?” “No.” He spoke from his heart. “It’s her business,” he repeated. His lightning rose within him, rallying against a foe he could not slay. The Oracle blinked, a slow bob of those thick lashes. “You remind me of that which was lost long ago,” she said quietly. “I had not realized it might ever appear again.” HOEAB, Chapter 33

That's all I got for now... stay tuned for a potential descent into madness about Thunderbirds. We'll see.

[duskcowboy]

Isn’t Vassa implied to have feelings for Jurian? and Lucien acts a bit left out even if loyal?

Hmm I’m not quite sure where that would be implied. I feel like you’re referring to this quote maybe?

“And Jurian and Vassa?”

“At each other’s throats, as they like to be,” he said, a tad sharply.

I truly interpreted this as Lucien being annoyed by the bickering and honestly jealous because he’s starting maybe have feelings for Vassa.

And while that might be “interpretable” we also have these supporting Vassien:

1. Lucien being protective of her, setting his target on Koschei

Vassa peered at her hands, fingers flexing. “I fear what may happen if he ever gets free of the lake.” Lucien stared out the window—as if he could see the lake across a sea and a continent. As if he were setting his target.

2. SJM reminding us that Lucien went after Vassa (similar to how we’re reminded Az rescued Elain)

“Lucien had been there, Cassian recalled. Had gone with Nesta’s father to the lake where Vassa was held captive.”

3. Lucien showing that he feels pained for Vassa

“He could have sworn flames rippled across her blue eyes. Both Jurian and Lucien stared at her, the former’s face utterly unreadable, the latter’s pained.”

4. The IC acknowledging that Lucien is probably biased now towards Vassa

“Lucien can’t be unbiased in reporting to us on Vassa.”

5. Lucien laughing and being relaxed around her

“Vassa still remained inside, chatting with Lucien animatedly. I supposed that if she only had until dawn before turning back into a firebird, she wanted to make every minute count. Lucien, surprisingly, was chuckling, his shoulders loose and his head angled while he listened.”

6. (And my personal favorite) when Lucien BLUSHED while talking about Vassa

“Not for long— not if Vassa has anything to do with it.”

“You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.”

7. There’s also the fact that SJM gave them (what seems to me like) a badass couple name:

“A bird of flame and a lord of fire. I wondered if they’d found each other.”

8. Lucien has his eye that can see what others cannot that he says he hopes will help free her, plus his biological father is a breaker of enchantments

“This eye can see things that others can’t. Spells, glamours. Perhaps it can help me find her. And break her curse.”

9. Then, there’s my own theory about how SJM has been foreshadowing that Lucien will end up with a mortal love. There’s been two instances that Lucien has been associated with having a mortal lover when it’s not/no longer the case. Makes me think that it would be full circle for him to end up with a mortal lover in the end:

“I knew you liked to stoop low with your lovers Lucien, but I never thought you’d actually dabble with mortal trash.”

“And if Lucien had discovered that Elain was his mate beforehand [when she was still a mortal], it would have been…devastating to realize he’d only have a few decades.”

Also—just my own opinion, I find Jurian extremely suspicious still but that would be a post of its own so I won’t dig into it now, but let’s just say I don’t trust a man who pretended to reciprocate someone’s love just to crucify and chop her up.

[yuriko-mukami]

Her Calamity Dark 10

Beta reader: @ruki-mukami-dl

Chapter Selection

The library was quiet and surprisingly cool. So was the angel in my arms as she absorbed herself into a book. While she turned page after page, I found it difficult to concentrate on the novel and played with her curls instead. Such a strange feeling, not like me at all. 

I could not stop the disturbed feeling whenever the scene from a couple of days ago played through my mind again. Even though I did not want to admit it, it was clear that Karlheinz-sama had manipulated Yuriko’s feelings to make her fire appear. I did not like how he had made her fear. She should have been happy at all times and no harm should have come to her.

But Karlheinz-sama wanted Yuriko to train Shu. I could not prevent that if I wanted to stay as his loyal servant. It seemed that all I could do was stay by her side and make sure that Shu would not maltreat her. Though he had seemed like he truly was afraid of the flames… but fear was a great power that was able to push people into desperate actions. I needed to be on guard. Perhaps, I should have a private chat about the matter with Shu. 

As Yuriko shifted against me, I buried my nose into her hair and inhaled her sweet scent. It was different again, less intense and not so… needy? That made me wonder if the Kitsune she had met had been correct with the mating season. It would not be that surprising for foxes to have such. The Vampires had their own as well once a month but for the Kitsune it could work differently since they were not tied to the moon like we were.

It still bothered me how little I knew about the Kitsune. But I had learned one new thing now. Their fire could not burn Karlheinz-sama. It was even possible that any Vampire could survive the flames, but I was not too eager to try that out. I would prefer Yuriko to be happy and not need her fire at all. It seemed to only come out when she was upset which was not the course I wish to take.

A sigh left my lips before I was able to prevent it. Instantly, Yuriko raised her gaze from the book and locked her teal orbs with mine.

“Umh… everything okay, Ruki? Did I turn the page too fast… or was I being too slow?” Her teeth dug into her plump bottom lip. Immediately, I lifted my hand and brushed my thumb over the rosy petal.

“Do not hurt what is mine.” I leaned in, pecking her mouth. The temptation was too much, and I ended up pulling her lip with mine. “No, you were not too fast or too slow. I was simply lost in thoughts. You can continue reading if you wish.”

But Yuriko tilted her head and kissed my thumb. “What were you thinking about?” She turned, closed the book, and put it on the table before meandering around and sitting on my lap. As she faced me, her warm fingertips traced my cheeks. The air thickened with the genuine worry she radiated. What had I ever done to deserve all this cherishing?

The answer was nothing. I did not deserve her. As simple as that. Yet I would not let go of her, for she would be mine forever. That might be selfish of me, but I did not care. I had found the one thing I wanted more than anything in this world so I would keep it. I was incredibly lucky that she did not fight back. At least not anymore.

“Ruki?” The chirp from Yuriko made me realize I had not answered her inquiry. 

“Haa… I do not wish to worry you. But I do not like what happened during the dinner.” Yuriko opened her mouth as she heard my words, but I pressed my index finger against her lips. “It is not your fault, so do not apologize. I will discuss this with Sakamaki Shu. Perhaps, we can find another solution that will please Karlheinz-sama, for I wish not to involve you with those arrogant aristocrats.”

“Umh… aren’t you an aristocrat too?” Yuriko spoke against my finger. The soft movement vibrated on my skin, making me want to push that digit into her wet cavern and force her to moan instead of talking. “Not… that I want to work with Shu-san, but I don’t wish to offend Karlheinz-sama either.”

Always so well-mannered. I had to admit I enjoyed this side of her. Unlike many others, she knew how to behave in the company of other people. Of course, she also lost her temper at times, but mostly she tried to be a good girl. My good girl.

“Haa… yes, I was an aristocrat… but that was in the past and I am not so proud of those days…” I brushed a wayward curl behind Yuriko’s ear. “Neither of us wants to offend Karlheinz-sama, but do not worry, I will arrange this in one way or another.”

“So… so… I don’t have to… try to burn… Shu-san…?” Teal started to pool. Yuriko would not want to hurt a fly, I was sure of it.

I nodded. “I promise. You should learn to call that flare of yours, but only use it for the intentions that feel right in your heart.”

“Alright, then I won’t —”

Yuriko’s phone vibrated on the table. Both of us turned our heads toward it, seeing a name appearing on the screen. I could not push aside the tenseness that instantly slithered to my temples. “It seems Elizabeth misses you.”

“Umh… Yes… We haven’t been texting for a while. I wonder if everything is okay…” Yuriko reached out, picking up the phone. For a moment, I admired her thumb work with the screen when she tapped her secret code so fast that a Vampire would be proud of her. It did not stop me from memorizing the series of numbers though. Just in case.

“Is she well?” I asked as Yuriko went quiet and stared at the phone, her brows knitting tighter and tighter together. Although the answer was quite clearly no with the way her face wrinkled, I wished to hear her tell me the news directly.

Yuriko sighed and turned the screen toward me. Leaning in, I read what the zombie girl had scribbled to her, secretly adoring the fact Yuriko was willingly showing me the conversation.

Yuri-Yuri! Big News!!!  Σ(°ロ°) I’m not living with the Sakamakis anymore! Because Shin came for me when the Sakamakis were out with Yui. I can’t believe it! (°ロ°) ! Currently, I’m in the Tsukinami mansion, even sharing the bedroom with Shin. So, don’t be worried. Everything is okay. I just don’t know if I can come to school when the semester starts but I try to talk about it with Shin and Carla.

“I… I think Shin kidnapped Eli-chan…” Yuriko patted her lips with her finger. “Though… is it a kidnapping if Eli-chan wanted to go with him? She doesn’t sound like she is hurt and kept against her will… but I’m a bit worried if this will cause trouble…”

“You should not worry yourself too much with the matters of others. Elizabeth seems to be fond of that Founder after all.” Even with what I said, I was conflicted. It would have been better if Yuriko had not paid attention to this occurrence, but it was strange that this happened right after I had had a conversation about the First Bloods with Karlheinz-sama. So far, those two had not made any moves that would have bothered anyone, but this… “Elizabeth was living in the Sakamaki mansion, was she not?”

Yuriko nodded to my words. “Yes, yes, she was. I met her when you were away and honestly, the meeting made me worried. She had punctual marks on her hands and —”

I chuckled. “You are rather marked yourself. It is not a reason to stress when someone is living with the Vampires.”

“But this was different! Those weren’t bite marks, I would have recognized one. And she said that Reiji-san was doing experiments for her…”

“Is that so?” I frowned. “Then you do not need to worry. That Founder clearly saved her from bad treatment.”

Reiji was doing research with Elizabeth? This piece of information nudged something in me, it felt important even though I could not put my finger into it. Still, there must be a meaning behind it because Reiji rarely did anything simply for the sake of it. Perhaps, studying poisons and drinking tea, but not something like this. I doubted it. And punctual marks could mean he had either injected something in Yuriko’s tiny friend or taken her blood. Maybe he was making a new type of poison out of zombies’ blood.

I almost shook my head but stopped at the last second. Yuriko did not need to see my inner turmoil. Instead, I caressed her cheek and smiled at her. “Do not burden yourself with nothing. Your friend is safe now.”

In the hands of the Founders. Were they scheming or did that insolent fool truly have feelings for that zombie like Yuriko had told me?

“I… I could write back and ask for the address. Then I could visit her to see if everything is okay with her and Shin.” Yuriko locked her gaze with mine.

“Absolutely not. You do not do such a thing.” I grabbed her chin. “Tsukinami Shin helped us once but that is no reason to get too familiar with him. Your friend chose to be with him but that is on her. You may write her and wish her good luck, but you are not to visit her.”

I would not let my angel enter the dwelling of the First Bloods. No amount of pleading gazes would make me change my mind about this. Those two were enemies of Karlheinz-sama and without a doubt plotting something. Elizabeth might even play a role in it. Why else had they gotten her out of the Sakamaki mansion just now? There was a bigger meaning behind it, and it was better to keep Yuriko out of it.

“Let us focus on something else now. My brothers are not at home, but you still need dinner. Come with me in the kitchen to cook together this time.” I picked up the phone from Yuriko’s hands and pecked her lips once more. “What would you like to eat?”

“Is the salad not to your liking perhaps?” I set my fork on the table, laying my gaze on Yuriko who stared out of the window while poking her bowl. She flinched at my words and hastily stuffed a forkful into her mouth.

After a while, she swallowed. “Mhm… that’s not it…” 

“Then what is it? It is not like you to be picky with your meal.” Usually, it was the opposite. Yuriko never complained about my choice of dinner, unlike my brothers who were not shy to express their distaste if something was not as they wished. But no matter what I put in front of Yuriko, she ate and complimented it. Sometimes I wondered if she even had a favorite dish.

But today, Yuriko had emptied only half of her bowl, forgetting to lift her fork lost in thought. I did not like that.

“Umh…” Yuriko squirmed in her chair. “There is just so much… going on…”

Nodding, I sighed, for she was not wrong. I rather would have her not to anguish but it seemed she was a natural worrier. “Everything will be alright.”

I wanted to believe that. But… the First Bloods, Karlheinz-sama and now Elizabeth… It was like our blue sky was about to be covered with deep gray clouds. Other than me visiting Eden, we had been living in our personal bubble these few weeks. It had been like we had gotten a paradise of our own but now other people wanted to pull us from there. There were days when I wished I could have taken Yuriko and left this place for good to have our peace.

Yet I could not do that to Karlheinz-sama. 

Still, before the rising storm would hit us, we could have our piece of heaven. “It seems like your master needs to entertain you a little~ But first, I will fix us some iced tea.”

Getting up from the table, I gathered our bowls. I covered Yuriko’s with plastic and slipped it in the fridge, grabbing the bottle of green tea I had purchased for her. I was sure I had made ice cubes before and a peek into the freezer revealed that I was not wrong. On another occasion, I would have simmered the tea myself and let it cool down slowly, but I did not wish to wait for hours for it to be ready.

As I clattered some of the ice cubes in a tall glass, I stopped staring at the view. Perhaps… Yes, it could be fun indeed and would surely keep both of us busy. 

“How thirsty are you?” My back turned at Yuriko, I clipped my belt open and pulled it off with a slow, quiet movement, making sure the buckle did not give out a noise when I placed it on the counter next to the glass.

“Umh… not very…” 

That was the exact answer I wanted to hear. “Perhaps you should get up then.”

Turning around, I laid my eyes on Yuriko. She pushed herself up and arranged the hem of her light summer dress that was almost see-through. Baby blue fabric complimented her hair, but I wanted to get rid of it.

I stepped closer and brushed a curl behind Yuriko’s ear, revealing a faded bite mark on the column of her neck.

“I know you worry… and that you have suffered, especially lately.” I placed a kiss on Yuriko’s partly open lips. “But I do not want you to hide anything from me. I will find a way to soothe you, make you feel pure. So put your trust in me. I will satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart.”

“Eh?”

I loved the innocent face Yuriko was giving me. Those teal eyes that gazed at me were full of unvoiced questions.

“I will take good care of you, I promise. Now, undress for me. Will you?”

“He-here?”

“Yes. I told you. No one else is at home.” As a cue, I pulled off my t-shirt and tossed it over the backrest of a chair. “I will not say it twice.”

“But… but…” Yuriko squirmed before me, and the sweet shade of fresh roses spread on her face.

“Be a good girl…” I brushed my thumb over her lips and when she smiled, I pushed it past them, letting it sink into her wet cavern and enjoying the soft touch of her tiny tongue. “Be a good girl and I will reward you.”

Yuriko blinked, sucking my thumb. I remembered well how that tongue felt on something else, and the mere thought made me smirk. But today, I was up for something else. She would be my delicious dessert, not the other way around. As I pulled my finger out, her mouth made a plopping sound. 

I watched as Yuriko lifted her hands, pushing the straps of her dress down her upper arms. The cloth slithered along her body and piled around her ankles, covering her bare toes. Her bosom heaved under a white lace bra while the rosy buds under the fabric started to peak through it.

“Such an enjoyable sight. Now, take off your bra.” Keeping my eyes on Yuriko, I relished in the tone of her face which only grew deeper. She let her hand travel behind her back, clipping the hooks of her lingerie open and letting the lace piece drop. Her perky breasts bounced with the movement. Only slightly, but I made sure I did not miss a single shift.

“Good girl.” It was amusing how visibly more flushed my words made Yuriko. “Turn your back on me.”

A confusion swiped over her face, but she did as told. I grabbed my belt on the counter and roamed closer. “Do you trust me? Completely?”

“Yes, Ruki, I do.” Yuriko’s voice was a symphony of temptation to my ears.

Running my finger along her arm, I leaned in, close to her ear. “And do you remember what to say if you do not enjoy what I am doing?”

Yuriko shivered. “Umh… yes?”

“And what is that?” I breathed into her hair.

“Soup.” The word came out firm.

“That is right.” Before I knew it, a smile had already occupied my lips. “Say it loud and clear if needed. Do not hesitate. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

Nuzzling her hair, I gave a teasing nibble to Yuriko’s earlobe. “That is my good girl.”

I collected Yuriko’s arms and hauled them behind her back. She tensed as I started to secure them with my belt but did not fight back. I loved how obedient she was and always willing to explore things I suggested to her. 

After tightening the belt, I whirled Yuriko around, meeting her wide eyes and flustered cheeks. “You look so beautiful right now.”

“Umh… that’s a bit…”

Pressing my index finger on her lips, I shook my head. “Do not deny it. And stay still.”

I took a step back and caught the glass from the counter, moving it on the table next to us. Fishing one of the ice cubes there, I monitored Yuriko. She did not move but I could see how her breasts went up and down along with her breathing. 

“Let us see how long you can stay silent…” Lifting the ice cube, I inched closer again. Yuriko swallowed and nodded, her muscles visibly stiffening. Adoring her reaction, I pressed the cube gently on her chest. In the instant, her skin was covered with tiny bumps and a gasp slipped past her lips. 

Sliding the cube down, I advanced her breasts. Yuriko squirmed but did not back down as I glided the ice on her cleavage, gazing at the rivulet that slithered down the valley toward her belly button. With circling movements, I started to caress one of the perky mounds with the ice cube, watching how her nipple grew harder and harder. I brought the cube right next to it, and Yuriko inhaled deeply, locking her breath in. The anticipation made her tense even more.

Taking my time, I slid the ice over the tip of her breast. Yuriko gaped, her eyes widening even more but she managed to keep her voice down. Watching her struggle like this was quite intriguing, and I could not help but wonder how much she could take.

Moving the ice over the other breast of hers, I captured the bud of the first one into my mouth. It was hard and cold against my tongue. Sucking it, I started to tease the other with the cube. Yuriko whimpered but soon, swallowed. Grazing the tip with my fangs, I glanced up. Yuriko quivered, pressing her lips together all flushed. Her eyes met mine, and in that moment a thick aroma of her lust wafted in my nose. 

“Hmmm, enjoying yourself?” I pressed a kiss on her nipple while circling the ice around the other one. I got only a trembling whine as an answer. It was adoring how hard Yuriko tried to stay silent.

Crouching in front of her, I moved the ice under Yuriko’s breast. Without hurry, I trailed it on her belly, watching how she shivered. She tried to pull her stomach in when I reached her belly button but there was no escaping the cooling sensation I tormented her with.

I kissed Yuriko’s abdomen, allowing my gaze to travel south. It was impossible not to smirk when I saw a soaked spot on her panties. “That turned you on, did it not?” I traced the waistband of her tanga, seeing how melting ice made the fabric moist and Yuriko squirm. “It seems that the last piece of your clothing is rather wet. Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

“...umh…”

I chuckled. “You are allowed to speak.”

“I… I… a little bit…” Even Yuriko’s voice was shuddering. 

“Hmm… perhaps your master should help you out then…” 

With one swift sway of my hand, I tore the cotton with lace rims and tossed it on the floor. Yuriko’s knees buckled but she managed to balance while I inhaled deeply the luscious scent that lingered from her. It was not even the call of her blood but something else, something equally delicious. Watching her, I glided the ice on her bluish curls between her legs. 

“Oh my gosh!” Yuriko pressed her thighs together and whimpered.

“Shh…” I continued dampening the swirls even more, not minding her meandering. Her aroma was getting stronger, making my pants feel way too tight. Soon, I could not deny my own yearning to shove myself deep into her dewy depths. But first, I wanted to play a bit more, so I tugged down the zipper, relieving the squeeze. 

I tried to nudge my hand between Yuriko’s thighs, but she kept clenching them together. “Are you preventing your master from touching you? I cannot have that…”

Straightening up, I gazed at the woman who shivered before me. Without a doubt, she was the best thing that ever happened to me. Seeing her giving herself into my care, filled me with a joy I had not felt earlier in my life. Nothing compared with the warmth she spread into my endless life that was not so dull anymore.

I dropped the rest of the ice cube back into the glass and grabbed Yuriko by her waist. Hurling her over, I shoved her upper body against the nearby counter, pressing it down. She looked adorable toeing there.

“Hmm… that must be a little uncomfortable for you. A tiny punishment for your disobedience.” Chuckling, I slapped her butt cheek and enjoyed the bounce. Her fingers curled while her wrists were still perfectly secured by my belt. But I was proud of how she managed to swallow her wails.

After spreading her legs, I let Yuriko wait while I captured a new ice cube from the glass. This time she did not try to press them back together. Such a good girl, learned her lesson so fast.

As I glided the ice cube on one of Yuriko’s butt cheeks, a small cry escaped her. Smirking, I realized I wanted to squeeze more out of her, a concert of moans meant for my ears only. Caressing her ass, I showered the squishy skin with kisses and inched the ice over the crevasse of her buttocks. Whimpering, she squirmed, but I kept her pressed against the counter.

Crouching again, I forced Yuriko’s legs even more apart, revealing her glistening petals before me. She smelled of hidden cravings I wished to indulge.

While I wetted her butt with melting ice, I nudged my way between her folds, licking over them and coating my tongue with her creamy lust. Her thighs clasped against my ears, making me chuckle.

“There is no way out now…” I let my words vibrate against the drowning sweetness of her pussy and continued sliding my tongue over her entrance, reaching for the pearl I wished to make weep for release.

I was rewarded with a deep moan, almost like a growl, when my mouth met the moist nub. I sucked it, teasing it with my teeth, gently, not wanting to hurt Yuriko. Her legs shook, her body arching, and she almost soaked my face with her juices. So eager. As I circled her clit with the tip of my tongue, my fingers slipped, losing the grip of the ice cube. Distantly, I heard it dropping on the floor, but I was beyond caring. 

“You taste like heaven.” My voice broke, and I started to eat Yuriko out, squeezing her thighs with both hands and keeping her in the tough position.

Moans filled the kitchen, entangling with Yuriko’s arching and meandering as she turned into a mess by my mouth. I sank my tongue into her, tasting her bliss and pushing my pants down at the same time. My boxers followed, and I could not help but grunt as the aching pressure eased slightly.

“Oh gosh! I… it’s too good! Ruki… I will…!” Yuriko’s pussy pulsated, and I pulled back, heaving. She let out a frustrated wail. “No… I was… I was so… Ruki… please?”

“No. You are not allowed to cum. Not yet.” I groaned, and her scent got only thicker. 

“But Ruki!” Yuriko meandered. I pressed my hand on the small of her back and straightened, gazing at her.

“Your master wants to fuck you, feeling every luscious clench of you. Meaning, you are only allowed to cum when I say so.” I paused, letting my message sink in. “Is that clear, Yuriko?”

“Ehh?! Umh… but… but… what if I can’t… hold back?”

“You can and you will.” I pressed a finger against her entrance and felt the throbbing. Dipping the digit in, I watched her. She flinched, her hands curling into fists and opening again. “And to make this especially delicious, we will train you a little more today.”

Using her juices, I soaked my finger dripping wet before gliding it up her folds and between her buttocks which instantly tensed. “You know what I mean, do you not?”

“I… I… know…” Yuriko quivered on the counter.

“Good. Keep your legs spread wide and take everything your master will give you.” Holding my length, I guided it toward her entrance and slowly nudged it. The heat felt almost unbearable and undownable at the same time. Gradually, inch by inch, I pushed in while circling her other hole with my wettened finger. She clenched, whining as I stretched her and filled her tight depths.

“Fuck, Yuriko!” I was fully in, feeling how her pussy embraced my shaft again and again as if she was already on the edge of her peak. Staying still, I inched my finger a little deeper and pulled it back. Working on her ass like this, I enjoyed every little whine she let out of her mouth, gaping and gasping every time my digit sank deeper. One day, I would thrust my cock there and conquer that part of her too. There would be nothing in her that would not belong to me. 

Finally, I began to move, keeping the same pace with my shaft and my finger. Yuriko wept, her walls clasping me with every lunge. I drowned in her thudding flesh, groaning and growling at how well she was taking me in. 

“Gosh! Please! I can’t…!”

“You… can…!” I shoved in faster and faster. Fuck! Her heat was going to be the end of me. Plucking my finger out, I seized Yuriko’s waist and thrust deep. My loins flared and my balls felt like exploding. “You want to cum?” I grunted, pulling almost completely out, and rammed in again. “How badly?”

“Ahh… Ruki…” Yuriko whined and moaned, sobbing. “So badly…!”

 Digging my fingers into her skin, I buried my shaft deep. “Beg… ngh… for it then.”

In the corners of my mind, I started to hope that Yuriko would beg and cum, for I could not hold much longer. Her closeness was too much, her tempting being too captivating and her squeeze too sweet.

“Ruki, I… I… I’m begging you… please, please… let me… cum!”

Heaving on her nape, I growled. “You can… cum now!” I opened my mouth and pierced Yuriko’s shoulder. She shrieked under me as her blood gushed onto my tongue, squirming and quivering while her pussy clenched so harshly my mind was blown away. Reaching the stars, I shot my load into her, shaking against her back while her liquid of life flowed into me. 

And just then… something warm and fuzzy, something soft and furry popped between us, tickling against my stomach. Slowly coming down from my high, I tried to comprehend. Shivering, Yuriko panted under me when I hastily sealed the new wound with my saliva and lifted my head. 

The first, I saw the ears. White and blue fox ears sticking out of her head. Glancing down, I noticed the blue tip of a tail that peeked under my stomach. A chuckle crumbled out of me as I pulled out and watched Yuriko. “That good?”

Sobbing and panting, she gazed at me over her shoulder and nodded. Behind her glasses, her amber eyes greeted me along with the deep blush on her cheeks. She had never looked more beautiful. All fucked and her inner being set free. I knew that no one else could ever satisfy me better… and I would make sure it would always be the other way around as well. Forever, I would keep her as mine.

With haste, I opened my belt, releasing Yuriko. I lifted her in my arms and teleported directly into our bedroom. I took her glasses, put them on the nightstand, and laid her on the bed, cuddling her and stroking her ears. Her tail swayed as I held her close.

“Yuriko…” My voice sounded strained in my own ears. “You have made me yours. I promise that I will cherish you. We will be together at all times, and I never let go of you, for you have made my dull life full and stolen my heart. I love you.”

Weeping sweetly, Yuriko curled against me. She wrapped her tiny arm around my body, pressing closer. “I love you too, Ruki. You are my greatest happiness.” 

I had found my luck and my answer. No matter what would happen I knew I would always choose Yuriko. Even if it would be our doom. For she was my everything.

[amberlide]

A Christmas gift

I know is kink-october, but I'm not good with kinks, so I made a fluffy smut single story about the first time between my beloved Garreth and Penelope from my fanfiction. They are aged up of course :)

As the Christmas holidays at Hogwarts were fast approaching, and the Gryffindor common room was almost empty, Leander decided to sleep in the sixth year dorm, leaving theirs empty as a gift to Garreth. He really hoped his friend would finally enjoy his night with Penelope...

Minor please stay away, only +18

Tags: first time sex, fluffy smut. Words count: 5.7K It's quite long! :O English is not my first language so there are few mistakes here, sorry AO3 link --> this version had been edited :)

“Do you think she’s… ready?” Garreth cast a nervous look at Leander while they were packing their things. Christmas holidays were almost here, and the dormitory was already empty except for the two of them.

A heavy sigh escaped Leander as he stowed all his clothes in his trunk, closing it with a loud thud. “Weasley, please…” he rolled his eyes and sat on the trunk, “it’s two days I’ve found you two snogging half naked on your bed, if trying to take off your shirt every afternoon for a week doesn’t scream ready, then I don’t know what else!” he exclaimed. 

It was exasperating to see his friend so uncertain about something that surely wasn’t.

He had reached the point where he dreaded entering the dormitory, fearing of what he might find or might not find in particular clothes on his friend…

“Listen, tomorrow we leave for Christmas holidays, so tonight is just us two. I’m going to sleep in one of the sixth year’s bed and I leave the dorm to you. Free, for one night. Ask Penelope to sleep with you and see for yourself,” he pointed one finger on the palm of his hand, “tonight, or never Weasley!” he underlined his words with a decisive look.

Garreth nodded while folding his uniforms, “Thanks Lee!” 

Leander rose to his feet and headed for the exit. "Do it!" he exclaimed, shutting the door behind him, already sensing doubt around his friend.

-----

“So…” Penelope settled onto the squashy sofa next to the fireplace, her body sinking into the crimson pillows. The warmth from the flames turned her cheeks a rosy hue. She had a particular fondness for the Gryffindor common room, perhaps even preferring it to the Hufflepuff one. However, the drafts from the tower always made her shiver whenever she ventured away from the fireside.

After wrapping up a game of magic chess and chatting about holiday plans, the common room had emptied, leaving just the three of them.

“So…” Garreth scratched his head, shooting a look at Leander who appeared increasingly exasperated by his attitude. Packing the last chess pieces into a small velvet satchel and tucking the board under his arm, Leander announced, “I’m going to bed!” he rose his voice trying to give an hint to his friend, “It’s late, and I’ve got a long day tomorrow. We're visiting Aunt Sophie for Christmas, and trust me, it's going to be dreadfully dull. So, good night!” it wasn't truly that late, and so he might just curl up in bed and read something.

Garreth had insisted on lending Leander his novel, "The Adventure of Emerald Quill." Even though he showed genuine interest in the genre, his friend had inadvertently spoiled most of the plot, dampening his enthusiasm.

"Goodnight, Lee,” Garreth called out, raising a hand in farewell as Leander disappeared up the stairs of the tower.

Turning his attention to Penelope, their eyes met and she offered him a soft smile. Tilting her head, she reached out, her fingers gently brushing against his cheek. "Are you all right? You seem… nervous,” she murmured. Drawn to her, he settled next to her on the sofa, reveling in the gentle warmth of her touch. He really, really wanted to enjoy the whole warmth of her skin on his, but he felt too embarrassed to ask.

“Maybe you’re just tired, shall we go to bed?” he saw her trying to rise from the sank position on the sofa, he didn’t want her to leave, after all, Leander had made it abundantly clear that tonight might be his only chance.

He gently grasped her arm, pulling her towards him. Caught off guard, Penelope stumbled and ended up in his embrace. Their initial surprise melted away as they locked eyes, and Garreth tenderly leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips, avoiding her glasses in the process.

She felt Penelope relax beneath his touch, and she responded to his kiss without hesitation, parting her lips, brushing her tongue against his.

Its stomach twisted and turned.

He wanted her, and Leander was right, if she was willing to give, why not taking?

After all, he had prepared and taken that potion for three days now, so it was a waste of time and good resources not use it at his full potential. 

“Would you like to sleep with me tonight?” his voice was low, rougher than usual, as he sought to read her reaction to his proposal. She gave him an embarrassed smile, glancing towards the stairs behind him. "What about Lee?"

"He's in the sixth-year dorm," he explained. Leaning in, he brushed his nose gently against her ear. "Mine is free,” he murmured leaving a trace of goosebumps on her skin with his warmth breath.

Garreth felt Penelope stiffen. “Are you… sure?” she asked, but more than scared, she seemed intrigued by the prospective. She was fully aware of the consequences and a mischievous glint was sparkling her hazel eyes behind the lenses of her glasses. He raised his hand and brushed away a lock of soft brown hair from her forehead, following the strand and gently tucking it behind her ear, nodding as he lost himself in the tenderness of her gaze.

“Then why not?” 

He saw her jump up and extend her hand for him to take. Without wasting time, they soon found themselves chuckling nervously as they climbed the stairs leading to the dorm, trying to stifle their laughs at the prospective of breaking so many rules in such a short time, accomplices in yet another adventure.

They paused just before the door to the seventh-year dorm. Garreth's hand trembled on the handle. This was his moment, and he had to be ready to lead her, even if it was his first time he…

“Hey, you don’t really think to do this alone, do you?”

Surprise danced on his face; at times, it genuinely seemed as if she could read his mind. Without hesitation, she opened the door, leading him into the round room. The space, adorned with five four-poster beds, was dimly lit by a dying lamp on Garreth's nightstand.

The atmosphere was perfect, inviting almost. 

“It’s a first time for both, I’m not expecting it to be perfect. I’m also nervous,” she confessed, “but I’ll be fun, ‘cause your fun and I love you for this!” she raised on tiptoe and kiss him again, holding herself on his broad shoulders. “Come, let’s take turns!”

“Turns?” Garreth looked at her clearly puzzled by her words, following Penelope next to his bed, and watching her taking off her shoes, “Well, I’m not going to stay here and let you undress me,” she started, crouching while pulling the strings of her winter boots, “so I will end up naked and shivering. I want to enjoy the view too,” she smirked underlying her words with a playful wink.

He nodded, an intrigued glint in his green eyes. Penelope was always the one to take the initiative; she was far from meek, and that drove him wild. But her eagerness also helped relieve the pressure and lighten the mood. So, when she stepped closer and began to untie his tie, he didn't protest. Instead, he stood still, enjoying the delicate motions of her small fingers as they worked to undo the knot.

He stifled a chuckle at her focused expression, noticing the small furrow between her brows. She had never been good at adjusting her tie, at the beginning he thought it was just a way of pretending to be more boyish, to better disguised herself as a male student, but he soon realized that she really didn’t have a clue on how to do it.

“Let me help you,” he lowered himself and put an arm around her waist, dragging her closer, and planting a trail of soft kisses on her neck, “Garreth, please…” she pleaded, her voice already tinged with excitement and anticipation, but he didn’t care, with the other hand he loosened his tie, eager to move forward. He could clearly feel the warmth of her body calling him to temptation through the fabric of her clothes, and he really wanted to take off that fluffy jumper to expose the bust that was holding her breast. It would take hours to unlace it.

He took a step forward, leaning into her, and as predicted, she lost her balance. They both landed on his bed, a laugh escaping her throat. "You are a devil!" she complained, pulling herself up and finally removing his tie, proceeding then to unfasten the buttons of his shirt. 

This time she worked faster, and as soon as she managed to exposed his broad shoulders, she leaned forward and kissed his neck, grazing at the freckled skin of his chest, brushing the few ginger hair, inhaling his scent of lavender soap, inked parchment and what she recognized as wiggen tree bark with a hint of ginger. 

It was enough to stir her feelings, and she felt her heartbeat quickening, the warmth in her stomach growing, as well as the pulsing sensation between her thighs, forcing her to squeeze her legs. She felt his hand on her knee, the heavy textile of her stocking were not enough to keep the warmth of his fingers at bay, as it seeped though it. 

Garreth perceived Penelope breath caressing his ear, before her tongue brushed its lobe, and started to gently sucking it between her lips. She knew what she was doing, a soft sigh escaped his lips, feeling himself tensing under her touch, he needed a distraction or she would surely drove him mad. He started moving forward, slowly reaching up from her knee to her thigh, he felt her stopping in her endeavor and smiled to himself, but he didn’t stop. He continued sensing the warmth growing as he was approaching a much desired spot.

Penelope quivered, but she didn’t want him to win, so she removed his shirt completely admiring his pale skin, she wanted to kiss every single one of those soft brown spots… She moved her hand over his chest and absently brushed her finger over a little nipple. 

She heard him stifling a laugh, “Please Pen, you know that tingles,” he whispered, “Sure,” she answered with a glint in her eyes, “because what you’re doing is not…” “It would take ages to unlace your bust you know, at least give me something to look forward.” 

“Who said I’m wearing one?”

Garreth widened his eyes and lower his gaze from her face to her chest, he swallowed, the thought of her soft little breasts already free from that rigid trap under her bulky jumper made him twitch in his pants. 

“How…”

“Not that I don’t like wearing one, but after one year without it I feel more comfortable without, and I hoped nobody noticed under this,” she pointed to her jumper. 

He surely didn’t notice, but now that he knew, it was definitely his turn.

“Mmm… let me check…”

He retreated his hands from beneath her skirt and started to travel up her hips, intently gazing in her eyes, while admiring their soft glow and cloudy desire. Her skin was soft, a bit colder than her thighs, but he knew how to warm her up, he bent over and kissed her lips, this time hungrier and rougher than before, biting gently as he invaded her mouth with his tongue.

Her cheeks flushed, as she sensed his hands traveling slowly up under her jumper, she wanted to focus on that feeling, but Garreth kiss was too intense to ignore. She hold herself against him, sensing her glasses askew on the bridge of her nose, she surely needed to remove them.

His tongue was eager, demanding almost, searching for her, he never kissed her that way, and she liked how he was putting aside his nervousness to please and arouse her.

His hands found her breast, covered only by a light cotton blouse, he knew very well that was the only barrier between her skin and his hungry touch, but it was okay for now. He cupped both little breasts in the palm of his hands, appreciating their round tender forms and immediately feeling her nipples hardening to his assault. 

It was not the first time he had touched them, he knew very well how she liked it, but he never dared to ask her to take off her clothes, so he was eager to admire them in full, open air, even if the light was dimming in the dorm. 

Still, he wanted to take his time, savoring the moment, despite that devilish wool that was starting to itch the skin of his arms. He started pinching lightly the sensitive tips, and he felt Penelope whimpering in surprise while still locked in their kiss, trying to distance herself to fully enjoy that torture, but he didn’t want to let her go, so he moved a hand on her waist and gently pushed her towards him so she couldn’t escape. 

He took a small tip between his fingers, brushing it with his thumb, and pull. She moaned, his smiled widened, and he felt her hands clenched on his shoulder, her fingertips digging in his skin. He broke the kiss, now he wanted to check her face, see her mouth quivering with pleasure, her eyes pleading for more, her breath starting to grow heavier with every little pull. 

As soon as he did it, he felt Penelope head leaning on his shoulder, he stopped, realizing how overwhelmed she were, he started to be afraid that it was just too much for her to bear. After all, they had reached this point in just a few hours, when it had taken nearly a year for them to start feeling comfortable with each other bodies to the point where kissing was merely enough. 

He didn’t want to push her boundaries. 

He took his hands out from beneath her jumper.

“Penny, are you okay?” he brushed her hair, whispering lightly in her ear, he saw her nodding, “I’m so…” “No, don’t be,” she interrupted him, before raising her head, her cheeks were a deeper shade of pink, her eyes glowing with warm pleasure. 

“I’m fine. I didn’t expect it to be so…” she swallowed hard, “good,” she exhaled, the heat between her leg was almost unbearable now and she could feel a wet spot forming on her underwear. 

“You know we can just slip under the cover and go to bed…” he proposed, not that he wanted, and if she did, well, a short visit to the toilet was in order before snugging in with her. 

She laughed, “Not a chance!” she exclaimed, they were already too far to stop, “Is that ginger that I smell?” Garreth blushed and nodded averting his gaze and passing a hand on his neck, “I had to, you know…” her grin widened, “I know that brew takes ages to prepare, so no, we are not going to waste all your effort,” she mocked him and with a glint in her eyes she took off her jumper, leaving a flurry of static-electricity sparks in the process.

The admiration in his eyes was evident as he took in the sight of her chest, barely covered by the half transparent shirt, her plump and hard nipples tearing the soft fabric, poking out and almost teasing him to move forward. 

No, Penelope was definitely ready for that, maybe more than him.

“So, it’s still my turn?” he joked twitching his eyebrow, “Barely, you still have few minutes,” she replied casting a look at the decorative hourglass on the nightstand, a gift from their shared past.  With a wink she turned it over.

She had just the time to take off her glasses that Garreth was already kissing her neck, brushing his nose against her sensitive skin, biting softly and traveling up her hips once again. She squealed in surprise when they both landed on the bed, flat, against the pillows, she didn’t have time to recover, her shirt was fast half-unbuttoned and her breasts were free in the chilly air or the dorm.

Surely, it wasn't the drafts from the windows causing her cheeks to flush and her nipples so hard, most likely the hungry gaze of Garreth on top of her. 

“Sorry, so much to do and so little time,” he smirked before lowering on her and start kissing her stomach, traveling slowly up. Penelope shivered, trembling in anticipation and when his mouth reached one of her tips, she couldn’t trap the whimper in the back of her throat and let it escaped, igniting Garreth desire. 

She lock her hand in his ginger curls, arching her back, offering herself while his tongue was brushing, swirling, teasing, and slowly biting her. She felt so wet and messy, desperate for keeping a semblance of composure, she closed her eyes, but it only amplified the sensations coming from her hot skin and his eager licks. 

Her nipple was growing harder and harder between his lips and before moving to the other, he stopped for a moment to admire its deep crimson hue again the white of her skin, glinting wet from his saliva, he swallowed, it was almost too much for him as well. But Lee gave him only that night, so he had to press forward. He started to travel down again, ready to take off her skirt, when Penelope turned abruptly on her side. 

“Not so fast Brewsley,” she teased him, he let out a resigned sigh and raised on the covers, barely resisting the temptation of lowering his mouth again to give another lick, she always called him Brewsley when she wanted his full attention. He’d always pretended not to like that nickname, but it was a fun pun indeed, and Lee quickly grew jealous for not having thought of it first.

Penelope grinned, “My time,” the surety in her voice, was betrayed by the slightly trembling of her hands, he followed them until they reached the buckle of his belt. He tried not to smile at the sloppy attempts to unfasten it, not that she didn’t know how to do it, but she was evidently nervous and despite her goodwill, he could sense her trepidation and fear. 

Once she managed, he quietly rose to his feet, the bulge between his legs was evident, and he stood silent, giving her space and time to decide how she wanted to proceed. Surely, she had felt it countless of time before, against her thigh, her belly, the back of her hand, maybe once also against her butt, but that was uncalled for and totally unexpected. 

He blushed remembering how once she saw him half naked diving and swimming in the river with his brothers, but she was pretending to be a boy at that time so he didn’t realize how much embarrassed she must have been. 

This was a totally different story.

The air between them tensed, as Penelope slowly unfastened the first button of his trousers carefully avoiding touching more than she could handle. Her fingers moved to the second button, than the third, as she was holding her breath longer with each one. Finally, she reached the last one and in a burst of courage, she grasped at the side of his trousers and pull them down. 

He wanted to say something funny to lighten the mood, but he held back, Penelope was surely mustering the courage to continue and he didn’t want to press her or give her the impression of being impatient or even making fun of her. So when she stood and ask for a kiss he didn’t expect her hand to travel from his stomach to his underwear gently feeling him. 

He kissed her softly, holding her against his bare chest, feeling the warmth of her skin and her exposed breasts, realizing she was just trying to distract herself, making that mechanical gesture more intimate, and participated. 

Garreth closed his eyes, as her hand kept stroking him from over the fabric, gently assessing his length, his width, his firmness… He felt a warm drop escaping from his tip, gushing out, and he faltered, hoping she would not retreat disgusted by something he wasn’t able to control.

But he heard her chuckling, against his lips, “You’re almost as wet as me,” she joked, and with that she plunged in the depth of his underwear, this time without any hesitation or shame. 

Her hand felt the warmth of his skin, she briefly travel up and down, than in the back, squeezing his buttcheeks with a giggle, before deciding she had enough and proceed to remove that last piece of clothing leaving it dropping down together with his trousers. 

He stepped out of his clothes.

Now he was completely naked and she was half dressed. 

“Do you think it’s fair?” he mumbled opening his arms as she stepped back taking in his figure, he noticed how her eyes were desperately trying not to look down, but she was undoubtedly attracted by his virility. The idea made him even more excited.

Penelope sank in the bed, and hit her cheek with her index finger, faking a thoughtful expression, “Yes, for now. Come here, I haven’t finished yet,” she smiled patting the spot on the covers next to her. Garreth promptly obeyed, as soon as he did it, she leant and took him in her hand, keeping a steady and intense gaze, drinking in his green eyes.

His heart jumped in his chest at that sudden move, he didn’t expect her to be so direct after the time she took it before. He felt her hand moving up and down his shaft, then her thumb followed one of the biggest bluish veins until it reached the tip, he hold his breath.

She exposed the soft skin under it, it was a nice shade of crimson and glistening with his juices. She rolled her thumb on it, feeling him tensing under her touch, she had never seen one before, so she was eager to explore his body discovering his full potential. 

“Does it hurt? Stop me if it does,” she murmured, her voice faint with worries, he shook his head unable to answer, he passed an arm around her and moved her closer, just a simple gesture to let her understand how much he was appreciating her efforts, especially when she started to move her other hand between his thighs, grazing at his balls. It was definitely too much to bear and he didn’t want to sink in his own pleasure before giving her hers.

“Can we… can we move forward?” he pleaded, feeling the gentle thugs becoming more rushed and the increasing pressure around its tip, if she continued that way, it was surely going to come. 

Penelope released him at once, her cheeks hot, she knew what was coming, and after feeling so at ease with her exposed chest, she was confident that getting fully undressed would not be so difficult.

Still, the thought made her nervous, and Garreth read it in her eyes, as he kissed her again, gently moving his hands up her skirt, “Shall we remove this stocking first?” he suggested against her lips, she nodded trying to relax under his touch, she was quivering lightly, “Are you cold?” he was definitely not cold, not after what she did, but maybe she wasn’t as excited as him…

“A little bit,” she admitted. He took a moment to lower the canopy of the four-poster bed, providing them with a sense of intimacy. The soft light from the lantern on the nightstand, glowing in the darkness, created the perfect atmosphere.

“Better, thanks,” she whispered laying on the covers ready for whatever he had in mind. If she thought Garreth would be more decisive than her, she was surely wrong, despite his eagerness he still felt a bit embarrassed and once he took out her stockings, his hands became more unsure around the strip of her skirt.

She felt it and gently asked him to lay next to her, she looked him in the eyes, admiring the shimmering of his green irises under the warm glow of the lantern. She brushed his hair, taking a moment to let her heart slow its beat while stroking the soft silk of his ginger curls, wrapping one around her finger. She caressed his cheek, trying to count the myriad of freckles on his faces. They  stood still for a moment, then Garreth moved forward and kissed her once again, intrigued by the gentle gaze of her slightly almond-shaped eyes, an inheritance of her grandmother, and the inviting curving of her pink lips. He wanted her so badly… 

The kiss deepened as his hand travelled once more from her shoulder to her hips, brushing her nipple in its journey to her thigh, he raised the fabric of her skirt with renew purpose, moving it up. Her skin, now exposed, was cold, so he bend one knee and covered her with his thigh; the feeling of their naked body pressed together, released more sparkles, especially because he knew she must feel it pressing on her stomach. He kept moving, reaching her underwear, then creeping under them, one centimeter at a time, feeling the warmth increasing at the tip of his fingers the more he was digging into her secrets. 

He felt a tuft of hair and saw Penelope widened her eyes gasping, before closing them again, relaxing and hiding in the nook of his shoulder, “Shall I…?” he noticed her nodding, still hidden, so he continued, feeling her legs tensing up. He stroked her lips gently, almost asking for permission before plunging in. He felt her wet folds and brushed his knuckle against them, sensing her little clit tightening, while his hand was becoming more and more slick with her juices. 

She wasn’t joking, she was wet… and just from the little teasing moment they had.

He moved his thumb up, pressing it gently on her nub, she quivered and whimpered, he could hear her heart pumping against his chest, furiously. He desperately wanted to see the look on her face, check her eyes, but he didn’t dare to ask, so he kept stroking with little gentle movements, assessing her reactions. Was she liking it?

He felt her hand grappling at his arm once again, a soft moan escaped her throat, while her fingernails dug in his skin leaving red marks, yes, she was definitely liking it. He increased the pressure, eager to slip a finger inside her, savoring every part of that warm aroused body, when he finally did it, she tensed once again. 

“Don’t… don’t stop. Please,” he heard her, almost pleading, he didn’t. He kept stroking her gently, circling her clit with the tip of his thumb while lightly pumping his finger inside her, sensing her tight walls clenching. A wet sound escaped form her intimacy, and she heard her whining, 

“It’s okay, Pen, don’t be ashamed,” he whispered, fearing she was too embarrassed to enjoy the moment.

Penelope raised her head, the heat coming from Garreth’s chest was becoming almost unbearable, her stomach was turning and she started to feel the waves of what she believed was one of the most powerful orgasms she had ever experienced. But of course, she wasn’t sure, caught up in the moment as she was, she barely remembered how to breathe.

She just knew she trusted him as she had alway done, and that he wasn’t disappointing her.

The pressure increased between her legs, his fingers were moving faster, steadier, bringing her on the verge of the abyss, closing her eyes, her let herself go. She had waited that moment for months, so she just clenched her fist and let a moan escape her lips as the center of her pleasure started to pulse, the contractions becoming closer and closer. 

If this was just the beginning, what was coming next?

Almost losing her mind in the intensity of the orgasm, she soon tried to recompose herself.

Quivering lightly she closed her legs and Garreth understood that she had enough, but as soon as he retread his finger, now slicked from her juices, he felt Penelope pushing him away.

Taken by surprise, fearing he did something wrong, he rolled on the bed with his back on the covers, he didn’t have the time to understand what was happening, or even ask her what was going on, that she was on top of him, her warm and wet entrance pressed against the tip of his shaft. 

He widened his eyes, puzzled, what was happening?

He glanced up at Penelope, her face hidden by cascading hair. Gently brushing the strands aside and tucking the longest tresses behind her ears, he caught a mischievous smirk gracing her lips, “Do you really think I was letting you do all the work?” she mocked him, lowering herself and pinning her hand on his shoulder while gently moving herself up and down along his length, making it slippery and wetter with every stroke. 

He almost choked, while tying to swallow hard, his exposed and sensitive tip was prodding her entrance, sending him shivers whenever she rocked her hips. 

She truly was something.

In his desperate attempt to distract himself, as he was sure he was going to explode sooner or later, as the sight of her clit brushing against him was too much, he raised his arms, his hands searching for her breasts. He had just the time to stroke her nipples, that Penelope grabbed his wrists, “Not a chance,” she murmured and taking his hands off of her, she lower herself pinning him to the bed, with her nipples caressing his chest, but that was exactly what lead her to her doom.

She was clearly in a precarious position as she was stretched all the way down and in the attempt to keeping him in place, she was loosing her grip on him. Despite her clenching her thighs, it took no effort from Garreth to turn his hips and flip her over.

Penelope sinked on the mattress as a soft cry escaped her lips, Garreth quickly moved his knee between her legs to prevent her from closing them, “I think it’s time to end this little game,” he whispered, his voice rough and coarse, and lowering his body he gently pressed it against her, he felt her spreading her knees inviting him to continue, while nodding, she had enough as well.

They lock eyes for a brief moment, while Garreth stroke himself again against her drenched folds, parting them and gently pushing, feeling her entrance tightening. “We don’t need to do it,” he reminded her, he wanted to give her a last chance to back up before it was too late.

She didn’t answer, but she extended her hand and gently caressed his cheek, before raising and kissing him again, he knew it was his cue, still locked in the kiss he lower his hips and slowly started to make his way inside her. Pushing and retreating, little by little, he managed to finally get his way in, she was warm, tight and slippery, she was perfectly wrapping him, like a soft embrace.

He heard her whimper, and when she land on her back breaking the kiss, her eyes were closed, and the muscles on her neck tense. She was surely trying to resist for his sake. He almost wanted to pull out, if it had to be painful for her, he wasn’t interested anymore.

But after a few seconds Penelope opened her eyes, the tears glistening in them were pushed away by her tender smile, “Do you mind? I can’t move,” she tried to joke, and he nodded starting to gently rock his hips, leaving her room to adjust to the new feeling with every push.

Penelope inhaled sharply as the pain in her belly subsided, leaving behind a new feeling, she was full and ripen, her body ready for that new experience. She grapple at Garreth hips and start to gently move with him, the warmth in her stomach deepened as the sensation between her legs grew sharper and more intense with every move. 

She find herself transported into a new whirlwind of stimuli, she wasn’t sure how to define them, but she surely liked them, her body at least was. As Garreth pleasure grew more intense with every pump, she also felt it, he was loosing his composure and his eyes were faltering, his focus on a totally different spot. 

As he plunged deeper into her, she arched her back, widened her eyes in surprise, was that supposed to be so… intense? She didn’t expect it, she couldn’t keep the grip on his hips anymore, so she just grabbed the cover of the bed and closed her eyes feeling his breath growing more heavier with every movement.

Garreth knew he couldn’t last longer, she was already tensing under him, her walls tightening once more, but when she bend her knees making herself smaller, it was then that he completely lost it. “Pen…” he whisper desperately, “I know, I’m fine,” a soft reassuring smile danced on her lips, her eyes full of pleasure and untold desire, even if she wasn’t coming yet, they knew there was still time to enjoy themselves. 

He bit his lip, pushing once more, basking in the beauty of the girl behind him, completely spread and undone for him. He sense a drop of sweat forming on his forehead, but his thoughts were all for the turning and churning in his groin. He was almost there, he reached the verge with a last thrust moaning and almost cursing under his breath.

When he finally finished, releasing himself in her, he tried to keep his balance, but finally toppled over landing on his back beside her. Penelope rolled over him, resting her head on his chest, she was exhausted. 

“I definitely have something to look forward now after my holidays,” she joked, and Garreth chuckled ruffling her hair, still catching his breath. 

“I don’t know if Leander would agree with that, but this was surely a nice gift from him,” they both laugh, sweaty and happy.

They both knew that was jus the begging of a total new adventure.

[osric-giroux-ffxiv]

Fireside Chat

The gardens of the Cress Estate were not a location Osric had given much thought to, nor spent much time in. 

Cold as Ishgard’s climate was since the calamity, it was difficult to get anything to grow, besides the occasional cedar, and yet the gardens were full of plants and statues…he could easily have imagined the vibrant expanse that would have occupied the space when a warmer climate claimed the land. 

But that wasn’t the case now - it hadn’t been for some time. Which meant few people visited the gardens.

Except for him.

He’d happened across what looked liked it had been perhaps a fire pit at one time, and after a few trips to the estate, and a questioning look from Wyland….and Bruce, he’d returned to the spot, adequately dressed, a warm fur-lined cloak settled around his shoulders, a blanket beside him on the bench, and went about starting a fire in the small fire pit. 

Wyland, catching on, had eventually brought out a small Ishgardian stove, leaving a kettle and two cups - though why two, Osric didn’t question, before leaving the younger man to the garden, the fire pit, and his racing thoughts - replaying events of the last several days as he watched the flames dance and listened to the crackle of the wood, a much-needed reprieve from the sounds of hammer against stone.

The sound of footsteps came from behind Osric as Valeria stepped towards the pit, curious about what the ruckus outside had been for some time along with hushed voices. She had her answer the moment she happened upon her brother-in-law, “I can’t remember the last time that had been used.” she spoke.

He hadn’t been expecting anyone to brave the cold, and so her voice drew him out of his thoughts - he turned his head enough to catch a glimpse of Valeria as she approached. 

Valeria was warmly dressed, her hair loose in long waves and a pristine falcon of soft greys and whites had been on her shoulder, its blinders kept its eyes covered. There must have been some level of trust there as the bird seemed content in trusting Valeria enough to lead them safely. Many of those within the manor itself wouldn’t have known of the lengths she had gone to bond with the bird itself and more often than not, she opted to keep Clotho uncaged, unbound. Free.

With the freedom came loyalty and trust.

“Why would you rather be out here in front of the fire than inside? It’s much warmer indoors.” Valeria spoke again and she drew closer, looking down to the fire and then to Osric, the orange glow of the flames brightening her cloaked figure.

“It is…” Osric nodded slowly, rubbing his hands together for a moment before reaching down to grab a piece of wood from the nearby pile, tossing it into the pit before shifting on the bench to fully face her. “...and maybe it’s because I’ve been spending so much time at the barracks over the last couple of weeks but inside just felt…stuffy today. I thought some fresh air, even if it was a bit cold, might do me some good.”

“So I came out here, found this, and here I am.” He looked up with a small smile before motioning towards the bench beside me, “Would you and your feathered friend like to join me? We’ve been living under the same roof for weeks now, and I don’t think we’ve shared more than a few passing words here and there. It really is quite nice by the fire…”

“Walks are usually good for that,” Valeria spoke softly as she watched Osric warm his hands. She of course wasn’t feeling much of the cold or bite from the air with mittens and being bundled quite warmly. Normally she would have objected to the invitation and preferred the toasty warmth of the indoor fire and tea or a book, but she wasn’t raised to be rude and so….Valeria slowly settled along the stone bench before the fire, Clotho on her shoulder shifting at the change in stance and the warmth of the small fire she undoubtedly felt.

“Apologies, I know I’ve been quite the recluse. I’ve been trying to catch bits and pieces of my memories. Been doing a lot of reading and a bit of soul-searching coupled with trying to be more social. I’ve made a friend or two – or so I like to think! And then there is my work within the archives. I keep busy but always within my limits. I’m glad you decided to marry my sister, these halls are better off with a bit more life in them now. You, Wyland and on occasion your sister or business partners coming and going. It’s…well it’s really nice.”

Mindful of the temperature, Osric reached over and carefully gathered the kettle off the small Isghardian stove, pouring its contents into one of the small cups - tea…because of course, Wyland would prepare tea - and then into the second before replacing the kettle to keep the remaining contents warm. He offered one of the cups over to Valeria. “You don’t have to apologize…I could have taken steps to sit and speak with you and it’s good for you to keep busy. And there have been, -” he trailed off, looking around the gardens for a moment, “- so many changes in the last few weeks. I think it fairly understandable that there’s an adjustment period.”

“For all involved, really but I don’t mind it so much.” she smiled gently and took the offered cup. Again, there was that small smile before he took a sip of his drink, his gaze turning towards the fire. “I am glad to be here, and that in being here there’s been more activity in the halls. The hope was that things changed for the better…not to make things more difficult.” He licked his lips quickly before giving a small shake of his head. “But tell me a bit about this soul-searching you’ve been doing, hm…or about your feathered friend here. Your sister mentioned a pair had been gifted by lord Gray, I take it this is one of the pair?”

“I can’t see how they would make anything difficult. The house is big enough for a small village it feels like on some days.” she paused and blew across the top of the cup to take a quick and careful sip from the rim. Instantly the warmth found her bones. Nodding, her free hand lifted and the crook of her knuckle stroked gently at the front of Clotho’s feathers, “Mmmhm! This is Clotho. She’s sweet. Very much still growing and I’ve really gotten used to taking her almost everywhere with me. The company is…well, it doesn’t seem like a lot but it’s nice and really comforting.”

She held her smile and bi-colored eyes drew back across to her brother-in-law, “Well… getting to experience the things I couldn’t before when I was both away from home and then being bedridden. I guess I have a little bit of a new outlook on life.”

“Well, for what it’s worth - I’m  glad you’re getting to experience new things and have a new outlook, and it doesn’t have to seem like a lot to anyone else.” He lifted his cup and took another small sip. “...when one doesn’t have any company even the smallest company can be incredibly comforting - I can certainly understand that.” Again, he gently cleared his throat, “You…um, mentioned also working at the archives, yes? You seem to stay incredibly busy…” Was it an attempt to keep the focus off of him, maybe?

There was a small twitch to her brow as they downturned, her attention settling on her mug and how awkward the response had been with the small pauses in between. She really wasn’t certain how to bridge that gap of empathizing with someone she barely knew. So, she reverted to the only thing she knew and that was to offer a reassuring, small smile despite him pointing out the obvious, “Not quite, but it’s enough for me at the moment. I enjoy the work. Books and relics, artifacts, and the like. It always fascinated me.”

Osric blinked slowly. “Really? My uncle…” the way he said the word had the slightest hint of malice, but it was quickly glazed over as he continued, preferring to speak of other matters besides his deceased kin, “- often brought back artifacts, books, relics, things of the like from assignments - they were rarely accounted for. He was not a ‘by the books’ type of man. I believe I brought many of them with me, if you’d like to have a look through them, see what may be valuable, or at the very least interesting.” 

He balanced his cup in one hand, the other reaching up to rub the back of his neck - a habit. “I’ve no idea what’s worthwhile in the collection, versus what isn’t…it would be nice to have someone with a keen eye for such things take a look at it.”

"Perhaps. At the very least you could showcase these artifacts of yours. Have them conserved if need be and you could even donate them to galleries I'm sure if they're not an interest to you – by the sounds of it, they're just items collecting dust." Valeria looked over and she drank her tea once more.

“At the moment they are, yes.” His statement was accompanied by a small nod. “Maybe sometime when you’ve some downtime we could sit down and go through the lot - I didn’t think it would be right to leave it at the estate…well, now the barracks, to be destroyed, but telling what was worthwhile versus what wasn’t - that was more Kenward’s interest than mine.” There was a quick shake of his head. “But those items aren’t going anywhere…” His attention turned back to the falcon, “-Clotho, correct? What type of training have you been doing with her - she seems quite comfortable with you.”

A small knit came to Valeria’s brow as she quietly listened to Osric speak, trying to absorb everything, “Alright. I can go through it but I’m not entirely sure what you want done with the items. I certainly have no use for them, though I know the archives would be happy to take any and all artifacts donated.” she would have elaborated more but the conversation quickly changed and she smiled, finger lifted to brush at Clotho’s feathers once more, “Yes. Damien named her for me and it’s been her name since.” she looked back to Osric and nodded lightly, “Small game hunting, Damien has given me steps on how to let her hunt, naturally and I can send missives with her. That’s just about it so far but she’s mostly been getting to know me, and I am with her. Feeling comfortable with one another is a work in progress but there is progress so that’s the main thing.”

Noticing the change in her demeanor he exhaled, deciding that the change in topic was clearly the correct choice. He hummed thoughtfully before taking another sip of his tea. “It seems earning the trust of a falcon is quite the challenge. How often are you getting to train with her? It sounds like the progress is moving along at a fairly steady pace the way you describe it.”

He reached down and picked up another log, tossing it into the fire pit before reaching over for the kettle to refresh both his tea and hers which Valeria had gently declined with the motion of her hand.

“I’m training her right now. Being outside and her on my person – she’s quite relaxed. Damien has been teaching me quite a lot and I’m learning as we go. I’ve learned about the things she’ll eat, the type of things she can do, and even how she sees the world around her. Damien has trained her before he gave her to me but I had to put in the rest of the work.”

Valeria lowered her hand back to her lap and aimed to finish the remainder of her tea to set the empty cup aside. She knew that she had felt well enough and the tea was nice enough to warm the bones but being outside for too long – while her body still recovered – could have been one wrong choice away from contending with sickness in bed. Not something she had wanted to endure while so weak and still recovering.

Slowly the cloaked woman stood and she smiled down to Osric who remained seated, “Try not to stay out here too long, you won’t want to catch your death. I’ve almost forgotten how quickly the weather in Ishgard can change on a gil.”

He glanced up with a small smile and a nod. “That it does.” He turned his cup between his hands, a particularly brisk breeze blowing through at that moment. “It was nice getting to chat with you, Valeria…I do wonder though…” He lifted his cup, taking a sip as he gathered his thoughts for a moment. “How has Damien been teaching you these things if you’re supposed to be keeping away from him?”

A gentle chuckle escaped the woman, “He taught me when he gave me the bird before your wife shut me in. Plus, falcons can deliver letters and I happen to have wonderful penmanship.” she offered a small joke as she bowed her head down to Osric.

“Pleasant evening, my Lord.” With poise, the Cress twin turned heading towards the house, a finger coming up along the front of Clotho’s chest to stroke at the soft plumage there.

Collab writing with @spirit-speaking