#sharing them like flowers scattered around the field

[sunflawyer]

i need to start posting doodles daily and fill # jimmy mcgill tag with sunflawyer.... share them to the world nyeheheh

bcs fandom people... shows you abby... she's canon in the show if you squint your eyes a lil bit 🧡

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

Skz Energies

Chan: I can’t quite describe it. His energy probably resonates the most with me in terms of familiarity and similarity which also makes it harder to describe for me. But his energy kind of gives me the vibes of sleepovers in the winter but not in a cold way, in a warm and cozy way. Like no matter how cold it is outside, inside it’s warm and calming. With coffee, tea, or hot chocolate, curled up under the covers watching your favorite movie but not even paying attention to it because you’re so busy talking and gossiping, while there’s chaos around you but it’s more easing than overwhelming. Almost like a found family environment that he just naturally kind of…Emits. I feel like he withholds things more because he’s afraid of…Offending people? But he also likes to talk and talk and overshare. Sometimes gets off topic.

Minho: Very calm and relaxed. Like a river or ocean at night. Gentle waves, moving slowly with the flickers of light on the surface. Calming. Like the scent of the air right after it rains. But there’s also something expensive about it. Calming and easing yet also closed off. You know you shouldn’t go close or get in, no matter how much you desperately want to. Vague in the sense of only shares what’s necessary, but also speaks his mind with 0 fucks given.

Changbin: What’s the energy equivalent of mouth diarrhea? Dunno. His energy is very lively and almost childish to me? Not in a bad way, but in a sense that it’s very easily excitable and bright. Not necessarily pure, but trusting despite the damage. Like a dog. His energy reminds me of sunny green fields with flowers and bees and butterflies. I fucking hate bees but that’s beside the point. Also with a stream running through it. It reminds me of green, yellow, and the scent of nature without the animal shit.

Hyunjin: Highly depressed. Sometimes passionate and likely, sometimes down in the dumps and gloomy. It flip flops. Leader of the oversharer squad. He reminds me of the scent of rain. The sounds of rain, too. Like sitting by the window while it’s raining and the sun is setting. Curled up with a warm drink and art supplies, headphones in listening to music. That sort of vibe. It’s almost like his energy latches onto these readings to finally be able to get out how he feels and what he’s holding inside. Sometimes it also gives the vibes of when you’re so depressed, drained, and burnt out you can’t even move, or hold anything. Like you’re numb, and drifting. There’s something expensively antique about it.

Han: He reminds me of a cold bath in the best way. He over shares sometimes but also doesn’t do too much? His energy is scattered but also present. Kind of like warm, salty fries and vanilla ice cream. That’s what he reminds me of. Just sitting around anywhere, eating fries and ice cream while the world around you is still moving. Time doesn’t seem slow. It’s just right. Not fast, not slow, but just…Moving. There’s a sense of normalcy, but not in a boring way. More in a sense of contention with the world just being as is.

Felix: His energy is very warm and welcoming. Almost like when you’re a child and you’re just laying in bed with your parents, under the covers snuggled up with them and their warmth. They’re so large and you’re so small but you feel so warm and calm. Like nothing could ever happen. It’s bright and naive and innocent but not manchild-like and more…Painfully optimistic. Again like a dog. No matter how much they’re hurt, they still trust and love unconditionally, whether it’s returned or not. He shares a lot but doesn’t quite overshare? He knows what you can handle. But he also keeps things to himself. Like he doesn’t want to ruin others’ perceptions of him. He reminds me of the smell of cinnabar.

Seungmin: His energy reminds me of laying around in bed talking shit with your best friend, drinking wine and watching trashy reality TV. He shares what he wants and doesn’t share anything he doesn’t want to. Not even in a manipulative way, but in a “Why do you need to know that?” Kinda way. And I live for it. He’s blunt and doesn’t care to spare feelings. He doesn’t give a shit. There’s always a dry humor to his responses. But you can also tell he cares very deeply for people and things.

Jeongin: He reminds me of a bright sunny day in the park just walking aimlessly, talking about any and everything while you just do whatever. He’s definitely the one with the most mellow energy. Just calm and…I don’t want to say normal but normal. Not too broken or depressed but not unrealistically happy or optimistic either. Just average. Not even in a bad way. It’s very refreshing. He also readily gives information he’s comfortable giving and doesn’t give what he doesn’t wish to. He reminds me of the smell of lavender.

[sugarygetoo]

flower fields where love is grown

-> pairing: diluc x fem! reader.

-> cw/ tw: none

-> wc: 1.2k

-> an. hi y’all! i’m so excited to be able to share this fluffy story to help y’all heal from the angstyness that yena has been posting. i did my best with going through and editing this to make sure it’s the best for you all! i hope everyone enjoys <3

main masterlist. | genshin impact masterlist.

✎ xoxo, viz

The field of asters and cecilias were not a common sight together but they fit perfectly, complimenting each other in a uniquely simple way. Accompanied by the gentle blowing wind and the sweet, sweet smell of flowers paired with delicious desserts. A small but elegant stone cottage sat in the middle of said flower field, giving the most beautiful sights that someone could enjoy. 

In the antique window of the cottage, sat the master of Mondstadt’s wine industry himself, reading a newspaper and drinking some homemade dandelion tea. Not far from the redhead sat his wife, sewing up one of his damaged coats that had torn from one of his battles as the Dark Knight Hero.

Nevertheless, the couple quietly enjoyed each other’s company as they had their respective cups of tea beside them. A vase of cecilias and windwheel asters were placed on the table between which Diluc and lover sat. 

Now you may be wondering, ‘how did someone as serious and grumpy as Diluc manage to get married? Especially to someone as sweet and gorgeous as his wife?’ Well, it’s a simple question really. They met in this very field. Where their love grew like the flowers  they planted together.

6 years before: the sun gently shined down on Diluc’s fair skin, the sky sparsely filled with fluffy white clouds and the sound of a gentle breeze blowing through the man’s red hair. Diluc had decided to take the day to go on a walk around Mondstadt, specifically in nearby open fields that sat close to Dorman Port. Diluc had been in the area to attend some previous business from the day before. His work at the winery and as the Dark Knight Hero was causing him a lot of stress and he really needed a break.

When Diluc arrived, he was astonished by how pristine and verdant the land was. Cecilia flowers scattered around the vibrant forest green fields while a feminine figure sat in the middle, drawing away in a sketchbook as she sat on a white and red polka dot blanket.

The closer he got, the more details he could see of her. Her skin glowed under the sun's gaze. Her simple white dress was sewn with patterns of beautiful cecilia flowers, her hair styled to compliment her dress perfectly while a simple flower crown made of cecilia's had laid on her head. The temperature was perfectly warm, the cool breeze keeping the temperature comfortable to work and travel in.

Soon he stood behind her, not daring to touch the blanket where she sat or utter a single word to her, feeling increasingly more nervous the longer he was near her. He could hear an amused giggle escaping her soft lips as she continued to sketch what seemed to be a traditional Mondstadt dress concept design, notes beside her sketch book detailing the important information that needed to be included.

“I know you're there, you don’t have to stay so silent. It’s just the two of us here, ya know.”

She teased with an amused tone. Diluc did not speak, how could he when in the presence of someone with such beauty and kindness radiating from their soul. She couldn’t help but to continue to giggle at his current silence and shy reaction.

“Why don’t you come and sit down with me, sir. I’ve got plenty of room for another person to sit. Besides, I could use the extra company.”

He remained silent, but regardless, he sat down beside the lady. Keeping his distance and holding his tongue to avoid any conflict or troublesome interactions. The two introverts did not speak much to each other while they sat together. Diluc could only watch how the blowing wind affected the nature around them or glancing over occasionally at the woman’s work silently. 

The quiet atmosphere around them was peaceful and comfortable. This one time unique chance meet ended up turning into a once a month meet up where they would quietly sit together in the same field. Either working on their respective tasks  or cloud gazing with each other quietly under the gentle shining sun. The two were only 19 at the time this first started, but soon their love for each other would grow.

After a few meetups, Diluc would come more frequently as they’re friendship progressed. The month apart would turn into every two weeks then that would turn into a once week meetup. Everytime, Diluc would be greeted with a gentle smile and excited expression from the woman he had learned to grow to love. He learned that her name was (name) and that she was a seamstress from Dorman Port. She inherited this field from her grandparents, so she would come here every day to enjoy the verdant surroundings while also taking care of the land in return.

The more they saw each other, the closer they felt on both a physical and emotional level. She understood him in ways that he didn’t know was possible. More than his father or his brother or even himself. The two of them could feel the attraction between them blossoming into something deeper. 

Eventually, Diluc asked (name) on a date which was excitedly accepted by her. They ended up having a picnic in the field, chatting and getting to know the other person better. They laughed, they smiled and ended the date with cloud gazing, holding each other’s hand and giggling like young children again, despite being 20 years old now. 

The couple had gone on many more dates over a stretch of a year. Whether it was being on walks around the forest near the cecilia field, planting some windwheel aster seeds and helping them grow nice and strong, or heading into the main city or the Port to do a bit of shopping together. 

Anyone that had a functioning brain could tell how strong the love they had for each other was. They were each other’s soulmates and the other half of themselves. They loved each other so much that Diluc made sure to propose to his lover with the prettiest ring he could find. As soon as she saw the ring, she immediately started to bawl her eyes out and cried out her joyful acceptance.

They ended up married the next year and started working on their small but cozy stone cottage in their flower field. The couple’s hope was to use the area as a venue for their small wedding  and later use it as a family cottage home.

4 years after getting married, they were now expecting their first child in about seven months time. Diluc chuckled at the memories of their younger days together. Soon getting up to give his wife and mother of his children, a gentle kiss on the lips and on her growing belly too before leaving the house to grab more wood for their fireplace. 

This field of cecilia and asters is where their love grew and continues to grow; where they first met, where they shared their first kiss, where they got engaged, where they got married and now where they will be starting their family together.

@ sugarygetoo, all rights reserved.

[afi-writes]

The Greatest Treasure of the Dragon

Ship: Kenshin x female reader with curly hair Rating: Mature Summary: When Kenshin arrives home you are lost in literature and don't pay enough attention to your man. He isn't pleased with the fact and decides to mark you as his once more.

This fic has been written as a commission for @himezuru-ichimonji-no-saya.

My commissions aren't currently open but you can sign up on the waiting list by contacting my main blog @afi-mukami.

The garden is full of scents that waffle around you. You can’t help the smile that spreads on your lips as you enjoy the play that the bunnies have arranged for without asking. Such funny creatures. It’s almost like a blessing that Kenshin enjoys having those furry critters around.

Hopping and leaping, the bunnies make the most of the sunny moment of the afternoon. A burst of laughter erupts from you. Not wanting to scare the animals, you lean down, breathing in the last autumn flowers that are still blooming.

“My lady, please forgive me for the intrusion.”

When the maid’s voice reaches your ears, you spin around, swaying your curly locks behind your back. “Yes, what is it?”

You keep the smile on your face even though you can see how the bunnies scatter in the darker corners of the inner garden. Haa… it might take a while before they have gathered enough courage to come out again.

“I was asked to deliver this to you, my lady.” The maid roams closer and bows her head, lifting an item wrapped in a patterned cloth. An expensive one, you assume.

“I see.” You take the package from the maid’s hands, and she straightens in front of you. “What is it?”

“I did not dare to ask.” The maid glances around as if checking if there isn’t anyone lurking in the shadows even though that should be clear, for this garden is in Kenshin’s private quarters. “But it is from lord Kanetsugu. I believe he included a note.”

The maid bows once more, taking a few steps backward. No doubt in a hurry to leave the garden. You can’t believe that you truly are that intimidating. Kenshin, yes. But you? Has his aura stuck on you as well?

“I apologize for my leave.” The maid keeps proceeding without turning her back on you until she is at the door and slips into the castle.  You don’t ask her to stay. Probably this is for the best.

Since the woman has left you alone, your focus turns to the package in your hands. The cloth has a pattern of cranes in a misty autumn field. You can’t help but wonder how expensive such a fabric would be in your time… and here as well. It would alone make for a gift.

“I wonder…” You press the package against your chest, wandering out of the garden and into the room you share with Kenshin. Leaving your sandals out, you walk to the table in your socks and sit down on the pillow.

Bit by bit, you wrap the cloth open. It feels thick and well-made against your fingertips. Enveloped in it is a book you have not seen before. Curious!

As you open the cover, you face a handwritten note. Some time ago, you would not have been able to read it. Now, you can, thanks to your persistent efforts to master the ancient version of the Japanese language. You might be still slow, but the words no longer keep secrets from you.

Thank you, my lady. This is a collection of poems I have collected over the years. I copied them for you as a reward for your services. — Naoe Kanetsugu

“Ah, he shouldn’t have.” The words sway out of your mouth like waves. But you can’t stop smiling. Of course, you didn’t help the man out in hopes of getting a prize. Yet, you can’t stop the warmth coursing through you when you know he has acknowledged your input.

You put the note aside and dive into the book. Since the bunnies are hiding, you have time to lose yourself in the fragile beauty of the written word.

You can’t but admire the choices Kanetsugu has made as he has handpicked the poems. With each piece, it’s not only the meanings of the combined words but also the utmost beautiful manner in which each character is copied. It must have taken him forever to make this collection for you. Every single poem in the tome is a piece of art that is ready to steal your breath away.

Vaguely, you hear as the door slides open and steps roam in. “My love… I’m home.”

Without lifting your face from the page, you nod. “Welcome home, Kenshin.”

Ah, such an enchanting expression. How can someone even come up with something like that? The way of using words and playing with them is near perfection. Does the original poets have some natural talents or has someone been teaching them? You burn to know! The next time you see Kanetsugu, you have to ask him about this poem selection.

You barely notice how Kenshin moves across the room, his feet tapping on the tatami as he closes in. Sighing with bliss, you turn another page, letting yourself dive into the next waves of words while Kenshin sits down next to you and starts to toy with one of the curls you have let stay loose today.

Another sigh pusses past your lips, as the new poem takes you in a whirlpool of emotions. Kenshin brushes aside your hair, revealing your neck and covering it with kisses. You giggle and wiggle but turn a page once more. Ah, such delicate handwriting. You are in literature heaven. This isn’t just a book but a full experience of delight.

Suddenly, fingers snatch your source of happiness from you.

“What is this? Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” Kenshin’s voice distills sour bitterness as he starts to go through the book.

“Kanetsugu gave it to me,” you say, not wanting to keep secrets from your love. Meandering a bit, you turn to face him. “Those poems are simply stunning.”

“Why?” The word comes out harsh as Kenshin’s sapphire and emerald eyes capture your gaze. There is a furrow between his brows.

“Oh… well… they are written in such dedicated handwriting and the way how the words dance on paper…”

“Why did Kanetsugu give you this?” Kenshin asks again, tossing the book on the table. The slapping sound as the cover hits the wood strikes you directly in the heart.

“I ended up helping him another day with something and I guess he felt like he should return the favor…” You try to keep your voice steady but still mumble more than speak. You can tell that Kenshin is angry from the way his eyes flash.

“I will kill him!”

Kenshin shifts like he is going to get up. Hastily, you grab his shoulders, pushing him down even though you know he is much stronger than you and can easily even tie you up if he wishes. Still, you can’t let him go to Kanetsugu, not for this. Of course, he wouldn’t truly kill his vassal, you have learned that by now, but there just isn’t a reason to say anything to Kanetsugu at all.

“Please, Kenshin. Let it slide. It’s nothing,” you try to crack some sense into your man’s heat-clouded mind. “It was simply a gift, nothing more. There is no need to…”

“Do you like it more than the gifts I gave to you?” Kenshin’s voice grumbles into your ears. He takes your hands off his shoulders, wrapping his fingers around your wrists, and pulls you a bit closer.

“I can enjoy gifts in different ways.” At the instant the words leave your mouth, you know you have made a mistake. This was not the answer Kenshin yearned for, the answer that would have soothed his troubled mind and heart.

“Only I am allowed to give you the perfect gift.” Kenshin leans in, glaring at you. “I’ll go and find something better than that book!”

Kenshin rises, hauling you with him. You stagger in his grip and gasp for a moment from the sudden movement.

“Kenshin, please… You don’t need to do such a thing.” You sigh, tugging your wrist slightly in hopes that Kenshin would release you and you could brush his cheek. Yet, he doesn’t give you a chance.

Looking directly into the eyes of your love, you try to make your voice as calm and collected as possible. “Gifts aren’t that important to me. I don’t care about having pretty items or clothes because I already have the most valuable gift I can imagine.”

“The book?” Kenshin’s voice is like acid, and his fingers clench around your wrists even harsher, forcing a whimper out of you. Instantly, he loosens his grasp but still doesn’t let go of you.

“No, not the book.” You swallow a new sigh, not wanting to annoy Kenshin more. “You, you are the most precious gift I have ever received. Since I have you, I don’t need anything else.” Rising on your toes, you place a kiss on his chin. “Please, forgive me if I gave you a reason to think otherwise, but I swear there is nothing I cherish more than you.”

Silence spreads between you two, filling the air of the room with its stickiness. You can’t help the squeeze around your heart. You would never want to hurt the one you love, yet now it happened because of your insensitive actions.

“Fine. I won’t kill Kanetsugu…” Kenshin releases your wrists, only to envelope you with his arms. “...for now. But he better not piss me off again by courting you.”

“He isn’t courting me, I promise.” Finally, you can touch Kenshin’s face and draw your fingertip along with his chin line. “I’m all yours.”

Kenshin groans. “He should see it.”

“I’m sure he does.” You press one hand on Kenshin’s shoulder, rising on your toes once more to place a kiss on his lips.

Kenshin tightens his grip on you, squashing you on his chest as if he is afraid you could be spirited away right in this instant. His gaze is still painted with jealousy and possessiveness before he lets his thick lashes land on his cheeks and captures you in a proper smooch. A rough, all-consuming smooch that is about to wipe your feet under you, but Kenshin catches you, scooping you in bridal style and dashing you both across the room without freeing your mouth from the prison of his lips. Only when he lays you on the futon, he allows you to gasp for air.

“I will make Kanetsugu see to whom you belong…” Kenshin snatches your obi, starting to open it as you wriggle against the futon. “I will make everyone see. They won’t dare after that…”

“Kenshin…”

You entwine your fingers with Kenshin’s hair, but he doesn’t even peek at you. Not now, since he is busy getting your obi open. The silk belt surrenders him, and he tosses it to the other side of the room while the kimono on you slides down your sides, baring your belly to his burning gaze.

Without hesitation, Kenshin pushes aside the rest of the fabric, revealing your breast for his touch, uncovering everything you hide under your layers of robes. The air in the room isn’t exactly cold, yet it is cool enough to force your sensitive buds to peak. As if that was a cue, Kenshin abducts one of them in the heated cave of his mouth, dancing his tongue around it while toying the other with his fingers. A moan erupts you before you can restrain it, and you arch on the mattress.

As in a hurry, Kenshin’s hand leaves your breast and travels down toward your navel, bypassing it only to reach your throbbing heat. His actions have already started to soak your depths, and warmth flashes on your cheeks as you know for sure that he will notice the fact. You whimper, tugging his hair as he makes his thumb trace your pulsing pearl while sneaking two other fingers closer to your entrance. You are jerking your hips up before you even realize it. More, you need more of this.

Kenshin keeps torturing your nub while slipping his fingers in, two at once, pushing a whine out of you as the swirling fingers stretch you wide, finding just the right spot. He truly knows how and where to touch you. Today, his fingers move fast, thrusting in and out, curling over your special spot and then reaching deep. Not even for a moment, his thumb stops tormenting you.

At the same time, Kenshin’s mouth travels up, nibbling its way forward. He sucks the sensitive skin of the column of your neck so harshly that you wail. Not minding your lamentations, he keeps nibbling and sucking while his fingers make their magic between your thighs. You are melting and squirming, turning into his personal swamp to drown in. Slip, wet sounds mix with your moans as you arch against him yanking his hair with every shove of his digits.

A groan escapes Kenshin’s mouth against your neck. “I need to claim you as mine…”

“I… am… yours…” Your words mingle with your whines.

But apparently, reassurances aren’t enough for Kenshin. With a swift movement, he unplugs his fingers from you, leaving you throbbing and yearning for release. Licking the digits clean, he gazes at you.

“I hope you mean that you want me this very instant…” Kenshin’s yanks open the traps of his fur-collared cloak and slings it on the tatami. “...because…” He finds the front belts of his hakama, unknotting them. “...I have…” With impatient motions, his hakama along with his kimono end up in the same pile with the cloak until he is in all his naked glory before you. “...reached the limit of my restraint.”

Steadying your breath, you enjoy the view to the fullest. Every battle-hardened muscle, flattering collarbones, and the tiny trail of hair that marks the path from his navel toward the shaft which looks like it’s more than ready to make you wail.

“I'll make you mine.” Lowering himself over you and leaning in, Kenshin secures one of your ankles with his grip. “You will only think of me.” He folds your leg up, placing your calf on his shoulder. Right after that, he wraps his fingers around his hardened member, guiding it on your pearly gates.

Biting your lip, you ready yourself. Yet, a tiny whimper escapes you as Kenshin hits in, roughly and deeply.

"Don't stifle your moans.” Kenshin pulls almost completely out only to ram into your damp depths once again. Growling, he presses his body against you and stretches your thigh along the movement. “Let me hear you."

You throw your head back on the futon, lips parting and letting out a cry of pleasure. Kenshin takes your wrists, shoving them against the mattress as he sinks himself into you again and again, at an unrelenting pace, your leg swinging with every push.

Toes curling, clenching around Kenshin's merciless member, you turn into a moaning mess. He conquers you, claims even the most secret parts of yours, the realms that belong to him and to him only. Without a doubt, you are his and willing to surrender your everything in his hands, letting him take your body in the way he enjoys. And more than that. With every plunge, your hearts are tied closer like you are becoming one single being.

Suddenly your moans are drowned by Kenshin’s lips that imprison yours. His tongue slithers into your mouth, tangling with yours. He lets go of your wrists and presses even closer, your leg gliding down his upper arm until he allows it to meet the futon. But you’re not willing to stop there. You need him closer, deeper. Embracing his waist with your legs, you thrust his butt and cry into his mouth as he hits just in the right spot. Wrapping your arms around him, you haul his chest against your breast as he continues his merciless bouncing.

“You…” Kenshin groans onto your lips. “...are…” He sucks your tongue before pulling your lip. “...mine.”

Your skin rubs against Kenshin’s as you lose yourself in the tango of two bodies, hearts and souls. Hips meeting hips, you take Kenshin in with relish over and over. As he pounds in, massaging your perfect spot each time, your tongues entangle together, almost becoming one. There is nothing separating you two. Everything is revealed, nothing remains hidden.

Kenshin leaves your lips but only to attack your neck again. Harsh sucks equal his rough shoves, making you whimper even more under him.

The sparks lit under your skin, tingling through you from your core to your head and toes. Whirls of bliss wipe you as Kenshin makes your garden bloom. Petals of pleasure scatter around you and you become a storm of gratified flowers, exploding to the sky. You whine and whimper into Kenshin’s mouth, in his arms, arching against him and squeezing him again. Again. Again! There is no end to it as you sob at the pleasure that ties you to him.

“My love!” One last rough shove. Kenshin’s hips bounce, his member piercing you. He tenses over you, groaning your name onto your lips and shooting his load of love and lust deep within you, filling you up until you are soaked both from your combined salacious sap of feverish joys.

You breathe in, breathe out, your heart still hopping like a scared bunny. Kenshin brushes your sweaty curls off your face, gazing down at you with his mismatched eyes. “Now, you are all claimed, all marked as mine.”

Nodding, you still can’t muster out a word.

“Was I too rough?” There is a hint of worry in Kenshin’s voice as he caresses your cheek.

You shook your head.

“I can't stand the idea of someone else courting you. You should be only mine forever.” Worriedness is turning husky.

“Don’t worry… I'll always be yours.” Your fingers tremble as you cup Kenshin's face, stroking his sweat-covered cheek with your thumbs. “You are the greatest gift I have ever received. There is no way I would let go of you.”

Finally, a weary smile wavers onto Kenshin's lips. “And you're my greatest treasure of all time. I love you.” The words meander into your heart, making it beat faster again. You beam as you pull Kenshin into a new smooch. “I love you as well, my love. With all my being.”

[alpydk]

A second prompt!

Tav had to survive the main story because they have vengence to dole out on someone from their past. When the day finally comes, either they can't do it or someone else (maybe Gale?) gets to the target first.

~🐕

Greetings Anon! Thank you for the precious angst prompts which I'm taking at random. I present you with the first one, which, as they always do, went a little off course and probably hasn't gone as you want it... Oops. But I hope you like it and it does have angst!

Red Roses

Word Count - 1513 words - CW - Angst, grief, God!Gale, themes of death, attempts at poetry.

It started with red roses, The smiling of a wife And flowers bloomed with welcome sun The beginning of my life.

Tav looked over the letter for some time after the party, the heartbreak apparent to everyone around her. It had been six months since the defeat of the Netherbrain and their minds had become their own, but it didn’t take tadpoles to know the thoughts running through her head. Gale had been there only moments before, power emanating from his pores, his eyes aglow like starlight, and she had fallen to the floor as he’d left her with nothing but the tears she’d held onto in hope now falling so readily.

This was not the first loss the high elf had been through before in her long life. There had been the human friends who’d passed because of their short lifespans, there had been the authors and poets dead to adventure, there had been so many during the Thay war, and the pain remained the same, but the loss of a loved one never got any easier. After the death of her first husband, she’d sworn never to love again, and she’d become cold to the world around her, refusing to share her past or open up to others. It was only as she’d journeyed with Gale that Tav had found herself back in her memories of her first love.

“Ascal, the poetry can wait,” she whispered, leaning over the shoulder of the chestnut-haired elf. He smelt of birch tinged with ink, and she breathed in his scent.

“My dear Tav, my muse and inspiration, poetry waits for no one. It comes with the shine of your eyes, the flush of your lips, the golden sun of your hair.”

Life had been one moment of happiness after another with him. She’d sat in the window of their small cottage as the rain had poured, watching as the petals of red roses bowed with the weight of the heavens, listening as Ascal plucked at his lute and mumbled lyrics of bright-eyed damsels under his breath. There had been picnics in fields of wildflowers, Arbor Coast White shared between them as the stars shone above them like remnants of the past, each one a soul watching down upon them with nothing but blessings.

It was not long later she learnt the harshest of life’s lessons, though, that death was but a word away.

Walking along the forest path, fresh flowers picked in her basket, Tav didn’t initially catch onto the smell of smoke that rose amongst the trees and wilds around her. It was only as the shadows built up that she saw the darkened plume that spread out above the tree line, heard the distant crackling of flames and the shout of those who lived nearby. The basket was ditched on the wayside as she started into a run, knowing deep in her heart where the source of the fire was and she longed to know that Ascal was safe, that he’d be stood outside, covered in soot but with a grin on his face.

It started with red roses, But soon plunged in the knife. The thorns as sharp as broken glass, The ending of my life

Time heals all wounds is what Tav had been told repeatedly and as an elf, she had plenty of time, time to mourn, time to grow angry and cold at the world. Nobody knew how the fire had started that morning, only that it had occurred suddenly with no witnesses. The flames had spread quickly throughout the wood and thatch of the roof, through the various books Ascal had insisted they kept, through the Arbor Coast White that left shards of glass scattered in the ashes. Nothing had remained of the life she had once known. There were only the ruins that crunched beneath her leather boots and the memories of stars that no longer shone for her.

Twenty-seven years had passed since that day, the ache still as fresh, the guilt still in her mind that maybe she could have done something differently that day. If she’d stayed at home, maybe she would have smelt the smoke and got them both out; maybe if she’d been quicker, she could have put out the flames or found him before the cottage collapsed. Maybe she could have just died with him. She’d tried to find the source of the fire many times, but all she had been left with was confusion as neighbours had denied there having even been a fire, as some questioned who she even was. Nothing made sense and even the gods refused her pleas for answers.

The first she really connected with after all those years was Gale. His poetic prose reminded her of all she had lost. His chestnut hair that smelt of sandalwood and ink brought her to those days of rain on rose petals and each moment she spent with him, she found herself back with Ascal once again. Mumblings of bright-eyed damsels and conjured fiends of wildflowers and stars only for her made her smile once again. She felt happy. It was only as the days passed she realised how different Gale was from her husband, how, although he had hope, he lacked the mindless optimism she’d once known. He was much more ambitious than Ascal had been, as hurt as she was, and filled with a self doubt she’d only ever seen in herself, but it was these qualities that drew them together. Their loneliness spurred them both into each other’s arms with reckless abandon. Again, she had loved, again her heart had driven her forward, and again the stars had shone down.

It started with red roses, But soon came down the scythe. And petals turned to darkened ash, The ending of my life.

Tav had been tempted by Gale’s offer of godhood, but she knew she couldn’t take it. She couldn’t see Ascal from another plane and not be able to reach him, and she couldn’t let go of her own mortality knowing what currently lay at the end of her life. Though she loved Gale, Ascal was what her heart called for, and she needed to know what had killed him before she could move on. Looking at her with disdain, Gale left her upon the shores of the river, and she knew the opportunity would never be presented to her again. It was as she unfolded the letter, though, that she knew she had made the right choice, as her tears began to fall, not with grief, but with a buried rage.

Does he live within his mother’s ageing heart, weeping for those roses? She could see the scarlet petals in front of her eyes, the raindrops on the windowpane. She saw the young boy with chestnut locks and deep brown eyes that lived nearby as he ran through the storm with a book hidden under his arm. It had once been a pleasant memory, but now she knew the truth. Rumours had gone round of strange happenings with the child, of sparks and flames he couldn’t always control and the watchful eye of the goddess Mystra ever present in his life. They had just been rumours, but now the dots connected as if constellations in the sky and she knew. Tav knew how the fire had started with flames licking upon the roses, how the neighbours had forgotten, thanks to the goddess, how Ascal had died alone and afraid.

She struggled for breath, trying to understand the cruel joke of the gods, how they would hide the truth from her, how they would use fate to bring her and Gale together. She wanted to find out if he had known all along about the fire, or had he been the pawn of Mystra back then, just as she’d seen during her travels? Her heart ached with anger and the fresh mourning of both Ascal and Gale alike, and it took everything in her to not scream to the sky and curse every god above.

She’d once been fuelled by vengeance; of the words she would say and the actions she would take, but now she had been left with nothing. There would be no justice or closure for her. The one at fault she’d allowed to ascend, and his name would be spoken for centuries to come, either in reverence or scorn. She, however, would be nothing but a footnote in history, a wilted rose petal on a dusty windowsill, a single conjured star as the magic faded.

Tav wiped away the tears from her reddened cheeks and left the party alone, anger replaced with numbness and resignation. All she could do now was wait to die, hoping that the gods she now cursed would take pity on her and let her find comfort in the arms of Ascal, let her see the stars shine and the roses bloom once again.

It started with red roses, And nights of shared breath. The petals delicate in my hands, The beginning of my death.

[naughtystiel]

Golden light bathed their surroundings, vivid green leaves of a tree that they were sitting on looked like tiny pieces of stained glass against the sun. On the other side of the tree, on a thick branch was Dean, his eyes sparkling with joy when he glanced at Castiel. Small shadows danced on his features like a kaleidoscope, so mesmerising it was hard to look away.

Castiel’s fingers fumbled with the hem of a tee that he once had stolen from his best friend, so long ago the material started to wear thin in some spots. It was battered, but it was his favourite piece of clothing he owned. As he chewed on his bottom lip, pleasant breeze tousled his dark curls that gained a few lighter strands from the time spent out in the summer sun. The wind carried Dean’s quiet humming, one of songs that they used to listen to on an old walkman. Sometimes they sat on a hill and stared at the night sky, sharing a set of earphones, accompanied by music from a mix tape they had created together.

The branch creaked underneath him as he shuffled in his spot, trying to change his position. His best friend gave him a curious look, his face pressed against dark bark as he wrapped his arms around the tree, “What are you doing?”

Clumsily, Castiel hung his legs over and swung back, his arms now swaying slightly, the tips of his fingers brushing long grass underneath him. In result, the gravity pulled his tee down, covering the blush that spread over his cheeks, “Hanging.” He mumbled and Dean barked out a laugh, “Yeah, I can see that now. Don’t stay upside down too long or all the blood will rush to your head.”

Suddenly, Dean jumped off the tree and walked up to Castiel. A brush of fingers on his torso made Castiel shiver, but all Dean did was lift the tee up to expose his friend’s face, and grinned, “It’s already working, buddy. Your face matches the shade of fuschias in my mom’s garden.”

In lack of any good comeback, Castiel stuck out his tongue like a child and tried to swing himself enough to be able to reach the branch again. His fingers slipped on the crumbly bark before he could get a good grip, but instead of the hard landing that he embraced himself for, was met with a pair of strong arms. For a second, relieved about being saved from possible bruises or fractures, he laughed. Then, it occurred to him that he was, in fact, still upside down and his rear end was shoved right in Dean’s face. Squirming in the tight grip, he tried to wiggle his way out, but instead made his friend lose balance and they tumbled down to the ground. Once more, embarrassed, Castiel crawled away from Dean who was laughing so much his whole body was shaking, “Are you okay?”

Dean nodded and swatted a blade of grass away that kept tickling his nose before pushing his hair back, “Yup, all good. Let’s go!” Before Castiel knew it, his legs were carrying him after Dean, who held his wrist while running towards bikes that they had left nearby. As they cycled on a path that divided two endless fields, wildflowers scattered all over them, they tried to let go of the handlebars, spreading their arms wide open. Any negative thoughts fled from Castiel’s head and got replaced with the carefree feeling, with pure joy of just existing in the moment. Sweet scent of flowers followed them and Castiel took a few deep breaths that filled his lungs with the smell of contentment. The feeling travelled through his whole body, seeping through his bones right to the core. In this moment, nothing else mattered.

An uneven sandy patch made his front wheel swivel and without his palms on the handlebars, the bike turned right into the tall grass that cushioned his fall. Before he could get up, Dean’s hand was already waiting for him, reaching out to be grabbed. So, with a grateful smile, Castiel accepted and got pulled up, “Dude, you gotta stop falling.” His friend teased, but Castiel’s heart quickened its pace. Combined with the previous rush of adrenaline, it was basically hammering against his chest.

“I can’t.” he blurted out, but before Dean could question him about his strange answer he grabbed the bike and jumped on, pedalling as fast as he could, “We’re racing to the lake!” he called out behind his shoulder, a mischievous smile on his face.

“You’re cheating! Stop distracting me then!” Dean yelled back, quickly mounting his own cranky bike. It was hard not to laugh around him and it was one of the reasons why Castiel was glad that he could call Dean his best friend. In fact, his only friend, but spending time with Dean made him feel like he wasn’t lacking anything and judging by how Dean acted around him, he felt exactly the same. Some would say that they acted like kids, and perhaps they were, a pair of kids with scraped knees trapped in bodies of people who had already lived for over twenty five years. Selfishly, he hoped that it would stay like this for many more years to come.

The path they followed turned right, but there was a shortcut through a field with short green grass that Castiel decided to take. Soon, he let the gravity do its thing and the bike accelerated on its own, speeding down a hill. A sound, close to a howl of joy, erupted from his chest when he lifted his legs up, tightly holding onto the handlebars, so he wouldn’t fall.

Again.

Dean’s own laughter could be heard just behind him, so Castiel knew his friend was catching up with him. All too soon, the lake appeared in front of him and when he pulled onto the brakes, they didn’t work. Panicked, he tried to stop the bike, repeatedly pulling onto the brakes, but it did nothing against the speed he had gained cycling down the hill. Then, accepting his fate, he held tight and let himself go down with his ship. At first, the cold water was like a shock to his body that was warm from being exposed to the sun, but soon enough it became pleasant. His head resurfaced from beneath the lake, his wet curls sticking to his forehead. Heavy drops of water dripped down his face and eyelashes, making his vision slightly blurry. To his surprise, he found himself not being injured, apart from a small scrape to his elbow.

“What the hell happened?” Dean laughed, jumping right onto Castiel that was attempting to fish his bike out of the lake. When he managed to push Dean off, uncontrollable laughter echoing around them, Castiel swung his arms so they made contact with the surface, and splashed his best friend right in the face. After a short splashing war, they were both breathless, with huge grins on their faces, “Peace?” Castiel panted, reaching his hand out to Dean, who nodded and shook it. Together, they got the bike out to the small wild beach and rested it next to Dean’s. Once that was done, they took off their tees, leaving only shorts on, and hung them on a bush to dry.

The sky started to turn dark blue with a layer of orange hues dividing it from the trees on the horizon. The atmosphere shifted alongside with the changes in their surroundings, from energised to more sedated.

Castiel had known Dean for so long, that they were able to communicate without the need to use words. With a small nod, they started gathering twigs and small branches that later got placed in a pile on the sand. Back in the water, they found some bigger stones and used them to surround the wood. Dean reached into his pocket, the wet shorts still clinging to his body, and pulled out a lighter, “Here goes nothing.”

At first, there was no flame, but after shaking it a few times an orangey glow appeared. Their gaze locked and Castiel wondered if his eyes were mirroring the happiness that he could see in Dean’s. Using some dry leaves, they set the bonfire aflame and sat down, their legs crossed. The gap between them was small, but immediately Dean scooted even closer, so their knees brushed.

The warm glow danced on their features and the cracking sound of wood slowly being burned by the fire created a comfortable bubble that they occupied. They sat there, enjoying the private smiles and glances in between songs that they sang, warmth spreading within Castiel that wasn’t caused by the bonfire in front of them. With Dean, he felt content, whole. There wasn’t anything that he would change about their friendship.

Perhaps, apart from one.

His fingers itched to entwine with Dean’s, he wanted to rest his head on his friend’s chest and listen to the steady and comforting heartbeat. Finding out what Dean’s lips tasted of was a mystery that he wanted to solve, so so badly. But he restrained himself, for years.

The songs died out as time passed, the sky darkening with every minute until stars started to appear and lazily blink over their heads. Castiel got up, wiping off any sand that stuck to his shorts, and checked on their tees that were now dry. When he turned to pass Dean his, his friend was right in front of him, an unreadable expression on his face. Something shifted in Castiel’s stomach, concern and worry replacing the carefree feeling, “What’s wrong?”

Dean reached out for his tee, but his fingers lingered on Castiel’s, “Nothing, I just…” he trailed off and shook his head, finally grabbing the piece of clothing and pulling it over his head.

“Dean, we’re best friends. You know you can tell me anything.”

The man visibly hesitated and chewed on his bottom lip, averting his gaze away, before taking a deep breath and locking his gaze back with Castiel’s, “That’s the thing. What did you mean when you said that you couldn’t stop falling earlier? Do you ever wanna be-”

“Yes.” Castiel blurted out, cutting off Dean’s question. He could be wrong, maybe Dean didn’t intend on finishing it with more, but God, he hoped he was right, because otherwise he would fall apart. Now, that the possibility was so close, he would do anything to launch himself onto it and hold tight.

A pair of soft lips connected with his and Castiel’s heart rate quickened once more. The kiss was slow, tender and they poured every unspoken feeling that accumulated throughout the years of their friendship into it. Now, it could bloom into something more. But maybe, it was always there, slowly creeping up until it quietly settled down and waited to be discovered.

When they parted, their foreheads rested against each other. Without any more hesitation, their fingers entwined with a soft brush, “This is love. Right?” Castiel smiled and Dean nodded, “Yeah and there’s so much more on my tongue so take a bite and let it linger.”

[tubbytarchia]

I’ve put together my best guess I have a feeling I’m very wrong

Three hearts: Tango

Loads of hearts: Joel

One heart: Martyn

“Not the worst but usually don’t help Jimmy’s case”: Grian (?)

Doc: Doc (I liked this one)

Sky flower happy field: Scar

Asshole (to Jimmy): Fwhip (?)

Sex pest: Sausage

Death squiggle: Scott

I will never forgive you: Gem (Never would have gotten this)

Healing shared trauma: Pearl

I don’t know why I put question marks next to some I’m confident on like 3 and one of those is Doc. Also I realised you said not to guess so if this ruins the fun just ignore me. I just spent too long on this and I’m curious if I got it but I’m cool to remain curious forever

Womp womp. Just kidding, ding ding ding!! You only mixed up Joel and Martyn but that's on me because the thumbs up I drew for Joel does look like a heart, doesn't it... Congratulations, you win, you matched the horrid Jimmy relationship chart with 90% accuracy, thanks for taking part in my really awful gay maze gameshow you win nothing!!!

Brief reasoning: Pearl: Jimmy and Pearl could have the most lifechanging conversation just between the two of them and understand each other in a way that no one else can. I believe in them. They can do this. The hardest part is just to get them to talk in the first place

Tango: big heart, big love

Martyn: more complicated, but still love, lots of little hearts scattering around for everything from Evo (I have so many feelings about Evo solidwood) to Secret Life

Joel: Thumbs up cause he's a bro. Doesn't know Jimmy's horrors and is a mean bean but cares a lot for Jimmy at the end of it all...

Grian: yeah Doc: yeah

Scar: I enjoy the idea of them frolicking around in some cut scene of 3rd life. Scar's carefree self should have playfully run away with Jimmy from their partners and just frolicked around and allow Jimmy to be a little carefree too and free of the horrors if even just for a tiny bit. Also the Empires x Hermitcraft stuff fWhip: sorry but most of what I've seen of fWhip and Jimmy is fWhip being mean to him if even playfully, or expressing disappointment/disapproval of Jimmy in some form. BUT I'm very curious to see more. I think fWhimmy could still be redeemed for me lol I have no doubt that they've had some cute moments and such...

Sausage: Pretty much the same but with Sausage's vaguely dirty jokes etc added into the mix. Like how he enjoys to see Jimmy suffer or made a fool of (even if he claims otherwise smh) and the m*id ordeal

Scott:

Gem: Jimmy got wrangled into jousting Gem but Gem killed him and then she forced him to wear a skin that gave him a pacifier and uhhh more. I will never forgive her

[dragonofthestone]

(For Tim's father) (@experimentalfma )

The most recent roll of film had finally been developed, and Hughes held the packet of brand new family photos close to his chest, a warmth already blossoming inside him at the prospect of seeing all of those recent memories brought to life. He'd planned on reviewing them with Gracia once he got home, but a quick peek on the way back wouldn't hurt.

After a quick glance upward to make sure he wouldn't walk into anyone, he gave in and dove into the packet, his smile growing with every photo he flipped through. Unfortunately, however, he was sidetracked enough the didn't look up as he automatically rounded the corner and bumped straight into a man on the other side of the sidewalk, scattering photos all around them.

"Sorry, guess I got a little distracted there." Hughes smiled apologetically and bent down to gather the fallen photos, breaking into a wider grin as he held one up for the stranger. "But how could I not be? Adorable, right? She just turned four last month, and we brought her out to the field to pick flowers for her party. My wife was trying to teach her how to make flower crowns, and I still have the one she made me. Have you ever seen someone working so hard on making one so beautiful?" In the photo, Elicia wore an exceptionally concentrated expression as she tried to figure out how to weave a few flowers together. As far as flower crowns went, it was barely wearable, but in his eyes, it was perfection he couldn't help but share, even with a perfect stranger.

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

It had been a long time since Nikolaos had set foot in Amestris, let alone central. Back when he was a much younger man with quite a few less grey hairs, and not even a wife or kids to speak of. In truth despite the current problems between the countries he did miss traveling and had even missed Amestris itself.

The city had changed quite a bit many more buildings then last he remembered, many quite tall as well. Far different from the quite countryside town back home.

His cane lightly tapped against the stone sidewalk as he took in some of the sights, only wishing he was there on better terms. The chances of actually finding Tim seemed slim but he'd had to take the chance, while cautious to whom he spoke and what he said he still held some hope that someone may know something. Perhaps he should try getting in contact with the man from Dublith, he'd helped him once years ago before and if anyone knew anything.. he might.

Whump

Rather unexpectedly he found himself stumbling back a couple steps but managed to keep balance, photos flying everywhere and fluttering to the ground he placed his cane on top of one before a breeze could take it away.

Carefully he crouched down letting go of the cane to help the younger man gather up the photos, many of which seemed to have the main focus of a rather darling little girl.

"It's alright, no harm done," He smiled. Nikolaos could spot a new parent a mile away and this man fit the bill for sure, while every parent adores their children there was always that extra special something about ones first.

As the man continued Nikolaos paused from gathering to look at the offered out photo, the flower crown in question was clearly barely being held together and very well may have fallen a part not long after the photo, but one couldn't help but admire a child's efforts no matter how poorly the attempt end up. He couldn't contain a light chuckle quite endeared by the photo and reminded of when his own was that small,

"I see, if she keeps working like that I'm sure she'll be making plenty more in no time."

[cloudypariah]

omg glass blower Rudy!! Tell us more please there is not enough love for this man

Gladly. We simp for Rudy on this blog, end of story. Speaking of which, here’s a little bit of his backstory.

Glass blower!Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

Warnings: none, just fluff and slight angst

A/N: My blog (and its contents) are 18+ only. Minors DNI. Link to the Task Force 141/Los Vaqueros Artist AU masterlist here!

Rudy learned everything about glassblowing from his abuelito. The patriarch of the Parra family is a very disciplined and knowledgeable man who - when his grandson showed an interest one day by sneaking into his workshop after hours - took the time to pass on that knowledge to a young and curious Rodolfo.

Rodolfo apprenticed under his grandfather for years, building his skills and perfecting his techniques. And thought there were many occasions where Rudy wanted to give up after watching one of his creations crack, his abuelito pushed him to continue, reminding him that nothing great was ever achieved without repeated perseverance.

He noticed early on that his grandfather sometimes worked well after the workshop was closed, but it was never on a customer order. And when Rudy finally had the courage to ask him what he was working on, his grandfather would tell him sharply, “It’s for your abuela.”

And every single time, the creation was a flower.

Just one flower.

Rudy means to find his muse, the one theme or topic that most artists capture and focus on for their careers, but all he can focus on is flowers and how his grandmother’s eyes would light up every time her talented husband gifted her a glass flower - a fragile but vibrant thing of beauty that she would always cradle and cherish no matter how big or small.

The flowers are scattered around the house like fond memories; tulips, roses, marigolds and more decorated the house, casting wonderful colours whenever the sunlight hit them.

Rudy never doubts his grandfather’s devotion to his grandmother, for he had seen up close (and attempted on several occasions) the process for making such a pretty but delicate thing.

Yet Rudy quickly noticed the lack of sunflowers. He asked his grandmother about it at dinner a few years back, who grasped his shoulder gently and with a small, soft smile said simply, “The first time your abuelo saw me I was dancing through a field of sunflowers. That flower is just for us. Now eat up.”

And when he hears the senior Parra refer to his wife as ‘mi girasol’, Rodolfo begins to understand what it means to love someone to the point of creation.

At some point his grandfather asks him to take over management of the workshop and its few employees, and without hesitation he says yes.

His abuelito still pops in from time to time to make more flowers. Rudy would never dare to put a stop to that.

But every day that he puts on his leather apron, he thinks about the love his grandparents share and wonders when he will find his own girasol.

[red-n-stuff]

Thunder Only Happens When it’s Rainin’

The morning after the interrogation, Darlin wakes from a dream reliving their past. Guilt ridden and aching though they are, Sam is always there right when they need him.

It was some time towards the end of May. They remembered the time so clearly because the school year was coming to a close. DAMN was closing into summer break and Graduation caps had been ordered. The fields of wildflowers up on the foothills were starting to go to seed. All except the late blooming yellow asters.

Those yellow asters stuck out vividly in their memory. The smell of them often followed them home. Crushed into the grain of their skin. The petals finding their way into the edges of their shoes only to fall out and scatter the floor with small reminders of him. To their keen nose, Quinn always sort of smelt like the asters. Like something tangy and tart. Not fully there unless you were looking for it.

Strange, that a fragrance-free flower held such a scent based memory for them. Though, truthfully, they weren’t sure if Quinn smelt like the flowers- or if the flowers just smelt like Quinn.

The day leading up to their time on the hill was a haze, they couldn’t remember if it was a weekend or a weekday, though in the end it didn’t really matter. The setting was the important part anyway. The sky was orange and growing purple around the edges. A warm summer evening, the sun finally gone enough to be safe. Quinn’s Mustang was parked at the bottom of the hill by the trail they climbed together. Quinn playfully shoving their shoulders, and Darlin trying to trip him as they raced. They sat were it was flat, shoulder to shoulder. Asters brushing at their legs.

They were sharing a cigarette. The last of what they had been able to nick from their mom, lit with the lighter Quinn said he had stolen from his dad some long, forgotten time ago.

There was an unspoken understanding between the two of them. Up here, looking out onto the distant city lights, the rest didn’t matter. Not the hurtful words, or their family falling to pieces. Up here, they were something Precious. Two best friends on a perfect day.

At some point, they leaned their head onto his shoulder. Both their fingers brushing as the second-to-last drag was passed over. Quinn’s shoulders rising on the inhale, cheeks filling with it followed by a slow exhale chased by smoke. Handing it back to them, where they left the butt between their lips to ruminate.

Self destructive habits always seemed less unhealthy with a friend, and wrapped in the last of the days light, even adverse things felt healing. Even looking back on it now, they struggled to find the warning. The stop sign. Any indication of what would happen the deeper they fell. They couldn’t stop their reactions to him- not even the way their heart leapt as Quinn reached between them to curl his hand around theirs’. Not even when he rotated his hand to clasp their fingers. Not even the fact that, deep down, they knew the meaning of the gestures were wildly off balance. They didn’t regret a second of it- and maybe that was what made the truth of it so hard to swallow.

They remembered the way Quinn looked at them. The feel of his thick hair as it brushed against their neck when they turned to look up at them. His eyes were mischievous. Sort of on just this side of hazy. They had an oily sheen that made him look…tired- but then again- that wasn’t something that ever really changed. At the time, seeing him on that hill was their favorite. He looked…at ease. Relaxed and in turn, that made it easier for them. He was still and calm, and that was enough.

They often wondered if maybe they’d smiled with too much truth at the time, and that’s what caused it. If they’d flashed some semblance of the carefully repressed longing they’d been concealing. If there was some fatal flaw they may have missed. Either way, they were sure the outcome would have been the same. The atmosphere was too strong. It didn’t really matter who leaned in first.

Quinn reached up unexpectedly, fingers deftly plucking the cigarette directly from their mouth in a bold gesture that took them slightly off guard. They couldn’t take their eyes off Quinn’s lips as he took the final drag- not even as the smoke escaped in whisps like a promise from the back of his teeth. Exhaled like a question. Eyes not leaving theirs’ for a moment.

They had frozen, but they hadn’t tensed. Their cheeks had darkened. Eyes unwavering as Quinn crushed the cigarette into the dirt and shoved the butt in his pocket of his jacket.

Without a scrap of forethought, they had suddenly reached over with their hand curling around Quinn’s nicotine-stained fingers. They had guided his palm to rest firmly in place against thier cheek. Holding him there as their gazes held. Quinn’s breathe caught audibly in his throat, but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t scramble back in a moment of panic. The dare to hope coiled around their bobbing throat like barbed wire. The chance at fulfilling that ever present something ache that had burrowed in their chest. It was there- right in front of them in the form of blinking eyes full of tension, and raw stress-bitten lips half parted in apprehension.

They leaned in before they could talk themself out of it. Under the internal assurance that they’d come too far to stop now, they pressed their lips chastely against Quinn’s. A soft brush, a question.

Quinns hand tightened where it held his in the dirt between them. They could feel the soft gasp of air after the single second of pressure.

They didn’t recall when they’d shut their eyes, but they held them tightly closed. Unwilling to face the potential negative consequences they may find when they opened them. However, instead of a firm slap, they instead received an answer. Quinn had shifted closer, their foreheads pressing together solidly.

There was something akin to a fatal moment of hesitance in the breath between them in that moment. Like the feeling of knowing what you’re doing is wrong but falling headfirst into it anyway.

Quinn kissed them soft and sweet and slow, and of course they were weak to it. They couldn’t stop the rush they felt, the sparks that crackled behind their eyelids. Couldn’t stop the way they drew Quinn closer.

Their lips met and parted in quick succession, lengthening with each fresh press that Eventually dissolved into an extended kiss. One that felt like their lips were magnetic, both pulled and pushed by the force of suppressed want, and, oh how badly did they want him. They wanted to gather him up by the scruff and kiss him again and again and again until they were drunk on it. They wanted to taste all the bittersweet honey of nicotine and brown sugar.

Quinn shifted to press in closer, and they happily fell back against the ground. Those sunny-faced asters bobbing around their head as their lips slowly began to part. Above them, Quinn offered a breathy laugh, tinged by his accent. Their eyes opened just long enough to see the full force of Quinn’s quirked smirk before he laid down, tucking his nose against their throat.

“Tell me precious….Have you ever been bitten by a vampire?”

The scene faded around them, and their fluttering eyes slowly peeled open to the light that filtered in through the honey colored curtains like water. It bathed the room in warmth and comfort. Beside them, Sam was still asleep. Back pressed against their own. They could feel him breathing steadily.

For a moment, they were still disoriented. Lost between their past and their present. They inhaled slowly and exhaled again quietly.

A dense ball of prickling dread solidified in their stomach. Guilt made their scalp prickle.

They smacked their lips- expecting the taste of iron and nickel that accompanied their nightmares, but instead found only dryness and the memory of the cheap cigarettes they’d long since given up. They held as still as they could, blinking slowly as the memory of his touch faded against their hands.

It was hard to believe that once- sometime far away, in another lifetime, they had looked at Quinn and seen a future.

“I can hear the gears whirrin from here Darlin’” Sam’s husky voice arose from behind them, startling them from their thoughts. Still damp with sleep, he rolled slowly to face them. Tucking his nose up into their shoulder blades. Pressing a long, slow kiss against the knobs of their spine as his hand brushed against their hip. A question for consent.

They exhaled slowly, pressing back into his hold to encourage the arm looping around them securely.

“Dreamin?” Their mate questioned, lightly rubbing his thumb against their hip bone. His voice was twinged with concern in that way that betrayed his worry. Like he was trying not to press the issue, but he couldn’t help but care.

They nodded, throat feeling too sticky to answer.

Sam made a low sound of acknowledgment, tightening his arm slightly around them as he shifted up to press a kiss or two across their shoulder. His lips a bit chapped and rough against the delicate skin. The bare skin of his chest pressed warm and flush against their bare back.

“Do ya needta talk about it?” He asked, this time voice a little softer.

After everything that had happened yesterday, they felt guilty needing more. Needing him to hold them tighter. Needing to confess everything Quinn hadn’t already spilled.

They thought it over for a few moments. Through all of this- confiding was still hard. Vulnerability was still hard. The fight against their first instinct to hide everything they felt. The fight to just be themselves in that present moment. Their exhaustion helped to soften them.

“It was a memory,” they murmured after a long moment of silence, glad they weren’t facing him to say this. “Of Quinn…of before…before everything went to shit.”

Sam squeezed their hip comfortingly. They took the quiet time to try to sort through the swell of emotions that came with the admission.

“I…it’s hard to believe we ever…worked.” They murmured, curling in tighter on themselves. “That I..that I ever..did what we did.”

They sighed, rolling over to press their nose into his chest. Scrubbing a hand over their face.

“It’s alright Darlin,” he soothed, likely for the hundredth time in the span that he’d known them. Eternally patient. “Thunder only happens when it’s rainin’ after all…seein’ him again, and him…” he drew in a slow, steadying breath. Darlin could smell the spark of anger he tried to quell. The sent like gunpowder. “And him doing what he did…there’s bound to be stress that’s reopenin’ old wounds.”

“Yeah..” they affirmed quietly, worrying their lip between their teeth for a moment. Guilt rising in their chest. It hadn’t been a bad dream though. The shame and embarrassment of it left a bitter taste- but the memory itself was something like fond. One of the few handfuls they had of Quinn just being normal. It felt wrong to have any fondness when it came to that man.

“Just feels wrong.”

They heard Sam restrain a sound. Not sure fully what it would have been, but sure it was frustration. Sam’s fingers reached to slide gently through their hair, petting them slowly. Massaging their scalp.

“It ain’t wrong to love, Darlin..” he whispered, “it ain’t your fault he did what he did…people like that only love you when they’re playin sick, twisted games.”

He gently kissed their forehead, and they slowly let their eyes droop closed.

“You just feel whatever you needta feel, and dream whatever ya need to dream.” He squeezed them tighter, “we’re gettin through this. Together. Come hell or high water.”

They released a shuddery exhale, overcome with their love for this man. For the gentleness he shared with them. The delicate touch to all their broken scars.

“I…I’m so thankful for you.” They murmured against his skin.

“And I’m thankful for you Darlin’” he squeezed their shoulders tenderly, “ain’t a hair on your head that I don’t count amongst my blessin’s.”

Their lip quivered, and they pressed their face as hard as they could against his collarbones to stifle the rise of tears. They wouldn’t cry again. They wouldn’t.

Sam’s hand slowly rubbed the middle of their back, pretending like he didn’t notice the way their breathing changed or the salt against his skin.

“Let’s just stay in bed.” He soothed, “go back to sleep…we’re not in a hurry. I’ve got you Darlin.”

They nodded weakly.

“I love you, Sammy.” They whispered through choking breaths.

“I love you too Darlin.”

[chloecherrysip]

This is probably starting to get annoying, but here are a few more scattered, silly thoughts about the mario movie. :)

(Did I go see the movie again for the 4th time in theaters last night? YES. Is that an excessive amount of times? YES. Have I spent a ridiculous amount of money at this point? YES. Do I have any regrets? NOT EVEN THE TINIEST BIT, NO.)

Trust me, I would be totally honest if I was starting to get bored, but I'm really, really not??? I had a really tough, busy week and I just wanted to be able to relax and have a good time and it was delightful as always!!! I left feeling so much happier. I'm already thinking about going to see it next week again! No one and nothing can stop me!!!! Other than possibly my bank account, LOL.

Obviously the reunion hug takes the lion's share of the focus, but I just want to express my undying love that Luigi and Mario share MULTIPLE hugs before we even get there, and that's not even counting moments at the beginning and the end where they have an arm around each other in kind of a half-hug! They are wonderfully, unabashedly affectionate and it's the best thing in the world!!!

As much as the family is teasing Mario & Luigi about their commercial, I DO appreciate that after their dad's insensitive comment and Mario leaves the table, all the adults genuinely look a little taken aback and stare at the dad (except the grandpa who is in his own little world lol) as if to say Wow, Not Cool. Like, it seems like saying something like that would even be a step too far for the uncles! I just like that there's subtlety and layers to the family stuff, and no one is portrayed as being 100% a jerk (even if some of them have some jerk-ish qualities like the guy stealing food from poor Luigi XD)

ALSO: in fanworks, I've seen several people allude to the bedroom Mario's shown in as being only his bedroom - I was watching those scenes closely this time just to confirm to myself (because I'm annoying about being as accurate as possible, haha), and it's DEFINITELY both his and Luigi's room! It goes by quick, but you can see another bed with green sheets in the far corner of the room clearly in at least one shot, both in the Brooklyn version and in the Mushroom Kingdom version. For some reason, it just tickles me that it's SUCH a small little inclusion and not really necessary, they could have just left it ambiguous whether they actually share a room or not, but nope, that detail is there if you are looking for it! :)

Y'know, even when Mario is dragging Luigi into a dangerous situation and jumping down through what is essentially a WHIRLPOOL into the sewers, he STILL stands at the bottom and waits/watches to see that Luigi makes it down safely after him before moving forward. OVERALL A SILLY THING TO DO but, as he always does when it comes to Luigi, Mario has those extra moments of care and attention. :)

Peach going on and on about how small Mario is will always just make me smile, I'm sorry XD IT'S TRUE (and I love how he's just like "yeah, yeah, make fun of me if you want" and moves on to the important stuff without actually getting mad, it's clear he's heard it all before)

I JUST LOVE MARIO IN GENERAL. I LOVE HIM IN THIS MOVIE???? I LOVE HIM, ALL HIS LITTLE MOVEMENTS AND MANNERISMS. HE IS JUST THE SWEETEST, BRAVEST LITTLE MAN AND HE DESERVES MORE APPRECIATION

I might make a separate appreciation post but here is a shortlist of little things I love: his little "I don't want to eat this" wiggle-dance when first trying to eat the mushroom, the bashful way he kicks up his feet and holds his hands behind him when he's standing next to Peach in the Flower Fields, the way he just cutely, awkwardly WAVES HELLO at everyone wherever he goes (in Toad Town, through the crowd as they're leaving the castle, even to the Kong Guards), how he's genuinely excited to see Donkey Kong's kart for a split second before DK's "I hate you" comment, how he saves DK in the water with NO hesitation at the risk of his own life because he is just a deeply good person, etc etc etc.

As much as I deeply wish that this movie had an actual scene where Mario gets to talk more about Luigi to his new friends and the dialogue wasn't always operating at Maximum Efficiency, I DO appreciate that there are still those couple of beats where you are explicitly reminded that Mario is doing this, ALL of this, for Luigi's sake and only that. The one that got to me this time is when Peach and him have that sidebar before the DK fight where she's like "this is a REALLY bad idea" and his retort is: "well, do you have another way to save my brother!?" And then you see him go on a little face journey where he's calculating things before agreeing to the fight and proclaiming that yes, he WILL win. BECAUSE HE WILL DO ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING FOR HIS BROTHER AND IF THE ONLY WAY TO REACH HIM IS TO FIGHT AND WIN, EVEN IF NO ONE BELIEVES IN HIS ABILITY TO DO SO, THEN BY GOD, HE'S DOING IT. ANOTHER REASON THAT I LOVE HIM!!

The aesthetic of the shattered Rainbow Road pieces glowing in the ocean around DK and Mario (and then inside the eel) is genuinely very beautiful and I always love the effect of it!

I'M SORRY, I CAN ALSO BE VERY CRITICAL OF THIS MOVIE IF I WANT TO, BUT HOW COULD ANYONE - ANYONE - WATCH MARIO AND LUIGI WREAK ABSOLUTE HAVOC AND DESTROY BOWSER IN PERFECT, EFFORTLESS UNISON WITH THE SUPERSTARS MUSIC PLAYING AND NOT FEEL ABSOLUTE JOY??? That sequence is actually perfect, and the music is even MORE perfect. Every time, I hear it, I feel exhilarated and light as air and like anything is possible! HOW COULD YOU NOT THINK IT'S MAGICAL??? HOW??? [STANDS ON TOP OF A MOUNTAIN AND YELLS] HOW????????

Something that I have never noticed until this last rewatch and caught me genuinely offguard is that when Bowser's in the jar and Mario makes the "told ya I'd get you a turtle!" comment to Peach, if you're paying attention to Bowser, he actually does a "hardy-har-har VERY FUNNY" fake laugh as he's being all pouty, and I laughed outloud at that.

ALSO IN GENERAL, I AM SO PROUD OF THIS VERSION OF THE CHARACTERS AND THEIR WILLINGNESS TO PUT BOWSER IN ACTUAL JAIL!!!! HE DESERVES JAIL!!!! Like, I get that we're all very sweet and forgiving here and he's usually allowed to just slink away in most of the games, but seriously, HE COMMITTED VARIOUS WAR CRIMES FOR INCREDIBLY STUPID REASONS, THANK U FOR PUTTING HIM IN JAIL

The last scene with Luigi and Mario doing their handshake and then Luigi just full-on playfully poking Mario in the belly before running off is the CUTEST thing and also has the most Younger Sibling Energy of basically anything in the movie, lol. He also does it to him in the opening scene! I loveeeee ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[ask-sibverse]

Sundown (Shard's old verse)

"You sure we shouldn't add churros to the basket? He loves the darn things," a deep voice said.

"I'm sure Core. The chocoflan will pack just fine for dessert for the trip," the other voice said.

"I don't know. Did you buy the good containers for storing the taco stuff, Nightmare?" Core asked.

"Core, you know I did. Calm your slippery tentacles. You are gonna wake Dreamy," Nightmare replied. He was busy packing up the last of the basket, making sure the juice drink he made was safe in the thermos to keep is chilled. Today was a big day for Dream after all and he wanted to make it special. His cyan eye turned purple for a moment as his corruption decided to talk again.

"You think he will like it? We really haven't let him explore the other aus yet because he is so young still," Core said with their mouth.

"You worry too much Core. I think he will love the sight. I've been keeping this place hidden for nine months now since we found it," Nightmare said. "We didn't get a chance to celebrate last year because Dreamy broke his arm during it and was in too much pain. He forgot all about it. Plus the major panic attack and nightmares about being stone again..."

"It will be fine. Dream is a tough kid. He is your twin after all," Core soothed their partner.

"Yeah. Lets go then," he replied as he walked to their shared room. Dream refused to sleep without him and he couldn't blame the now ten year old. Even if they weren't the same size anymore, he liked the closeness of his twin. "Hey Dreamy. Time to wake up brother," Nightmare said as he gently shook his brother awake.

Dream woke up with bright eyes and looked at his bigger twin and tackled hugged him. "Nighty! I had a dream where we were climbing mom and we were up so high that we saw the stars even in the day time!"

"Oh that sounds like a wonderful dream," Nighty cooed over his brother. "Mom would shake whenever we climbed her."

"Can we visit her?" Dream asked. Nighty looked away.

"Maybe another day," Core interrupted. "Don't you want to see what the surprise is first that we've been telling you about all day?"

"Oh yeah! You guys promised a surprise!" Dream cheered as.he got out of bed and ran to the closet to find clothes to wear. Core laughed at that while Nightmare thanked his partner for distracting the kid.

"Make sure to pick warm clothes. Its a bit chilly where we are going," Nightmare said.

"Sure sure!" Dream called out a he threw clothes around the room to find the perfect outfit for himself. He eventually picked out purple sweatpants and a golden sweater that had a bumblebee on it with the words *I'm a Cutibee!*

Nightmare chuckled as he helped the kid dressed. "Okay let's head out then," he said once Dream was ready. He opened a portal and the three of them went through to one of the many space aus. This one was on a planet that had purple grass with closed flower buds scattering about as the sun was still in the sky. It was just a field with a single lavender tree with pink leaves swaying in the wind.

"Oooohhh this is so pretty Nighty!" Dream shouted as he ran around the place. "Why are the flowers not opened?"

"Have to wait a bit for that kiddo," Core said. "They bloom when the setting sun hits them."

"That sounds awesome! Then I can make flower crowns!" Dream yelled around as he kept exploring the area.

"Don't go too far. I brought food," Nightmare called out. He smiled as the child ran as he set up their little picnic area. Once ready under the tree, he called Dream back and they started making and eating the tacos.

"What's so special about today?" Dream asked.

"Well, today is your 10th birthday," Nightmare said "Happy birthday Dreamy."

Dream's eyes widen at that and he laughed in joy. "If its my birthday its yours too Nighty! We are the same age!"

"He's got you there Nighty. 510 years old the pair of you. How you feel old man?" Core snickered.

"That makes you 502 today then Core."

"Oh shush. Corruption doesn't age. Just like we have no feelings. Just because we met 502 years ago doesn't mean anything," Core said.

"Corey! It does mean something. That is the day you came into our lives and became family with us! That should be celebrated too. I know it was a hard day for all of us, but we need to make happy memories today now!" Dream said.

"When did my brother get so wise?" Nightmare chuckled as a tentacle rubbed on his head.

"When you started reading to me," Dream giggled back.

The three of them spent eating and drinking and then got into a tickle match which Dream won despite it being two to one. Core decided to switch sides at the last moment. The sun was setting as they ate and soon it was reaching the point it was going to disappear. Nightmare settled everyone down and pulled Dream into his lap, tentacles wrapping around him to keep him warm.

"Its almost time," he said.

"Time for what?" Dream asked.

"Watch."

As the sun hit the edge of the world and a bright flash of light came from it, the flower buds started to glow blue and bloomed one after another. Transparent blue petals and blue crystalized centers erupted all around them, filling the purple field with a blue mist as they shimmered in the darkening sky.

"Its so pretty! I wanna draw this!" Dream said as he moved from his brother to check out the flowers. He started picking some and came back and was working on a crown.

"Yeah. Not many people know about the place either," Nightmare said.

Soon Dream was done and put the crown on Nightmare's head. "Now you and Core have a present from me! Its so pretty how the flowers glow against the goop."

Core and Nightmare laughed at that. "So it does. Thank you Dreamy," he said as he pulled his brother close and they both hugged him tight.

"Best birthday ever!" Dream announced.

"Best birthday ever," Nightmare agreed. Looking where the sun went down minutes before and smiling in earnest. They went home once Dream fell asleep.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #167 (Part 1)

Sephiroth, I am VERY tired and I'm in a LOT of pain right now, so it's a little hard to think, and I'm not sure how good this letter's gonna be, but like I said, I had an awesome time at the place, and I have so many pictures to share with you and so much to write about!! So much that I'm gonna hafta break today's letter up into parts because I can only put like 30 images in here at a time!

So, J and I left early yesterday to go to the airport. The airport we went to is special because it's got campsites and bicycles we can use! Naturally, I got a lot of pictures for you on the way to the place!

This one of the biggest cities around:

If you look closely, we kind of have a weird skyline because of this one building called The Egg, and this other building we have that is the New York State Museum. And then we have some other buildings which are kinda neat, like the 4 identical skyscrapers near the bigger skyscraper. I have a closer picture, one sec:

That oval-shaped building with the white top, immediately to the right of the tallest skyscraper there is The Egg. Apparently, it collapsed during construction several times before it could be completed. And then the short box-shaped building with the dark line going across it, right in front of the 4 identical skyscrapers is the New York State Museum! One of these days, I gotta go back there and get some pictures of the little dioramas for you; it's a super cool place!

I also ought to get a picture of some of our other buildings for you; some of them are made of pretty glass, and others look like castles. You can't really see them in this one, but someday I'll snap a good picture of the buildings I'm talking about; then you'll see!

Anyway, here are the rest of the random pictures I took along the flight; I just snagged up anything that seemed interesting; these are the few that were good enough to make it into today's letter:

I liked the shadow cast on the ground by these clouds:

...I really love the geography of my world. It's maybe not as stunning and dramatic as the geography of yours, and the animals of mine are certainly much, much less dangerous. But it's still a good world, even if it might seem a little boring as compared to yours.

When we got to Parlin Field, I immediately wandered all over the place, taking all sorts of pictures for you!

Parlin Field has a lot of flowers, some of which I've not seen before, so I thought you'd like these:

This purple one here is clover. If you pull out the little flowers from the greens, there's a little nectar on the bottom that's very sweet:

Here, I found a single dandelion poof!!

...I scattered the seeds and made a wish. Can you guess what for? I'll give you a hint: it's the same wish I always make:

These are not dandelions, but they look kinda similar. I'm not sure what they're called; there are A LOT of plants that look like dandelions in my world:

...I hope with all my heart that you enjoyed these!

Well anyway!!! That's the end of this part of today's letter, because I literally cannot put any more images in this one!!! Gimme just a little bit of time to write up the next part!

I love you!! Stay safe!!! Don't eat weird things off the ground!!! Don't accidentally sit on cacti!!!! And don't die!!!!

Your friend, Lumine

[amberlide]

Hexed

“My touch is the only one your body will crave." Chapter 1 - A midnight encounter

Summary: What should have been a quick and easy job for her business partner Sacharissa, turned into an unexpected meeting with the most dangerous student at Hogwarts. Warning: non-con fantasy smut (characters are aged up!) only +18 Word count: 10k Garreth Weasley x OC (Penelope, my OC) Tags: !Dark Garreth, very OOC, forced kiss, forces sex, oral sex (male receiving with instruction), rough sex, anal sex, aphrodisiac, blackmail. Additional tags: Penelope might be virgin but she's not a saint, full Weasley treatment, crossdressing, Hogwarts is a scary place. AO3 link the fiction is still going on :) A/N This is my first time sharing a non-con fantasy, so I'm nervous and anxious and all of that. If you are interested in this work, please let me know, as I'm willing to write it for myself, but I don't know if sharing is a good idea, since it's toxic af, so this is just an experiment :) It's my guilty pleasure to write. Special thanks to @dvinaamesca for this first picture of Garreth that stirred the Dark version of him! (if you don't want your name associate with this I'll take it down!)

Penelope pushed her glasses on her nose and quietly closed the heavy oak door behind her, the smug grin still lingering on her face. Those foolish Prefects would never catch her; the Gobstones trick had never failed her and after two years it was still going on full swing. Now that she had mastered that blasted non-verbal spell, moving around the castle unnoticed had become a breeze. And together with the Disillusionment charm, she had never missed a beat.

"They should really consider to put Mooncalves, they would do a better job," she thought shaking her head still chuckling under her breath.

Now that she was outside, she lowered her mask, inhaling deeply to take in the crisp autumn air, and swiftly turned to the right, following the path around the flower beds in the Hogwarts gardens. It was unusually chilly for the 10th of October, and she shivered lightly under her cloak, thankful for her cozy jumper, a nice gift from her dear brother.

The dragon-shaped bush was starting to shed its leaves, scattering a scratchy layer on the ground with every sweep of its wing-like branches. Silenced by her charm to muffle her steps on the stone path, Penelope quickened her pace, descending the stairs of the outer wall of the castle. This wasn't how she envisioned starting her 18th birthday, but she didn't have a choice. 

Sacharissa needed those ingredients, and she needed the money. 

The new Silver Arrow broom wouldn't pay for itself, and she planned to flaunt it on the Quidditch field after the next victory against Ravenclaw. After years of trying, she was finally on the team and a good broom was essential to show those pesky Hufflepuffs what a great Seeker they had missed all those years.

Penelope finally reached the hidden door concealed by dry vines, took another deep breath of the brisk air, and readied her wand. She tapped once on the locked door and whispered, "Alohomora."

A low screech welcomed her as she entered a long, dark, and damp corridor. Yet, she wasn't afraid—she had traversed this path countless times and could navigate the darkness with ease. While Prefects and Professors patrolled above, she strolled comfortably beneath them, dodging debris, stone rubble, and overgrown roots with the vials tinkling in her bag. 

It had taken months to clear out the Devil's Snare infestation, but her efforts had paid off—both in terms of time and money. They'd never catch her.

Soon, she reached a low archway where the floor was covered in dark wooden planks and dust, her steps were now echoing in the empty space. At the end, a ray of moonlight filtered through a dusty glass dome, faintly illuminating a monstrous sight.

"Hey, Vinny!" she whispered with a smile, greeting the huge Venomous Tentacula that was idly swinging its toothy pods in the musty air. She pulled a piece of meat from her bag and tossed it to the plant. One of the pods twisted on its stem and shot out a sticky tongue to snatch the meat midair. The viscous appendage coiled around its prize and retracted into its shadowy lair with a slurp, as the monstrous pod clamped shut. 

Her defiant smile widened, like the Gobstone trick, Vinny had never failed her, her trusted companion, guarding her secret. Once she was back, she would give the plant the rest of the meat for the other pods to enjoy, for now she had to move forward in her mission.

Her ritual for good luck complete, Penelope started climbing the wooden stairs, reaching the trapdoor in the ceiling while simultaneously dimming her wand's light.

She carefully opened the trapdoor and emerged into the greenhouse. As she gently closed the wooden doors behind her, she paused, blinking, to adjust to the dark environment. 

The air was thick with the strong smells of damp soil, dragon fertilizer, and exotic flowers, but she didn't care. 

She was there to finish her work discreetly and efficiently, as always.

Crouching under the overhanging stairs, she pulled her mask back over her face, allowing the hood of her cloak fall over her shoulder. Shaking her head to revive her hair, she paused, holding her breath to listen intently, ensuring she was alone.

When she was sure to be the only one in the building, she turned and ascended the stairs reaching the balcony toward Greenhouse number 3 where her longed target awaited.

Truly, it couldn't have been easier for her.

Skirting the faulty third step, she proceeded down, only to feel something brush against her calf on the lower step. Whirling around, moonlight revealed what seemed like a tentacle coiling around her leg.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Devil's Snare in Greenhouse Three? That was unexpected— she was sure she had taken care of all of them and the dangerous plants were in the other building, number 1. Reacting quickly to avoid entanglement, she brightened her wand to keep the plant at bay. The tentacle swayed in the light, yet it didn't retract. 

Penelope scoffed, annoyed, Flitterbloom. What an idiot. 

Her impatience mounted as she spotted the vase of the plant, nobody in their right mind would put a Devil's Snare in a pot. Cursing her impulsiveness, she turned, dimming quickly her wand in the hope that no one had seen the light. 

Penelope blinked, allowing her eyes to readjust to the darkness, and scanned the room for the plants. Sacharissa had given her a full list, yet she dared not risk searching for everything—she needed to prioritize the most valuable component: Bubotuber pus. 

Moving with quiet confidence, she located the plants on the counter to her left, exactly where she had seen them during her morning reconnaissance. Her frequent assistance to Professor Garlick in the greenhouse had earned her extra credits and, unbeknownst to others, the perfect cover for her nocturnal heists.

No one would suspect the strange-looking girl with short hair who shyly toiled away, perpetually cloaked in soil and dust. Cutting her hair to fit the Quidditch team, had been both a curse and a blessing. 

Entering the team also meant she no longer had time to grow ingredients for Sacharissa, leading her to pilfer from other students more often than she was used to.

She carefully placed her bag on one of the stools and began to lay out her tools: a small copper funnel, glass vials, pins, dragon-skin gloves, and a bottle of Daisyroot essence. After opening the bottle, she quickly anointed her hands with a few drops of the oil to shield her skin from the irritant pus. Double-checking her mask was secure to protect against the pungent odor, she slipped on the gloves and got to work, pulling the first pot toward her to assess the ripeness of the bulbs. Not all were mature enough, but she had to make do with what was available, perhaps leaving some behind for the unfortunate student who was cultivating them, most likely a pimpled fifth-year. 

Checking the label on the pot, she grinned devilishly, maybe Sacharissa could sell them her lotion…

She had just started to collect the pus, filling quickly the first vial, when she turned, sensing a weird feeling creeping over her.

She froze.

Next to her a dark tall shadow was in the middle of the room, as soon as they realized she had spotted them, they advanced slowly, and as they entered the circle created by the moonlight, the Disillusionment charm broke, revealing the imposing figure of a boy. 

He had broad shoulders and chest, his arms tensed under the mustard-colored jumper as he crossed them. His wand, firmly clasped in his big hand, lit abruptly as he tilted his head. A long tuft of vibrant red hair cascaded over his freckled face, and a smug grin parted his lips. 

"Well, well, well," he murmured, his masculine voice low with a tinge of playfulness that Penelope didn't appreciate one bit. 

His green eyes shimmered with a mix of satisfaction and pleasure.

"I think I got a little thief, what a lucky night,"

Penelope swallowed hard, taking a step back to gather her thoughts and focus on her options—she was caught! 

Trying to suppress the surge of panic, she scrutinized the boy; there was no sign of a Prefect or Head Boy badge. He was dressed in ordinary clothes, much like herself, not a uniform. But as soon as he stepped forward, recognition dawned on her. 

Damn!

Penelope's heart raced as she took a deep breath to steady herself. "Who are you?" she asked, striving to maintain her composure while her mind raced for a way to reach her wand near her bag.

"I think you're well aware of who I am," he replied with a hint of amusement. 

It was true, she knew him very well, everybody knew him, his wicked reputation and the crazy stories surrounding him. 

It was Garreth Weasley, the Deputy Headmistress's nephew, renowned among the whole student body for his illicit brews and odd concoctions. He wasn't in direct competition with Sacharissa, but when he started peddling his eccentric potions for male contraception, he nearly obliterated her business.

He was a potion genius and not the good kind, his Veritaserum was so effective only its smell could even work on ghosts, his Polyjuice lasted months, and he had aphrodisiacs so potent people had to skip days of classes or entire trimesters before they could barely satisfy themselves.

Some said the golden ring around his green irises was due to his addiction to Felix Felicis that he took regularly, being the source of his successful business, shielding him from being caught. Other claimed that, too scared to be bewitched by his debtors, he had consumed so much Amortentia he was actually immune.

Legends said his mind was damaged beyond repair by the fumes of his own brews, which he tried on himself from very young age, so much that at the Sorting Ceremony his thoughts were so foggy and impenetrable, that the Sorting Hat couldn't read them. So he had to choose himself which house he wanted to join.

He went for Gryffindor. 

Which he obviously didn't belong to.

People who couldn't pay for their potions were forced to take the so called Weasley treatment, used as guinea pigs for his crazy experiments, so much the expression "going Weasley" had become synonym of going voluntarily into a risky situation, knowing the consequences.

It was clear she had stepped on the wrong toes, and if she didn't want him to go full Weasley on her, she had to play smart or fight him.

As if reading her mind, with a lazy flick of his wand, her own wand flew through the air into his waiting hand. 

"The real question is, who are you? A little boy stealing pus... that's pretty low," he teased mockingly. "Perhaps I should report this to my Aunt…"

"Wait! We can share!" Penelope blurted out, grasping at straws, hoping he was there for the same reason. She could perhaps persuade him to let her go.

And did he just call her little boy?

"Share what? My plants?" he scoffed. "This is the fourth time you've stolen from me," he hissed, pushing a lock of hair from his forehead, his eyes narrowed to slits in the dim light.

"You're not Brattelby," she murmured, recalling the name on the labels of the pots.

A low, blood-curdling chuckle reached her ears. 

"How naive of you to assume I cultivate my own ingredients," he said, his tone laced with amusement as he took a step forward.

"I can give you money; my contact will pay well for the pus," she said. As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized her mistake as the boy tilted his head, giving her a condescending look raising a brow. "Oh really? Do you think I need money from Tugwood?"

Penelope's gaze widened, how had he learned about Sacharissa?

His smug grin played at the corners of his lips, picking up on her distress. "For someone so skilled at stealing, you're quite thick." 

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, allowing a ray of moonlight to illuminate the coppery tones in his messy curly hair.

"Funny how after every heist, Tugwood releases a new batch of her putrid poultices. I guess she's too lazy to cultivate her own ingredients and sends her little rat here instead. I'm tired of being fucked over by you two," he said, his tone low and menacing as he took another step forward.

"What do you want?" Penelope's voice was cautious, her attempt to sound more masculine clear. If he thought she was a boy, she didn't want to give him any reason to think otherwise, she still had a chance to escape leaving him to look for a male student that didn't exist, plus, revealing herself as a girl seemed really dangerous.

Even if, in truth, she had no idea of his inclinations.

She heard him taking a deep breath, as his eyes wandered around in the darkness, "Let's see…" he tapped his finger on his chin, as if pondering.

"I may have cooked a very powerful batch of Aging potion last week and my Aunt was not pleased with the… aftermath. Giving you in as the Greenhouse thief, may save me from a very unnecessary suspension for the current batch," he started. 

Penelope waited patiently, feeling droplets of cold sweat trickling down her back, "She has already given me few days of detention you know, and I have been a bit… touch deprived, so to speak. Is there anything you can do to change my situation?" 

The question lingered between them as the implications lowered on her.

Penelope shivered, and took another step back, "Couldn't you ask… someone else?" She was sure someone like him didn't have any problems in finding… a suitable partner, after all young girls and boys were surely going crazy for his horrible reputation. He didn't really need her.

At least this was what she hoped.

Garreth extended his arms, both wands still in his grasp and a semi-amused smile on his face. "There is no one else here, is there?" he jested. Penelope's heart sank in her chest, as her eyes darted around desperate for an escape, debating whether revealing her true identity might offer some leverage—or place her in greater jeopardy.

"Don't worry, little one, I won't hurt you," he murmured, as though tuning into her anxiousness, "Let's say… I just want a kiss," he proposed, and moving forward once again, he placed himself just in front of her. 

Penelope slowly raised her head, to meet his gaze, he was taller than her, and his towering height was casting a looming presence, especially with the dim light behind him. 

She knew how terrified she must looked like, but she saw a gentle smile gracing his lips, as his eyes softened, "I can't," she barely whispered, his scent— a peculiar mix of lavender, tree bark,  and exotic potion ingredients— growing stronger as he leaned closer.

"And why's that?" His voice was low, imbued with masculine charm. As he laid his large hand on her cheek, the warmth bled through the fabric, tracing the edge of her mask, she realized she was holding her breath.

"I… I have a cold." she stuttered. It was a lie, of course, despite regularly donning a mask to avoid just that, as she rigorously trained for Quidditch every day since she had joined the team.

And then she was also concealing the pockmarks left by her acne.

His laugh was soft, coming from the back of his throat, "That's no problem. I'll brew the finest Pepperup Potion tomorrow morning. I do appreciate your concern, though." He leaned in, his fingers brushing past her ear to the mask's tie, a few strands of hair caressing his skin in the process. She felt a shiver, a mix of reluctance and an unsettling warmth in her stomach. 

Despite the warning signals firing through her, she remained rooted in place, paralyzed by the closeness of his disconcerting touch.

"Just a kiss and then I can go, right?" she was almost giving in, but she wanted to make sure the deal was settled.

"Of course, just one. I bet it's your first," he teased, amused by her lack of experience. She didn't answer, as he removed her mask, revealing her face. 

With a rush of cold air, the pungent scent of Bubotuber pus momentarily filled her nostrils, but Garreth's proximity quickly replaced it with his captivating aroma. She felt his thumb gently stroking her flushed cheek before descending to her lips, his gaze seemingly admiring her quivering mouth as he passed his fingertip on it. 

"You're not that bad," he murmured softly. She barely had time to react to the compliment before his lips clashed with hers.

Taken by surprise, she instinctively closed her eyes as the soft tuft of his red hair lazily brushed against her forehead, tickling her skin.

Penelope's heart slowed as the boy moved his mouth over hers, his hand shifting from her cheek to the back of her head, holding her gently in place. She stood frozen, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, unsure of how to respond while his other hand, now wands-free, rested on her waist, drawing her closer.

But that simple kiss couldn't be all he wanted, and she knew there was more. 

His tongue soon sought entry, a demand for deeper access she wasn't willing to grant. Despite the warmth unfurling in her stomach, she resisted, her teeth clenched and eyes shut tight. Planting her feet to the ground she balled her fists, digging her nails in the leather skin of her gloves, now completely sweaty and oily.

She couldn't let him take everything.

As if defeated, Garreth retracted, just enough that he could trace the contour of her lips with his tongue, brushing them with its wet tip. When he reached the lower one, he then offered a faint, teasing bite. He soon pulled back slightly, but Penelope didn't waver, despite the buzzing in her ears and the stirring sensation moving from her stomach to her groin. 

His warm breath still caressing her cheeks, he suddenly sank his teeth into her soft flesh, eliciting a sharp sting. Penelope widened her eyes, let out an helpless whimper, and as soon as she parted her lips in fear, his tongue found its way inside, invading her mouth, seeking its secrets.

She wanted to pull away, she desperately tried to place her hands against his broad chest, but she found only a stern resistance as he was holding her tight, pushing her neck towards him, his fingers mingling with her short hair.

As Garreth's tongue found hers, he deepened the kiss, hungry for more, his breath growing heavy as the two intertwined. Tears started to form in Penelope's eyes, it was her first kiss and he was taking it from her with an insistence that would have been scary if not intoxicating.

Because despite her confusion, her body reacted in a very different way than expected.

Under her jumper, her breast was brushing against the soft fabric of her shirt, pressed against his hard chest and she could feel her nipples hardening with each movement of her ragged breath. And she could clearly sense his arousal as his thighs were pressing against hers, his bulge pushing on her lower stomach.

A new sensation surged between her legs, familiar yet never before this intense.

When he finally broke the kiss, letting her go, her foggy mind struggled to keep her balance. Still tasting the ginger and licorice from his mouth, she took a small step back and sat down on the greenhouse stool behind her. She took off her gloves so she could pressed a shaky hand on her forehead.

As a soft laugh reached her, Penelope's head shot up, locking eyes with Garreth's amused gaze. "That wasn't half bad, was it?" he mused, tilting his head and brushing a ginger lock from his face. 

Penelope pressed her swollen lips together. "I guess I can go now," she murmured feeling a mix of indignation and relief, reaching for her wand on the counter. But Garreth was quicker, lunging forward to sweep the wand from her reach, sending it rolling across the wooden table to stop beside a Bubotuber pot.

Her shock was palpable. "What does this mean?" she demanded, trying to rise, but he was upon her, his hand resting on her shoulder, pressing her back down onto the stool, his erection evident now that it was at her eyes level, straining the fabric of his trousers. 

"It means I might have changed my mind. I really enjoyed that kiss," he teased noticing her intent  gaze.

Penelope's head shook in disbelief. "But you promised—I could go after it," she protested, struggling to keep her voice steady amidst rising panic. 

His smile broadened maliciously. "You can go—to pack your things in your dorm as I'm heading straight to my Aunt's," he declared. 

Penelope's eyes widened. 

"I didn't endure three nights in these damn greenhouses, freezing my ass off, just to let you off with a mere goodnight peck," he said with disdain, looming over her once again, adding with a disarming casualness, "Besides," he put a finger under her chin forcing her to raised her head, "you have surprisingly soft lips and I'm dying to feel them wrapped tightly around my cock," he whispered brushing her earlobe with his breath.

Penelope gasped, realizing that he had no intention of letting her go. Her wand was too far out of reach, and he would have easily intercepted her had she tried to snatch it. But she couldn't let him have his way; in a desperate attempt, she raised her leg trying to kick him where he wanted her lips. Yet she barely reached his shin, and in her haste to rise, turn, and flee, she stumbled over his feet and fell to the ground.

Her knees and elbows hit the hard, cold stone floor with a painful groan.

"Where do you think you're going?" Garreth peered down at her through half-lidded gaze before waving his wand, murmuring, "Incarcerous." Soon, ropes began to emerge from thin air, swiftly encircling her wrists and ankles.

"Release me!" she demanded, feeling the rough hemp against her skin.

"You don't really have a choice," he said coolly. "But I'm inclined to assist you." 

He turned, reaching for something on the floor next to a bag of fertilizer, and when he stood again, he was holding a small vial. The liquid inside had a soft pink hue with something swirling within, barely discernible in the faint moonlight.

As he approached, Penelope froze. Was he planning to drug her? 

"There's a first time for everything. Don't be scared—I'm going to teach you. You might even enjoy it more than me," he teased, uncapping the vial with a playful wink. 

She watched him as he knelt beside her, her teeth clenched. "I won't drink that," she spat out in defiance.

"You don't have to," he replied in a low purr, "at least not all of it," he added, holding her face steady despite her attempts to break free. His grip was firm around her cheeks and her position too compromised for effective resistance. She felt something cold on her jaw, he was wearing a ring on his left thumb.

"Be a good boy and open your mouth, like before," he coaxed. Penelope maintained a defiant stare, eyes narrowing into his dark green gaze.

Unfazed, Garreth moved his hand up and pinched her nose shut. She held her breath as long as she could, trying to shake him away, but as her lungs started to burn, longing for air, her mouth involuntarily parted in a small gasp. Seizing the moment, he tipped the vial, letting a few drops land on her tongue.

She immediately tried to spit out whatever he had given her, but she could feel something coating her tongue, a slick film with the taste of rosemary and saffron. 

"It's useless; it's already taking effect," Garreth remarked calmly, securing the vial's cap.

"What the hell did you just give me?" her tone tinged with desperation.

"You'll see soon enough. Actually…" he furrowed his brow, appearing momentarily lost in thought, then concluded with a malicious smile, "…feel." 

"Fuck you!" she cursed, saliva dripping down her chin. He looked at her with amusement and, reaching down, he wiped her chin clean with his thumb. She noticed a red stone adorning the golden ring. 

"Don't tempt me with more ideas, little one," he said in a mockingly affectionate tone.

When he rose again, he paused, crossing his arms before leaning against the counter. "Here's the deal: you make me happy, and I let you go," he proposed. 

"As if I can trust you," she scoffed.

"Just to show you my good intentions, I'll free your wrists, but," he readied his wand, "let's make one thing clear," he murmured, and a silvery ray shot from the tip, forming what appeared to be his Patronus.

Penelope's eyes widened as she tried to discern the form of the animal, which shimmered faintly in the air, with its curly tail and its jerky eyes—a Chameleon. 

"One false move, and this little guy goes straight to the first Prefect," he warned, "you don't really want to displease me," his voice light but carrying a clear threat, as he got up again and moved forward.

Penelope followed him with bated breath, anxiously awaiting her release while feeling the oppressive weight of his presence. 

As he prepared his wand, she started to consider her limited options. Escape was clearly not feasible; at least she still had the safety of her anonymity since he didn't seem interested in her name. But what he was demanding was something she was not prepared to give. The mere thought repulsed her, and she wasn't even sure that after she had... she shuddered at the notion, finished with him, he wouldn't possibly demand more. 

Would he? 

Suddenly, she felt her wrists released, and steadying herself against the hard stone floor, she knelt, seeking some comfort by resting her knees on her cloak to make the uncomfortable position more tolerable. The sound of a faint clink quickened her pulse, but she kept her gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

As he started to unbuckle his belt, with his bulge still evident, her mind flew to the countless of times Sacharissa had complained about her boyfriend, how often he had left her unsatisfied after an orgasm that came too quickly for her taste. If she could bring him to climax, possibly not inside her, he would surely need time to recover, which would give her a break from any further unwanted advances.

Finding some reassurance in her renewed decision, she took a deep breath, raised her head, and steadied her gaze, ready to face her opponent and his repulsive demand.

But as soon as her eyes landed on the boy in front of her, her heart almost gave up, as he was  already half-naked, his trousers down his shins, his muscular thighs tensed, his white skin completely covered in nice, little freckles. 

The shape of his erected dick sculpted in the fabric of his pants, reaching almost his waist.

He knew he was attractive, she knew it too, and to her dismay, also her clit which started to gently pulse between her legs. The surge of heat that coursed though her body made her sweat, as she clenched her fists.

Soon, he lowered his underwear, looking at her with an expectant expression that mingled satisfaction and pleasure, savoring most likely what was coming. 

Penelope swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure fixing her eyes on his face instead of… the thick, throbbing shaft that sprung up from between his legs, hungry for her mouth.

"You can look, you know. I'm not shy. It's not like you've never seen one before," Garreth taunted, clearly aware of her discomfort. Maybe he was thinking she was jealous of his.

In truth, she had, in fact, never seen one, and she certainly wasn't prepared to see his, especially not on her birthday!

What a great present he was giving her…

His underwear slid on the ground and he casually stepped out of his clothing, seemingly unfazed by the greenhouse's chill. As he moved closer, she instinctively recoiled, turning her face away, her stomach twisting into a tight knot.

"Now, now, it's not the time to be difficult is it? Take it into your hand first, gently, as I'm sure you're used to," with the corner of her eyes, she could see the soft, mocking smile playing on his lips, his shimmering green eyes taking in her reluctance with amusement. She despised him for it.

Nevertheless, she complied. 

As the silver Patronus danced around her, she slowly raised her hand, he was so closed, she could feel its inviting warmth, "Look at it," he commanded, as the chameleon moved up, illuminating the scene from above.

Penelope took a sharp breath and with a sour look she raised her head, almost defying him.

Steadying her shaky fingers, she took it in her hand, it was warm and firm, hard enough for her to feel its punishing weight, but also soft with light bluish veins adorning his full length.

To her surprise, she found herself wondering if he had freckles even there.

"How endearing, you have small hands. Perfect for a thief, let's put them to good use," he joked, clearly satisfied with what he had forced her to do. 

He leant in, took her other hand and moved it to his hip, letting resting there under his long fingers, the ringed thumb pressed on hers.

"Now, I'm sure you know your way, so I'll leave it to you."

Penelope didn't know, she hadn't a clue, but she tried to recall the talks she had with her roommates. Not all of them were experts, but Hemera did had a boyfriend and for Helga's sacred cup, she loved to boast her abilities.

Maybe she cold put all her dirty recounting to good use.

She moved her hand up and down a couple of times, jerking his skin, clenching her fist, maybe a bit too much, in fact, soon he stopped her with an annoyed scoff.

"A bit sloppy aren't we?" his voice was low, tense, his Patronus quivered lightly as tuning in with his impatience, "Start gently, brush your thumb on the top, keep the skin on, insist on the tip in long, slow strokes."

She followed his orders, trying to keep her eyes on his stomach, on the red tuft of hair that adorned the base of his shaft, "Focus on your hand," he ordered once he realized she was not giving much attention to her work. 

She shifted her gaze, her fingers tightly coiled around him, stroking gently and rhythmically insisting on the top where she could see beads of pre-cum leaking out, glistening in the silvery light. 

"Better," he murmured, his tone soft, tinged with pleasure, "I think you are ready, now," and with a smirk he lower his other hand to guide her head toward it, in an inviting gesture.

Penelope shot her head up, her eyes wide, pleading almost, "Oh, no, don't give me that look, you're not escaping this," he murmured.

With a tilt of his head, the chameleon moved onto her shoulder, resting there. Its warm light served as a reminder of the consequences should she fail to comply.

"Moisten your lips and open your mouth." 

He was almost trembling in anticipation, wasn't he?

She bit her lip, trying to resist his hand pushing her neck, his long fingers mingling with her short hair. "Really, it's not a big deal. They say it even tastes good, and believe me, I know it does," he whispered softly, quirking an eyebrow.

Penelope took a deep breath, she could feel his scent stronger than ever, the more she advanced to his slick tip. 

It wasn't unpleasant, and as the constant pulsing of her clit reminded her, it was almost inviting.

Despite her mind trying to fight, her body was ready to give him whatever he wanted, most likely under the effect of that disgusting drug he had given her.

She slowly passed her tongue over her lips, almost teasing him with the sight of their glossy fullness.

"I might bite," she challenged him with a dark gaze, in a last desperate attempt to stop that torture. A wide smile parted his lips, "That would only add to the thrill," he chimed with a playful wink. She bit the inside of her cheek, defeated, and finally opened her mouth.

"Move the foreskin down and take it in, same as before, focus on the tip, swirl your tongue on it, nice and slow," he guided her as she pressed her thumb on the top, his sticky pre-cum wetting her skin. She swallowed, then she closed her eyes.

His hand forced the back of her neck again, almost impatiently, and he was finally in her mouth.

"Don't suck it, I don't like it, and put the other hand on my hip." 

She didn't want to, as she was scared of giving him so much power over her, but in the end she complied once again, her body moving on its own, trusting him.

Her cold fingers hesitantly gripped his hips, her thumbs tentatively resting over the pelvic bones that emerged beneath his white skin.

"Nice and slow," his voice now was hoarse and husky, and he started to immediately thrust himself in her in controlled sharp movements.

He was surely savoring the moment.

Penelope tasted the salty and musky scent of his pre-cum, coating her tongue, invading her senses, she swirled her tongue on the swollen tip, feeling more of it coming out. It did tasted strangely good, she was not sure, but he might have taken some sort of potions to change its flavor, or simply he was transuding Amortentia. 

For what she knew it could be both.

The light on her shoulder flickered, and she sensed the chameleon moving, most likely rolling from the pleasure, she kept her gaze on his stomach, forcing herself to ignore the deep warm feeling pooling between her thighs. Was she… dripping wet already?

"Good boy, relax your throat now, and move your tongue on its length, the wetter, the better," he whispered. He was clearly straining himself to speak, and Penelope could feel how much he was enjoying it, strangely the thought made her shivered in satisfaction, was she that good?

She felt the saliva wetting the corners of her mouth as she followed his orders, moving down, little by little, taking it all in, in slurping and shameless noises. When she felt it too deep, she stopped, hoping it was enough, and she retracted a bit, taking in a lungful of air.

It wasn't enough.

His hand grasped her hair and jerked her forward, making her glasses slipped on the bridge of her nose. She gaged around his imposing shaft, trying to pull out, digging her nails in his white skin, but he didn't care. It hit the back of her throat, then moved back, slowly, so she could feel his full length brushing on her tongue. 

She knew it wasn't right, she knew that was not supposed to happen, but still, her body trembled, sensing how big it was, how good it tasted, how… fulfilling it might feel in her pussy.

It was infuriating knowing how the idea of his cock in her mouth was getting her so aroused, she could barely think straight. And she was a virgin, she wasn't supposed to feel like this.

Again Garreth thrusted forward, disrupting her confused thoughts, he moaned as he felt how desperately she was trying to clenched her throat to avoid him hitting her deeper. He opened his eyes and looked down, "I said relax," he commanded forcing her to raise her head keeping a firm grip on her hair, tugging at it.

Penelope locked eyes with him through the lenses of her foggy glasses, and try to relax, she really tried, she didn't want to make it any worse, but… it was impossible, every time she managed, he pushed in her again thrusting with renew vigor, pumping back and forward, every time faster, relentless.

He was loosing his control, and his Patronus with him, as the little creature was pulsing intermittently, casting a kaleidoscope of light.

Tears streamed down Penelope's cheeks as she gasped for air, saliva rolling over her chin. Her hands quivered, leaving marks on his hips. Still, she was feeling warmer and warmer, her nipples hard under her jumper, her mind clouded with unexpressed desire.

He was using her, and she was liking it. 

The uncomfortable position, her knees on the hard ground, her ankles still tied in the rope, her head throbbing lightly form his grip every time he pull her towards his stomach, the view of his freckled muscular thighs, his firm balls swingling in front of her… she was indeed enjoying all of it.    

And it was wrong, it was scary and exciting at the same time.

She wanted more, she craved all of him.

If she had her hands free, she might have dared to touch herself, instead she closed her thighs, trying to release a bit of pressure from her throbbing clit with the slight friction she could provide.

"Almost there little one, keep it up, make your nice lips tighter," he had hardly finished his sentence when, in a flash of lucidity, Penelope tried to pull out once again. She didn't want him to come in her mouth, despite her body temperature rising at the thought of it, she didn't want.

It didn't work, of course.

He kept her firmly in place, until the very end.

Groaning and cussing under his breath Garreth bit his lip, and gripping the hand of the girl under his, he finally gave in, forcing her to look up into his dark green irises, the glow from the golden ring glinting ominously.

Despite his serious expression, he was really pleased.

Penelope felt the warmth of his release in her mouth, down her throat, spilling on her chin. All while the light of his Patronus pulsed and then grew brighter, enveloping both of them in its comforting glow.

It was done, she swallowed hard a lump of his cum, trying not to gag, it was finally over. Her heart was beating furiously in her chest, as if she had just finished a long run, and she tried to steady her shaking breath by slowly inhaling.

She heard him take a deep breath too, "Good job," he exhaled, as if a burden had been lifted, looking down at her. 

His hand released hers from his hip, his long, warm fingers no longer intertwined with her own, leaving her feeling almost alone.

"Now clean the mess you made, and put those soft lips to good work," he kept her in place, despite her attempts to free herself from his punishing grip on her neck.

She closed her eyes and did as requested, swirling her tongue on his pulsing tip, sucking gently and swallowing until everything was finally clean.

She took her hands off his hips, and when he finally freed her, she passed the back of her hand on her mouth, cleaning it from the spit and the cum. 

"I told you, you would like it," he joked stepping into his clothes as if nothing had happened, and removing the long lock of hair from his forehead, absentmindedly brushing it aside.

She felt the ropes binding her ankles dissolve and took her time to massage them, ensuring she could stand steadily once on her feet. At this point, she no longer cared about her belongings; her only desire was to grab her wand and flee.

Still, her body was in full arousal and when she made a move to stand up, even the bare trembling of her thighs, sent shivers of lust down her spine, a warm feeling crept on her cheeks and her breath grew heavier. That damn potion was taking a toll on her, but she had to escape first, then, in the comfort of her bed, she might give in to her pleasure.

Away from that red temping devil.

Quivering lightly, she put a hand on the stool behind her and rose, testing the stability of her feet. Then, keeping an eye on the boy in front of her, who was quietly buckling his belt again and basking in the glow of his Patronus, she took a step back until she reached the counter, fixing her glasses on her nose. 

Penelope placed her hand behind her, searching for her wand while simultaneously keeping watch on Garreth, not trusting him in the slightest and eager to escape the dreadful situation.

Unfortunately, her hand encountered only pots, dusty wooden planks, and her gloves. Fearing she might accidentally tip over her vial of pus and risk blistering her skin with the potent ingredient, she cautiously turned her head, only to see her wand at the far end of the table. 

Moving quietly, trying not to attract his attention, she then turned completely to grab it, carefully avoiding the Bubotuber pots. However, the moment she bent over the counter, Garreth seized the opportunity and covering the space between them, he pin her down.

She gasped in surprise as her wand flew out of reach once again.

"Fuck…" she moaned feeling his body pressed against her back, his broad chest on her.

"Well said, you read my mind little one," his voice was low, menacing and husky, "that's exactly what I want now," he whispered into her hear. 

"No!" she exclaimed, struggling to free herself, fighting to wriggle out of his grasp. "Please don't," she pleaded, feeling her wrists being tied once again. Now, the thought of being caught by the Prefects seemed almost appealing.

"Why? Are you a virgin?" his hands were all over her now, on her thighs, her legs, but mostly on her ass.

"That's none of your business," she blurted out feeling her wet fold clenching, her underwire were soaked and his big, warm hands groping her, were not helping in making her feel any better.

"I take it as a no, then," "What?" she whimpered in shock as he started to fumble with her trousers, pushing her cloak aside to slide them down, "Then is a yes," a soft, devilish laugh escape his throat as he started to caress her naked buttcheeks.

"You have a very nice and soft ass, so small yet so alluring," he said, almost surprised how it felt under his greedy fingers, he pinched her heated skin. A chuckle escaped him when a small whine left her throat.

He was clearly amused by her discomfort, and he was well aware that his potion was still having effect on her.

Eager to feel her ass wriggling and squirming against his still hungry dick, he slipped a finger in the crack between the buttcheeks, teasing her. 

"I have to be honest, I prefer pussies, but… I cannot refuse an invitation like this," he chimed, as he started grinding his hips against her, his erection now evident again, straining his trousers, almost reaching up from its constricted position.

Penelope widened her eyes, incredulity washed over her, what the hell?

He just… came, how in Merlin's name could he be this hard again in such a short time?

She felt his dick pressing on her exposed ass, his warmth canceling the cold feeling from the brisk air of the greenhouse. She saw his Patronus strolling on the counter, as if mocking her, a reminder of his threats.

"Please don't…" she couldn't take it anymore and the pressure of her own hips on the border of the table was sparkling her senses, as she could feel her clit tightening with every stroke. She desperately needed to release herself.

For a split second she contemplated the idea of telling him who she was, her mind played with the alluring feeling of his long and firm shaft inside her, filling her and pumping her virginity from between her legs. 

He did prefer female bodies after all and she might like it more than… whatever he had in mind.

But soon she realized she couldn't do it, first because he was a crazy maniac, and that was not how she envisioned her first time in her dreams, and secondly, she didn't want to risk it. She wasn't on any birth control as she wasn't dating anyone, and that shit would only hamper her abilities on the Quidditch field. 

She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of taking also her first time from her, even if her body was screaming for some attention and her pussy was burning, slick in her own juices. 

"You are a little thief and I'm going to steal from you," he murmured deepening his hand between her buttcheeks until he found her hole. He prodded at the entrance, "Nice and firm, as expected," he commented with a satisfied tone before retreating his hand.

"Now, I don't want to hurt you, you know. Well, not more than necessary at least," he joked as she felt his body stepping back, giving her some time to recompose herself. The cold air bit her skin now that he wasn't there anymore.

"Oh, what a coincidence!" Garreth exclamation piqued her curiosity. As she turned her head to check was he had found, he reached for something on the counter. 

"Daisyroot essence!" he declared with a gleam in his eye. "Perfect for the occasion. You came prepared, little one." 

She heard the sound of a vial uncapping. 

"Let me share a secret: this was my first ingredient for lubricants. The oil isn't too dense, provides nice friction, has a soothing effect, and... smells great."

Penelope stomach sank, he really wanted to take that path.

She strained against the ropes, but as she started to kick with her feet, he parted her legs, plunging his oily fingers in the crack of her ass, gently massaging the delicate skin between her buttcheeks. He brushed his fingertips against her quivering hole, circling the wrinkled skin around it, savoring the moment he would enter, claiming another part of her for himself.

When he cautiously slip a finger in her, Penelope gasped at the intrusion.

"Don't tell me you've never done it yourself," his laugh was low, "it's one of the best feelings if done well." 

He retracted a little bit, "But I'm not here to pleasure you," he concluded harshly pumping the finger in and out assessing how firm and tight it was.

Penelope closed her eyes, her body suddenly relaxing, savoring the enticing sensation of his touch. 

Of course she'd fingered herself, who didn't at their age? Just… not where he thought she would. 

She felt more oil dripping on her ass, and soon another finger slipped in her, stretching her entrance further.

She swallowed hard, it wasn't a bad feeling, not at all, she could sense her skin tingling a bit, the opening gaping around his long fingers, but there was another opening a little bit down there that was dying to be filled as well. 

She took a sharp breath, she was still half clothed, with her panties still in place as he had just slide them down a bit, and her wet lips were brushing against the cloth with each thrust, her clit clenching, she was going crazy as she wanted more friction on it. 

He continued for few seconds, preparing her, then she heard him unbuckling his belt again, and his trousers slid down. 

This time the feeling of his dick against her heated skin was something she longed, and not feared, as her mind completely gave up on her useless and helpless fight.

She sensed him stroking its tip hard on her, taking in the oil from the Daisyroot as he was lubing himself against her. 

"Almost ready, little one, just relax," he whispered, and as he parted her buttcheeks, he stretched her entrance starting to intrude himself in her.

Penelope widened her eyes, he would never enter, she was too small and tight for… that kind of tip. She bit her lips as he slowly made his way in, adding more lube with his fingers every time he retracted, so to make it easier with the next try.

She didn't have voice anymore to plead him, because her thoughts were all on another part of her needy body, that was quivering and gaping, and once he managed to enter just a little bit, she felt her pussy wall tighten as well giving her a shivering pleasure she didn't know it was possible from the other side.

Slowly, but steady Garreth made his way in her, his pulsing length filling her completely as the first wall of resistance was completely overcome. 

He heard him groaned in satisfaction, his hips pressed against her. As he brushed a lock of hair from his face, he started to move, retracting, first slowly, then faster, not giving her time to adjust with each thrust.

But Penelope's body didn't even feel the urge to adjust as she was trembling from another source of bliss and soon she realized she was moaning helplessly, her pleasure mixed with shame.

"Oh," he chimed in, fastening the pace, sensing her arousal, "lucky for us, I've muffled the building. I have a feeling someone might be screaming soon." 

Damn it! She was giving in! Despite her resistance to letting him see her enjoyment, her pride seemed to have vanished, and as she groan and arched her back, she felt indeed a shameless slut. And she was liking it.

"Focus, Pen, focus please!" she thought in a last desperate attempt.

Garreth on the other hand didn't care, he steadied himself pinning one hand on the counter and started to pump with more vigor, soft moans and harsh sounds escaping his mouth, grinding in faster, longer and merciless.

Penelope clenched her fists and gritted her teeth as another powerful thrust shattered the table beneath her, causing her hips to smash against it in what should have been a painful blow. But her body was betraying her once more, as the only thing she could feel were shivers of pleasure coursing through her.

The boy behind her moaned again, in what seemed like a low, coarse throaty sound as he sank deeper into her, keeping her in place with a hand on her lower back.

She closed her eyes, trying to focus once again, but her mind and her body felt completely disconnected, unable to cooperate in what should be a desperate situation.

As another thrust hit her harder, her body shuddered and her mind played with the sudden desire to move together with him. No, it was not working.

She opened her eyes again and as a faint ray of moonlight seeped through the dirty greenhouse windows above her, a shining glimpse caught her attention. This time, it was not his Patronus.

Curiosity piqued, she turned around, trying to command her body to follow her orders distracting herself from the overwhelming feeling of being so filled and stretched.

As soon her eyes lended on the dirty counter next to her, she widened her gaze. Fear washed over her.

It was the vial, that vial. Just empty.

Damn!

If few drops of that thing turned her body in that needy mess, how much could a full vial do?

And he had drank all of it!

She was trapped, trapped in that bloody greenhouse, forced to satisfy the pleasure of the Deputy Headmistress nephew for Merlin knew how long…

That's why he was always asking for more. He didn't need to rest, he didn't need anything to refill his lust.

She tried to shake him off, but she knew she was only making him more excited, plus, she could feel she was really close herself to reach her peak.

She didn't know how that potion worked, but the merely graze of the soft fabric of her panties against her sensitive clit, was making her losing her mind.

Combined with the brushing of her nipples against her shirt and the hard counter under her, she knew she could not resist any longer and soon she started to feel something coiling in her stomach, and small waves of pleasure starting to rise from deep within her pussy.

Fuck, she was coming. Hard.

She tried not to moan, but it was almost impossible, the waves coming and going faster, each time more powerful, than the last one. What the hell was in that vial?

She closed her eyes shut, as her orgasm mounted, relentless in its bliss, submerging her in its powerful tides. She didn't care anymore if that lunatic had taken advantage of her, she didn't mind, he was giving her something far beyond her grasp, something she had never experience before.

She felt her skin melting under Garreth's touch as he grabbed her ass, ready for another release as he was also coming again, his Patronus pulsing, its light filtering through her closed lids.

Her mind swayed as she bumped against the counter, her heart hammering against her chest, as her thighs were shivering furiously from his thrusts and her overwhelming orgasm. 

Completely at his mercy, she dived in.

She was tightening and clenching and pulsing, and moaning for what seemed like minutes on end. The sensations began to recede gradually, like the waves of the sea withdrawing after a tempest. 

He had been her tempest.

Had it been normal encounter, she might have thanked him, eagerly begging for more, but this was far from normal. And after the first stupor, she find herself livid with anger.

"How are you doing little one?" his voice was strained, out of breath again, she had to give him credit, he had a great stamina and powerful thighs. 

She felt his hand sliding down her ass, as he slowly pull out of her, his cum dripping on the floor and her heated and bruised skin. 

She didn't want to give him the satisfaction to know he had given her the time of her life, so she fell silent.

"I bet you're enjoying yourself down here," he jested and as his hand lowered, she tensed, closing her legs shut, she didn't want him to touch her, as he was seeking something that clearly wasn't there.

His fingers slid from her butt, infiltrating down again, then he stopped, he cussed under his breath and suddenly retreated.

"Fuck! I have to go."

Penelope opened her eyes, looking around in confusion. What was happening?

She sensed another source of light coming from a bigger hairy form, another Patronus?

"I haven't finished with you," Garreth murmured, his voice tensed while quickly recomposing himself, cleaning his shaft from the oil, the cum and her juices with a flick of his wand. 

"Just try, you'll never find me," she provoked him, her voice sour, but as soon as she had pronounced them, she felt him tapping her ass with his wand. 

"Ligato voluptatem,"

Something soft and cold grazed at her skin moving between her legs, like a silky lining, it enveloped her clit, entering in her pussy. 

Shortly after her wrists were freed, she quickly turned and leaning against the counter, covered herself with her cloak, hoping to conceal from him the fact that she wasn't a boy. Her thighs still quivering form the overwhelming orgasm.

She saw him moved around, collecting his things, a bag from the ground and some other vials, now that his Patronus was gone, the greenhouse was darker than ever, ominous even.

He paused midway through the building, turning to fix her with his intense emerald gaze, a stark contrast to the half-smile playing on his lips. 

"Oh, I don't need to find you; I only have to wait," he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"What did you do?" she asked, her voice tense and high-pitched with fear. 

"I've cast a little hex on you," he explained shrugging lightly, as if nothing, "see, you'll never be able to pleasure yourself again," he continued coming closer, rising his gaze on her face. With a mischievous grin, he tilted his head, sensing her growing discomfort as his words sank in. 

The danger in his tone was evident, and Penelope felt like something cold washing over her, he wasn't joking.

"My touch is the only one your body will crave, slowly driving you insane day by day. It might not be tomorrow or even next week, but I'm certain you'll come to me, overwhelmed with longing and begging for a relief I'll be the only one to concede." he explained, his voice a confident low purr, full of devilish expectation.

"I've never heard of it," she mumbled, struggling to steady herself. She leaned against the counter for support, feeling her legs weaken for a very different reason this time. 

"It's not illegal if nobody knows about it. Just a little gift from my dear brother," he jested, brushing his messy curls away from all over his face.

He adjusted his bag over his shoulder, reaching inside to retrieve something. With a swift movement, he tossed a small bottle toward her. 

"Murtlap essence. You'll need it if you're planning on returning to your dorm tonight on your feet," he said scornfully. 

Casting a final, defiant glance her way, he navigated past another Flitterbloom plant near the greenhouse entrance and disappeared beyond the door, into the night.

Alone now, Penelope tried to gather her scattered thoughts. She quickly dressed, collected her tools, and retrieved her wand. Moving quietly, despite the discomfort in her lower back, she made her way towards the stairs leading to building number 4 and her secret passage. 

As she landed on the wooden floor of the Herbology corridor, her heart still raced, her mind grappling with the recent events. 

She just wanted to go back to her bed and forgot everything.

For the first time in four years she forgot to feed Vinny.

As she made way out of the corridor, she cast a look at the vial with the Murtlap essence still in her grasp, had he really hexed her? She was uncertain of her next steps, but one thing was clear: she wouldn't let this go. 

He would pay for what he had forced upon her that fateful night.

She wasn't down for the full Weasley treatment.

[yusei-tales]

Side Story: Outh and the Land of Happiness

An endless stretch of blue fields, a vast, sweeping plain dotted here and there with yellow ranunculus—or was it? That little wildflower you once pointed out with your fingertip. The lake’s water, scattering in soft pink under the noonday sun. And your light brown hair—rustling, scattering in the breeze, drifting in and out of my view like a curtain drawn before my eyes.

Your voice, asking what I’m thinking about. Your tilted head, that red gaze fixed on me, and I could only look back, dazed. I wasn’t thinking of anything. And if I had been, I’d have forgotten by then. Whenever you’d brush the strands slipping past your ear and speak to me, my mind would go blank, no matter what I’d been doing before.

You wanted us to go see the aurora. Said it was a magical sight you could only see up north in those cold countries. When I asked if you weren’t the one casting the most beautiful magic, you’d laugh—just like that, like a sack full of stars spilling out as you showed me your hand.

“That’s true, but the world has many beautiful things in it,” you told me.

If you say so. I’d believe anything you said, though I didn’t think I’d find anything as beautiful as you.

I know things like that don’t suit me. For a time, you gave me everything. Yet, in your last breath, when you spoke my name, I couldn’t meet your gaze with any dignity.

Tell me, Pscheka. Where is this land of happiness you spoke of? Where would I need to go to be happy?

Where could I go to find you again?

I don’t need any other happiness.

Pscheka, with her short, neat hair, and I, with my black hair, were inseparable after a certain point. People often found it curious, seeing gloomy me alongside lively Pscheka, but we didn’t mind, and over time, those around us grew used to seeing us together, so much so that people would think of us in tandem.

“Outh! Outh!”

Her laughter burst out, like white flowers blooming, and shone as she grinned between breaths.

Maybe she had so much laughter that she had enough to share even with me. Could there be anything in calling my name that would bring her that much joy?

“I’m the happiness people leave behind,” she used to say. The light and time that shaped the world, our dear two sources—they were meant to fade away after building the world, but fragments of them remained, and they call us the sorcerers. I knew this, faintly. It’s like an instinct, embedded deep within us, almost like a memory. So it’s no wonder that our very beings sometimes wish to return, to blend into this world.

“This world is precious. I hope everyone lives happily,” you always used to say.

“I bring good fortune to those who call my name, so I’ll make sure you’re happy too.”

Pscheka began to fade at some point. She was using far too much of her powers.

When I realized it, my stomach dropped, as if the ground had fallen out from under me. She was so unnervingly calm that it nearly made me cry. Traitor. We promised to stay together. I wanted to get angry with her, but the words just wouldn’t come out.

I think of Laden’s face, his troubled expression, eyes like a fox’s, big and apologetic, shaking his head. His answer came back exactly as I’d expected.

Yet the words from my mouth were sharp with reproach.

“…This is why I hate you. I’ll never understand.”

A part of me crumbled away, like a wall cracking apart. Even though I thought I had no expectations, I’d had them anyway.

“It’s a crime to have power and do nothing with it. How is doing nothing different from not existing? If that’s all, you might as well not be here. You only fill people with false hope. Just disappear already.”

“If you have the power, you can’t just do nothing, can you?” That’s what you always said. Imagine a hungry child right in front of you—could you really not give them bread? That was your logic.

Was that why you stayed by my side? Out of some sense of duty? Even so, I wouldn’t have minded. If it was because I looked like the most miserable person in the world, then I’d have been fine staying miserable forever.

I’d hoped, you know, that I could somehow melt away altogether like you. But my powers are poison to the world, is that why you came to me?

To ask me not to ruin the world you loved? To fill my mind with beautiful things?

If so, maybe I must linger here till the end of it all.

In a world without you, am I to go on cursing this world until it collapses? Is this my curse coming back to me?

Laden,

“You could, you could’ve saved her; you could’ve shown a better way. It’s easy for you, isn’t it? Why did you just stand by?”

You wouldn’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like to be powerless. To be someone who could do nothing to help the one they loved because their power only brings misfortune.

Pscheka was the one who brought joy, the one who gave others good fortune.

All I could give out were curses.

You’ll never understand how that feels.

I was helpless as I watched her leave me, giving me one last smile as she went.

She was, you know, the only one who understood me. The one who could welcome me with a laugh, saying, “You’re gentle because you never use your power.” The moment I lost her, I knew. Ah, there’s nothing left for me to work for.

Who will win? You, who do nothing, or I, who must do nothing?

Outh, that is my name. One letter away from ‘oath.’ You always liked my name, didn’t you, Pscheka?

I’m sorry. I think I’ll give up on keeping our promise now.

[jazzyvlogs]

Fireball

(Not beta read- just something I wrote while down) In a world in which the green flu is no more and everyone moved on. Well....not everyone.

The cold morning air clung to Nick's weary bones as he awoke with a start, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. The cabin's walls whispered tales of time gone by, a silent witness to the scars etched into Nick's soul. A dream had unraveled in the recesses of his restless mind, a dream that brought back echoes of laughter and an unmistakable southern drawl.

As the first rays of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Nick rose from his makeshift bed. The years of survival in a world that had long forgotten its own heartbeat bore lines on his face. He made his way through the cabin. Purposefully, he avoided casting a glance at the fractured mirror leaning against the wall; he was well aware of the reflection it would offer. Streaks of stress-forged gray, an unkempt and unshaven appearance, and eyes devoid of vitality. The door emitted a low creak as he stepped into the muted symphony of nature reclaiming its domain.

The field stretched out like a canvas painted in hues of tranquil melancholy. A carpet of dew-kissed grass, verdant and tender, whispered tales of the earth's silent resilience. The white flowers, delicate and ethereal, stood like sentinels, their petals gently swaying in unison with the whispering breeze. Each bloom held a silent promise, a testament to the passing of seasons and the enduring beauty that persisted despite the desolation that had once gripped the land.

The cabin, perched atop a weathered hill, overlooked the expanse with a stoic grace. Its timeworn facade told stories of survival, the scars of a world reborn from the ashes of chaos. The wood, once vibrant, now bore the marks of time, a testament to Nick's enduring solitude.

As the sun ascended in the sky, it cast a warm, golden glow upon the landscape, igniting the dewdrops on the grass like scattered diamonds. The air, crisp and invigorating, carried the scent of earth and memories. A solitary crow perched on the cabin's roof, its ebony silhouette a stark contrast against the canvas of the morning sky.

 Nick felt the familiar pull, the invisible thread that tied his existence to that sacred ground. With each step, memories flooded back like a relentless tide, and his heart thudded with the weight of unspoken words.

A beacon of light in the shadows cast by the world they had faced together. It was a recollection that danced between the tangible and the ethereal, a moment when Ellis's infectious spirit had carved a lasting imprint on Nick's heart.

The memory unfolded in the remnants of a sunlit day, the air tinged with warmth and camaraderie. The survivors had stumbled upon a rare respite—a small haven untouched by the chaos that clung to the world like a persistent fog. As they gathered around a crackling fire, Ellis, with his unmistakable drawl and an irrepressible twinkle in his eye, began to spin one of his legendary tales.

The firelight flickered, casting a gentle glow on Ellis's animated features. Nick, initially feigning disinterest, found himself drawn into the narrative, captivated by the sheer enthusiasm with which Ellis recounted even the most mundane details. It was a story that defied logic, sprinkled with Ellis's trademark humor and a dash of absurdity that only he could inject into the bleakest of scenarios.

As Ellis painted the scene with words, Nick couldn't help but be swept away. Laughter, genuine and unrestrained, echoed around the makeshift campfire. In that moment, surrounded by the harsh reality of their existence, Ellis had conjured a sanctuary of joy and camaraderie.

Nick's recollection lingered on the shared laughter, the camaraderie that transcended

He reached the gravestone, weathered but standing strong against the passage of time. Nick lowered himself onto the ground, the grass cool beneath his fingertips. The silence between them spoke volumes, a language only they shared.

"Hey, Fireball," Nick murmured to the wind, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You won't believe the world now. We made it out, like you always said we would. The others, they found their way back. But me…….?" He faltered a moment, looking to his palms and calloused finger tips. “I’m still here….”

The wind carried Nick's words into the vast expanse, as if the very earth itself cradled their conversation. He continued, his voice a whisper in the breeze, "I've been living, if you can call it that. A haze of days, one blurring into the next. You remember how I used to hate your damn stories, right? Now, I'd give anything to hear just one more."

Nick chuckled, a bittersweet melody that hung in the air. His gaze drifted to the horizon, where the sun bathed the world in a warm embrace. "I had a dream about you, Overalls. You were laughing, like nothing had ever gone wrong. I woke up and realized, in a twisted way, you found your peace."

The sun climbed higher, casting a golden glow upon the field. Nick's fingers traced the letters on the gravestone, etching the words into his soul. "I miss you, you idiot. I miss the way you saw the good in everything, even when there was none. I miss being the cynic to your optimism. I miss... you."

Nick's laughter was swallowed by the wind, and he sighed, a blend of sorrow and acceptance. "I hope you found whatever comes after this. Maybe it's better than the mess you left behind. Just know, wherever you are……."

As the sun bathed the field in warmth, Nick sat beside Ellis's grave, a solitary figure in a landscape of memories. The wind carried away his words, but in the quiet of that morning, a certain peace settled within him—a bitter, sweet serenity in the echo of a voice long gone, yet forever alive in the heart of the survivor who carried on.

“I’m happy you're happy you're dead.”