#sunlight in my askbox

[ambivalence-and-torpor]

☼☼☼

@moonlit-trolls

@afallatmak

@jazztrolls

[asbestieos]

fucckconenmore thing beforr i go to bed where eis rezes blog

[a-ikuoliver]

hiring you after a particularly tense night could either be the best decision endeavor ever made, or the worst.

pairing: enji todoroki x f!reader w/c: 2.7k warning/s:fem!reader, escort!reader, cheating, reader has hair out, finger sucking notes: sorry not sorry i just wanna be a rich mans toy; dialogue is a lil clunky my bad lmao

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

“so, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” despite the firepower of his quirk, the ice is thick between you, your teasing words hardly making a crack in the frigid surface. undeterred by it’s solidity, you make your way over to the hero, still seated at the desk on a chair that makes him seem more imposing than he is, his shoulders flaring past the edges of the high back, the only thing in the room that towers over his seated frame.

the expansive office isn’t enough for the both of you, the air already thick when you take another step closer, the heavy mahogany swinging shut behind you, latching into place with an echoing thud. still without a word, endeavor stares you down like he would a villain, watching your every move, every rise of your chest, the slow sway of your hips. his ears tingle hearing your sleek heels click along the hardwood floor, slow, calculated steps across the ice, no fear of falling when you venture further into the icy depths of the office.

crystal blue eyes trail over your body with every click, drinking in the sight of your tight, white blouse, the top three buttons undone to expose a sliver of your lacy bra, the skirt with a slit far too high on your thigh to be appropriate, your sheer black stay-ups that stop at your mid thigh, a peek of your garter poking from beneath your skirt to keep them up. his ears are ringing when his glare reaches your heels, unsure if it’s his blood rushing to his head, or the sound of you stepping over the rug echoing in his head.

the hero’s heart pumps in his chest incessantly, he can already see the headlines now, top hero hospitalised for cardiac event after inviting escort to his agency. your proximity might be a fate worse than death.

drawing his eyebrows down, he averts his eyes; it shouldn’t be this easy to work him up, you’ve just walked into his office and his mind is already wandering. and yet, when he slouches in the leather, he spots the dark red lace beneath your skirt, the minute layer of fabric doing nothing to hide your dizzying cunt. enji’s sure he’s pale as his head rolls back, the blood rushing from his head, swallowing hard, he wills himself to just relax. you weren’t a threat, you were a woman. so, why was his skin burning so damn hot?

slinking around the corner of his desk like a cat readying for a nap in the sunlight, your non-existent tail curls around his throat, bringing his attention back solely to you. perching yourself on the edge of his desk, shuffling back just enough until the bare skin of your thighs squishes against the cool surface, your position hiking your skirt higher on your limbs, even more so when you cross one leg over the other, pushing the fabric to your hips. he’d never admit it, but his cock jumps just watching you move, gliding over the slowly melting ice with a confidence that made his head feel like static the longer he stared.

your allure makes his head fuzzy, your little office getup flattering every curve and plain of your body; the cliche glasses perched on your nose working better for him than he’d thought. it only gets fuzzier taking you in, your exposed thighs, squishing around the elastic of your garter, the curve of your throat, the shape of your tits when you leaned closer, the colour of your lips. you study him through the glass, licking your lips just to watch him squirm, nearly drooling yourself at the flex of his thighs as he adjusts in the seat, his bulge more than enough evidence of everything he refused to say aloud.

despite calling you after a late patrol, heaving and panting down the line with his fat cock grasped in his hand, he never quite expected the follow through.

“i’ve never been inside the number ones office before,” his gaze is still glued to your thighs listening to you speak, the weight of your sultry gaze making him shift side to side again. quirking your head, your voice is low and even when you lean closer to question him, “what are you so nervous about, endeavor?”

it takes every ounce of his self control to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head at the sound of your purring voice, instead, he keeps his blue eyes trained on your sparkling, mischievous ones. even with his attempt to remain stoic, the glimmer in your eyes makes it abundantly clear you remember the low, gravelly tone of his voice when he’d called you, the addictive rumble in his throat as he’d all but groaned down the line, asking to see you. you didn’t bother to respond with your rates, you knew he’d pay from how fucked out he sounded.

“i’m not.” enji wordlessly thanks any god above that his voice is even, that he doesn’t choke on the words, even when you drift closer. your scent clouds his mind, he doesn’t know if it’s your perfume, or a quirk, but the smell sticks to the inside of his nose, melting into every wrinkle and ridge of his brain with every slow breath in. shaking his head doesn't quite clear his head. countless villains defeated by him, but a gorgeous escort clad in a tiny skirt was making him tremble, the pure lewdity of you draped on his desk dressed like that had his blood rushing to places it hadn’t been in years.

growing closer to the hero,his dick twitched like it did the night he called you, the fat tip of his cock starting to stick to his boxers when your lips brushed against the stubbled skin of his jaw in an addictive, barely-there touch, marring the skin with a line of dark lipstick from the corner of his lips to his ear.

“let’s get you more comfortable,” you purr in his ear, the sound waves sending jolts of electricity down his jaw, through the jugular in his throat, down his oesophagus into the depths of his stomach with a deep shudder. your head is just as foggy as his when you drop to your knees in front of him, the wet dream of the hulking hero falling apart at the seams when you’d hardly touched him, hadn’t done a thing to make him so clammy, to get him so worked up, to have his fists clenching at his sides. you hadn’t even looked at his fat cock yet, let alone touched it.

kneeling between his thighs, each wider than your head, you lift a heavy foot that’s nearly as long as your torso, setting his heel in your lap as he studies you like you’re alien; dark red eyebrows furrowing, wrinkling in the centre when you unzip the side of the boot, tugging the moulded lather off his foot. he can see down your thin shirt at this angle, his stormy eyes locked on the charm at the centre, hypnotised by the way it catches the light like a crystal sun catcher in the middle of july, his attention only drawn away from your chest when you tugged his other foot into your lap.

the longer you fiddled with his shoes, the more strung out he got, his tendons feeling like they were about to rip under his skin, his knuckles itching to reach for you, to tug at the flimsy buttons holding your shirt together until the stitches split, growing more and more desperate to bury his cock in your cunt. fuck, he nearly forgot how a warm, wet pussy felt gliding up and down his cock. his eyes fluttered shut, the relief of his boots slipping off his feet doing little to relax his wired body, especially the more he thought about how you’d look bouncing in his lap, still in that short, tight skirt, your pretty manicured fingers rubbing at your clit, your mascara smudging under your eyes when you came, how you’d moan his name when you ride him. would you shudder feeling him dip his head into your weeping cunt? would you ask him to go slow, shiver atop him sinking down his length? would you let him spill his seed in your cunt? or swallow all his cum while you lick him clean of your juices. biting his lip, he stifles a groan at the fantasy of your cheeks full of his cum, of it spilling over your perfect lips, dripping down your chin onto your chest, tainting your thin shirt.

—his eyes squeeze shut with a groan, a heavy hand rubbing at his lidded eyes, the pressure of his knuckles in the socket forcing the picture of you from his mind. he shouldn’t be doing this. he can’t do this. his cock is aching, he can’t be doing this, but fuck, he needs it.

“i can hear you thinking,” you study his face, taking in the bright topaz of his eyes, the indecision swirling in them, the jagged scar tearing through the left side of his face, leaving a gap in the hair on his jaw, the stubble spattered around the clear skin surrounding it, the start of a beard a red only a shade darker than the hair on his head. enji’s hand drops to his thigh, his bright aquamarine gaze meeting yours, the blue a deep navy in the shadows stretching over his face, somehow still glowing an electric blue despite the darkness beneath them, the weary lines that come with the job, and age. propping your chin on his knee, his head rolls back, the front of his boxers nearly wet from staring at you, the glittering of your eyes that looked like you were starstruck, the dark eyeliner smudged around your lash line that he desperately wanted to make run down your face, the creamy lipstick already starting to smear around your lip line, half of it still left on his cheek.

“i don’t know if i can do this…” running a hand through dark red hair, leaving it in spikes. even with his apprehension, he doesn’t stop you from dragging your fingertips over the hard muscle of his thighs, doesn’t jostle your chin from his knee, allowing you to slide your hand under the hem of his shirt to feel the heat of his bare abdomen.

“i..i’m married.”

there’s a flash across his face, a guilt, a worry. you we’re used to clients having… commitments, someone to go home to after you, although, this was the first time you’d seen a man so concerned about it, the morals of betraying his family, the morals of just thinking of you laid bare for him to lick, nip and suck as he pleased, to make your spine arch into him. he’s itching to have you melt on his tongue, on his fingers, fuck, the longer he ogles you, the more he thinks tarnishing his reputation might be worth it. your posture straightens, the hero doesn’t miss a single twitch in your muscles, waiting for you to stand, to storm out. instead, you hum, an amused sound from low in your throat, your hands sliding from beneath his shirt back down the length of his thighs.

light as a feather, your touch grazes his aching cock, his blood running hot through his veins to his crotch, like it was his own hellfire ablaze beneath your touch. it doesn’t cool when you reach for his left hand, tugging the limb easily into his lap, not a single one of his bulging muscles straining to stop your light touches on his skin. sparing a glance at him, you gently trace your fingertips over the cold gold of his ring, the metal dinged, scratched and worn smooth at the edges from years of marriage, decades even.

“i’m not trying to be your wife, endeavor,” your eyes shine looking up at him, “it’s cliche, but i’m anything you want; a lover, a girlfriend, a date— if you don’t wanna touch me,”

your pink tongue pokes out from between your lips when you trail off, slowly licking down the length of his finger. the digit’s calloused, thick from years of hero work, his skin hot in your mouth like a cookie was right out of the oven, when you were too impatient to let them cool, instead savouring the dough melting in your mouth. wrapping your lips around his finger, your eyes are still locked on his, hardly sucking at the digit when he breaks the eye contact, heavy eyelids fluttering shut with a deep groan at the sensation of your tongue and lips around the third knuckle. he sounded even better than he did down the phone; so gravelly, like the noise was alien to his vocal chords.

“then, you don’t have to touch me,”

neither of you have shed a single piece of clothing, he hasn’t even touched you, you’ve barely touched him, yet, his head rolls back when you moan around his finger, licking at his hand like you were trying to taste his leaking cock, your ministrations hardly helping the pre steadily dribbling from his tip. enji’s hips jump when your tongue dips in the webbing between his fingers, any apprehension melting inside him with every pulse of his echoing heartbeat, desperation thrumming in his veins, the need to feel your drool dripping down his cock, to feel the heat of your cunt beneath the red lace of your panties. he throbs with the need to sink into you, he’d fuck you on the floor of his office right now if it meant he could see your pretty pussy dripping with his cum. unfortunately, instead of your creamy slick gathering in his palm, sliding down to his wrist, it’s your saliva, drooling from your bottom lip onto his thick skin, dripping onto the front of his trousers to make a patch on the front mirroring the ever-growing one on his boxers.

“i won’t touch you unless you decide it,” your voice is like an angels chorus, even as devilishly sultry as it was.

“huh-i’m—” breathing heavily, enji’s voice is garbled, his mouth drawing into a tight line, every muscle in his body tensing when you bob your head, sucking his fingers deeper into your throat like you were trying to milk his dick. your hair falls onto your face when his hips jolt off the chair, his hips pushing his palm into your face, his ring finger pressing against the back of your tongue. his resolve is melting, his hips grinding shakily into the air the longer you sucked at his hand in his lap, your soft lips wrapping around the ring beneath his last knuckle, the sensation of your teeth against his skin forcing a rumbling groan from his chest. gold ring between your teeth, you sensually drag your tongue along the underside of his finger, setting every nerve on fire with the tip of your wet muscle fluttering against every ridge of his knuckles.

he’s fucking ruined above you, bulky thighs raising off of the office chair in search of your wet, hot mouth to release into, his hair sticking up in every direction from his fingers constantly tugging on the ends, the veins in his throat shining with sweat at every heavy thrum of his blood. with white knuckles, his abdomen tenses, every muscle in his body fighting against the urge to cum, to wait until he had you beneath him, on top of him, on his face would be less fucking shameful than making a mess of his boxers from a little pseudo-blowjob.

enji mumbles something, his tongue too heavy in his mouth to make any discernible words, especially not over the sound of your slurping at his fingers, he sounded more like he was huffing and grunting than speaking, the sound clawing itself out of his throat when his eyes screw shut, his muscles losing the fight to restrain himself.

shuddering, every solid muscle relaxes at once, the tension ebbing, melting from his veins into pleasure when his cum spits from his hot tip, sticking the front of his boxers to his cock.

his head drops back when you sit back up on your knees, his ring looped around the tip of your tongue, his finger falling from your mouth with an audible pop in the quiet room, the only sound his heavy breathing and the shuffle of your clothes as you adjust your position.

he can fucking hear the grin in your voice spotting the dark stain at the top hero’s crotch, “still worried about your marriage, endeavor?”

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[hamlets-ak]

ice cream hunt ༊*·˚

m.list ◦ askbox

synopsis: on a hot summer afternoon reader and timmy go for an ice cream hunt in nyc

It was a warm smokey summer afternoon. New York was an oven. The day; Thursday, the most boring day of the week.

Windows and balcony doors opened wide, let the last sun rays swim inside your apartment alongside a small breeze that made the curtains fly and then linger on the floor. There was music from your neighbor's house concealed by the loud tireless honking of cars down the street.

You and Timothée were laying on the couch, only wearing the sunlight, half-asleep, half-awake, watching mind-numbing sprit-crushing TV shows. He held your feet on his lap as his head fell back melancholically, breaths escaping his pouty lips.

« Tim are you sleeping ? », you asked. He mumbled something in response and then turned his head in your direction, face red, sweat holding onto the skin under his eyes.

« It’s so hot, » he told you. You smiled.

« You know what I want ? », you asked.

« No. » You lightly tilted your head, the smile gradually growing until it reached your ears. Timothée groaned pulling his hair back and holding it out of his face already knowing what you wanted to tell him. « Baby, it’s so hot... »

« Come on ! Let’s go out for a walk. »

« Someone literally got a heat stroke the other day- », Tim said. You rolled your eyes.

« You are just being lazy, » you murmured throwing your head back dramatically.

« I’m not being lazy. It’s just too hot outside. »

« We can go for a walk and get some ice cream. »

« Ice cream would be nice, » he mumbled.

« Then let’s go get it ! », you said sitting better, your back leaning on the couch. Timothée just looked at you as you took your feet off him and stood up. « Come on, get dressed, » you motioned your hand to him.

« I’m so tired, I can’t even get up, » he told you, eyes following all your moves. You threw a t-shirt on top of his face.

« How can you be tired ? We’ve been watching that crap all day. »

« Look, » he uncovered his face. « If you manage to pull me up from the couch, we’ll go get ice cream. » Your stare stayed at him for a few seconds and then you smiled.

« Your laziness is next level, » a chuckle escaped your lips. He beamed at you. « You want me to get you dressed too ? »

« Yes, please. »

« Timothée get up, » you said putting on your t-shirt.

« Ah, help me, » he tented his arms forward.

« Lazy ! »

« What do you mean ? That’s my charm, » he smiled.

You walked closer to him and he tied his arms around your hips pulling you closer until his cheek touched your belly. You pulled his wild hair back and leaned to kiss his forehead.

« You are a lazybones but I still love you, » you lowered your gaze at him. He looked up at you with a grin that made his eyes squint and his nose wrinkle. Timothée nodded letting you take his curls back. « Come on, » you took his hands on yours, and before letting a wet kiss on the back of his palm, you pulled him up.

« You really want ice cream, huh ? », he laughed wrapping his arm around your shoulder and giving you a peck on the lips.

« Ah, you are sweaty ! » You lightly pushed his chest. He grinned as he picked up his t-shirt and put it on.

« Got the keys ? », he asked once you got ready.

« Got ‘em. »

Wind rushed past you with razor teeth, hot like the breath of a dragon. You strolled down the street, two flames under the starless purple sky, dark and bright, streetlights following your steps. Timothée held your hand while crossing the road and he insisted on staying on the outside of the pavement, making your walk seem like an adventure.

You asked him if he remembered what was your favorite ice cream flavor and he just rolled his eyes as if you asked him his name. You laughed about nothing special while wandering around the city, watching the colors change above your heads until the sky turned into a blue shade like the deepest part of the ocean, and you finally reached the ice cream parlor.

« What will you get ? », you asked.

« What I am always getting, » Timothée said and then furrowed his eyebrows wearing his playful smile. « You remember or... »

« Or... », you shook your head questionably. « I’ll just get you whatever I want. »

« Sounds good, » he nodded, curls bouncing up and down. You smiled as your hand fumbled on his hair and pulled it behind his ears.

You left him chuckling to himself while you walked closer to the counter. His eyes followed your every move and stayed on you even when you looked away. You turned back to him, eyebrows furrowed, and shook your head watching the way he was staring at you with his sweet smile and red cheeks. Timothée shrugged imitating your move.

« Here you go, » you gave him his cone but quickly pulled it back to take a quick bite. He pressed his lips together looking at you for a few seconds before bringing your arm up and taking out his tongue to lick your cone. You burst into laughter at the way his nose was covered in ice cream too.

« Dummy, » you smiled cleaning his nose with your paper towel.

« Yours is better, » he said. « Wanna change? »

You slid your hand around his arm as you made your way back home slowly with steady steps and different cones, following the sidewalk.

[panem-crustus]

SOUDOUGH SALUTATIONS!!!

I am the one and only Carbohydramancer on/ in the @wizard-island-trading-co! I am a Carbohydramancer, that is, a manipulator of Carbohydrates. A bread wizard, basically. My magics are based mostly on semantics. If it can technically be called bread, I can make it.

Pronouns: He/Him

CURRENT STOCK

Battery Acid Hawaiian Buns: An extremely potent electromagical power source. Boosts the power of any electromagical devices and machines hooked up to it. Requires Bottled Lightning and Lithium to bake. Handle only with insulated gloves.

Loaf of Armorsoul: Temporarily boosts defense In organic beings and repairs Automatons when consumed. Any bread baked using @odd-animated-armor's chest cavity results in this bread. This is the only way I've been able to replicate the recipe thus far.

_________________________

UPDATED: Starlight Sourdough: A mystical, mostly untested recipe. A potent, edible source of mana that is arguably more appetizing than a vial of purple goo. I used the Spores of a rare Starlight Mushroom as yeast for a Sourdough Starter, resulting in a promising way to cultivate the notoriously finicky fungus. The recipe has been stabilized, and is being used as a mana power source for @wizard-island-trading-co's Moon-Garden Dyson-Swarm.

Starlight Sourdough-Based effects (made to order):

Total Cleansing: clears all magical status effects and transformations, aside from Trans Magics.

Vitality Enhancement: Enhances your body to handle deadly poisons and fight off any disease or other foreign infection .

SPONTANEOUS MANA COMBUSTION: Causes your mana pathways to overload and have a meltdown that deals devastating damage at the cost of your ability to use magic, at least until you can be properly healed. ⚠️USE WITH EXTREME CAUTION⚠️

_________________________

Bread Bowls full of The Stew: They're bread bowls full of The Stew. Delicious. Mmmm stew. NOT LIABLE FOR ANY INJURY CAUSED BY THE STEW.

Accursed Garlic Bread of Breath Cleansing: Asexual Vampires Rejoice! Consumable for vampires and freshens the breath! All the good of garlic bread with none of the bad! Hurrah! Huzzah!

Sunlight Loaf: Imbued with Radiant Energy, this bread is a bite of sunshine on even the cloudiest of days. It perfectly replicates the nostalgia of Mom's cooking (or nostalgic equivalent) to give a bit of comfort when you need it.

Moonlight Loaf: Baked with Midnight Flour, this bread is a taste of darkness on even the sunniest of days. It perfectly replicates the traumatic experiences of your youth (or any point in your life) to add a dash of despair when you just need a good cry.

CUSTOM ORDERS!!!

Need a pita with a purpose? A magical managerie of baked goods can be at your fingertips! Just tell me the desired effects and I'll see what I can do. I don't take money for my services, however. I take exotic ingredients from which to craft new and exciting pastries.

Please place your orders through the root post or askbox, thanks :)

SOURDOUGH SAYONARA!!!

SECRET BLACK MARKET BREADS:

Biscuit of Testicular Torsion: Leave this unsuspecting biscuit in your victim's fridge. They will eat it, guaranteed. Just wait and listen for the screams. Does not work on those who lack testes.

Baked Horrors: do not. dont. Don't do it you won't like it. Neither will they. Dont.

Bread That Gives @the-gnomish-bastard a migraine every time you take a bite of it: This bread's effects are a mystery.

Not Bread: this is just some gravel I shoveled off of a riverbed.

[lettersfromaphrodite]

[14.23]

― pairing : Hyunjin x fem! reader ― content warnings : fluff, smut, wolf au, reader is a witch, soulmates, medieval settings as always, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ― word count : 3.172 ― notes : different day, different blog, but this one's still for @helav98

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

🐺🔮 WOLVES! STRAY KIDS SERIES

Chris part one | part two // Changbin // Jisung // Hyunjin // Seungmin // Minho part one | part two // Felix // Jeongin

«Come on,» you whispered to yourself, clenching your teeth as if it would have made you reach even further, «damn these silver azaleas, growing in a place like this.» you mumbled, outraged at the herb’s natural habitat as you brushed with your middle finger the wild herbs growing on the edge of a cliff.

Therefore, there you were, partially laying above the void itself, as you stretched out as far as you could, hoping the rock that you were gripping to balance yourself would not shatter in a moment like that. You kept brushing silver azaleas’ leaves few more times until you settled for using magic.

«I’ll never make it like this.» you sighed, your eyes briefly flashing golden and suddenly, a small bunch of silver azaleas was finally in your hand.

However, your happiness did not last long; as soon as you touched the herbs, the rock under your hand suddenly shattered, leaving you to precipitate into the cliff.

At least, this is what should have happened.

The feeling of  a warm hand immediately gripping your wrist with a firm hold made you look up, just to see a boy with long, black hair staring back at you with eyes full of worry. He effortlessly picked you up, and for a second you wondered how  could he be so strong without using magic.

“He must be one of the shapeshifters,” you thought. You have studied about them: people born with the ability to shift into any animal they knew, irrevocably gaining their qualities – sight, hearing and strength, even while in human form. “Or one of the wolves”, you wondered, aware that a pack of wolves recently claimed the forest as their territory. 

«Ah! Thank you!» you cheerfully and proudly showed your small bouquet to the boy, still looking at you with concern. «These herbs have the stupid habit to grow in unusual places so I always have to-»

«Always? You always risk your life like that?» the boy’s deep and dumbfounded voice cut your sentence, and you stood up, brushing away dust and small grass blades from your skirt.

«I never risk my life.» you answered immediately, your hands on your hips. «I knew how to fly up eventually.» you spun on your heels with an amused giggle, heading towards the small basket few steps away from the two of you. It was as if you could feel the gears in the handsome boy’s head starting to move, processing the fact that you were a witch, and not a commoner.

«Anyways, thank you so much,» you turned around, now facing the boy which standing up, easily towered above you.

«Hyunjin.» he said, a small and polite smile on his lips.

«Hyunjin.» you repeated before introducing yourself as well, silently admitting that he was definitely handsome up close. «Well, I have to go. I have many other herbs to gather before sunset. For example, fire flake flowers-»

«Do you want some help?» Hyunjin interrupted you, and you fell silent. Help? You never had any help during your gathering sessions, and especially, how could he be helpful?

«Yes.» you immediately whispered, a strange pull you felt in your heart quickly pushed you to ignore your thoughts. You blamed the sunlight hitting your face for the blush that erupted on your cheeks as Hyunjin’s lips parted to frame a beautiful, happy smile.

«As I was saying!» you suddenly exclaimed, knowing that Hyunjin was aware of your sudden embarrassment, judging by his amused expression, «Fire flake flowers. They’re next.»

«Lead the way, Ma’am.» Hyunjin smiled with the hint of a playful bow, before gently taking the basket from your hands. «But let me carry this.» you let him, a shy smile painting your lips and silently thanking your fate for this meeting. You spent the afternoon roaming around with Hyunjin following you obediently, the two of you talking continuously.

At the mention you were a witch, he confessed that he was a wolf. «That’s cool.» you nodded, «I never had a wolf for a friend.»

«Who said we were friends?» Hyunjin playfully ruffled your hair, with a smile on his face. You spent the remaining of the afternoon explain some properties of the herbs you were picking up to Hyunjin, and if he was uninterested with your explanations, he never showed. Instead, he kept asking you questions, until the situation inevitably ended up with Hyunjin laughing at you because you got raisin on your hair. You sighed, as you brought as much hair you could in front of your face to examinate the amount of damage; eyes briefly flashing golden, you got rid of all the raisin, and Hyunjin immediately inched closer to your face.

«That’s cool.» he said, your noses almost touching as he was busy studying your eyes, now back on their original colour. «Do they always change colour?»

«Yes,» you smiled, placing your hands on his wide shoulders before gently pushing him back, your heart racing as if you had just climbed that cliff back up using your own strength. «they always do.» You turned around too quickly to notice that Hyunjin was looking at your figure with a soft smile on his lips and a faint trace of a blush on his cheeks.

«So… Goodnight?» Hyunjin tried, smiling as he offered you the basket full of herbs once you both made it safely in front of your house, the lanterns of the village illuminating the now dark ad moonless sky.

You nodded, thanking him again. «Be careful on your way home!» you told Hyunjin’s retreating figure as you were tightly grabbing the basket’s handles.

It was dark, the streets were illuminated just enough to see where you were walking but, you saw clearly as Hyunjin turned briefly towards you, answering with a wink as his eyes flashed in two different, bright colours: blue and golden.

Spring, sunny afternoons were your favourites; meditating with the wind gently dishevelling your hair was a feeling you loved, and so you sighed, closing your eyes, your soul at ease while you were sitting in a flower field. Tranquillity spreaded in your senses, and you honestly could have stayed there all afternoon, until the rustling leaves of the bushes on your left caught your attention. Eyes snapping open, you decided not to move your head in order not to appear too alarmed - it could have been anyone, opting to follow the unfolding situations with wary eyes.

All your resolution, however, melted into a thin nothing as soon as a large, big black wolf slowly walked out of his temporary hideout. Your head turned, and you locked gaze with his mismatched eyes.

“He has the same eyes as-”

«Hyunjin?» you quietly called out, unsure. You recalled Hyunjin’s eyes flashing with two different colours few nights earlier, but you were not sure about his wolf form because after all, you have never seen it before. The wolf gracefully lowered his head, as if he was gesturing the hint of a bow, and as soon as your eyes met his blue and gold ones, you felt once again that pull on your chest.

«I hope you weren’t try to scare me, puppy,» you smiled, before returning to your ministrations and closing your eyes once again, «it didn’t work.»

You heard the wolf whiff, perfectly aware that if he were in his human form, Hyunjin would have scoffed at you. The wolf slowly circled your apparently helpless frame, before plopping down next to you, his head gracefully resting on his paws. Hyunjin glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, and you glanced back, before erupting in soft giggles and reaching out with your hand to scratch him behind his ears.

You felt completely at ease, and you did not have to wonder about the reason why you felt the magic flowing in your soul growing powerful anytime he was close to you.

«Hyunjin,» you softly mumbled to the wolf which looked like he had fallen asleep. «Would you like to become my familiar?» Hyunjin’s bright eyes stared at you for few seconds, before he tapped on your thigh with his nose, and you immediately understood that it was his way of saying yes.

Later that afternoon, Hyunjin woke up from his nap with a flower crown made with yellow and blue flowers gracefully hanging from his black ears.

The next time you saw Hyunjin, you were stark naked. You were quietly bathing in the river when once again; he quietly walked out from the bushes in his wolf form. Looking up at him, you admired how intimidating and graceful he looked. Water reached barely around your breasts, so you leaned your arms in front of you, resting them on the grass in order to partially shield your naked chest. Truth was, you did not mind for Hyunjin to turn back in his human form and join you.

Hyunjin made his way towards you, and unexpectedly licked your left cheek, making you turn around while laughing.

«What was that for?» you asked, touching your cheek with your still wet hand, and he answered by plopping down on the grass in front of you, his head on his paws and his big, bright mismatched eyes burning into yours.

«So, Hyunjin, I’m curious,» you tilted your head before placing it on the palm of your hand. «are you hanging out with me because you’re my familiar, or because I’m your mate?» you saw the wolf’s eyes widen for a second, and you smiled, satisfied with yourself.

“So, I was not wrong.”  you thought. You spent few days searching anywhere and everywhere in your books if the relationship with your familiar was supposed to make you feel somehow enamoured, but you only found endless chapters about how powerful you should have felt.

The thing was: you felt powerful AND enamoured, but anytime Hyunjin was in his human form, thoughts about kissing his full lips constantly intruded your mind. Knowing few basic things about wolves, you quickly catched up.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you once again, and thanks to the streaming water slowly flowing around your frame, you started to doze off, until you felt Hyunjin’s nose insistently push your head to your side. Eyes falling open, you searched for any traces of something out of the ordinary towards the direction that he had pointed to, until you heard the noise of cracking bones, followed by a long sigh.

You turned around, confusion written all over your face, the wolf nowhere to be seen. Instead, Hyunjin was standing in the water, reaching out to your nicely folded clothes in order to steal one of your thin leather strings in order to tie up his hair into a half ponytail.

«Did that hurt?» you asked, focusing on his face and trying to ignore the fact that Hyunjin was standing stark naked next to you in the water.

His arm brushed yours, and you felt a spark running through your body. «It doesn’t.» he explained with a smile, «We don’t feel anything, it’s just noisy.» You nodded, somehow glad that he would not feel any pain while switching between his human and his wolf form. Hyunjin placed his elbows on the grass behind him, relaxing in the water with his head thrown back, and you took the opportunity to steal glances to his toned body.

«Oh, by the way,» as soon as Hyunjin turned his head towards you, you adverted your gaze impossibly quick, in order not to get caught ogling at his frame, «who did you call “puppy”, back then?» his hand moved quickly, gently but firmly grabbing your forearm and pulling you towards his body. You let Hyunjin easily manoeuvre you, so that now, you were standing in front of each other, your hands on his chest and his arms loosely wrapped around your waist, as he pulled you flush against his body. You blushed at sudden proximity, Hyunjin’s soft breath fanning your cheeks, the boy staring at you with an amused expression on his face.

«You are the puppy,» you teased him, driven by a wave of confidence which made you lock your gaze with him, and he scoffed in answer, hiding a smile while turning his head. Hyunjin leaned down, and with a sudden, abrupt move, he picked you up, his hands under your thighs. Your arms flew around his neck with a shriek, your legs tightly circling his slim waist. Your noses were almost touching; Hyunjin’s eyes once again burning into yours.

«I dare you,» he whispered, inching closer and you instinctively parted your lips, «say that again.»

«I said you’re a cute, little puppy.» you mumbled back, your eyes shifting between his lips and his eyes, your left hand caressing his nape, leaving wet trails in his hair.

Hyunjin scoffed, tightening his hold on your legs and immediately bucking his knees without any notice. His lips captured yours in the brief moment you were underwater, leaving you to wonder if it really happened as soon as he lifted you back up, his smug smile meeting your outraged shocked expression.

«Now that the “puppy” thing is settled, let’s move to the next topic. Remember that-» Hyunjin face inched closer again, but suddenly froze in his movement as your eyes flashed golden. «Release me.» he sighed, rolling his eyes. «I won’t do that again.» he added in a monotonous voice, noticing that you didn’t break the spell.

With a satisfied smile, your eyes flashed once again, and as soon as he was able to move, he turned your position around, so that your back was pressed against the rocky wall of the river.

«Remember that,» Hyunjin said, gradually inching closer to your lips, «Before I was your familiar, you already were my mate.»

«Do you ever shut up?» you mumbled, before connecting your lips together while tightly holding the hair on his nape.

Hyunjin’s kisses were passionate and rough, there was something almost feral in the way his teeth kept nibbling your skin and his lips constantly searching yours, as if you were the only grip to sanity he had.  Despite being underwater, Hyunjin’s hands travelling on your body felt like his touch was burning, leaving a path that instantly missed and longed for his passionate touch.

That afternoon, Hyunjin made love to you as your back was tightly pressed against the rocky wall, and water flowed all around you. Hyunjin’s thrusts were as passionate and as rough as his kisses, the water giving you both the sensation of him sliding even deeper in you, even if he completely bottomed out every time, just to pull away to leave you clenching around the tip of his length. You found out pretty quickly that your mate was indeed a tease, alternating between fast, hard strokes and slow and deep ones, sometimes even waiting for you to plead him not to stop, even if this meant Hyunjin smirking against your skin with his teeth clenched in order not to pound inside you at the pace he wanted to. Hyunjin placed his left hand on the edge of the wall, next to your shoulder, his right hand sliding on your waist to push you even further against his body, using the water as his advantage to manoeuvre you even better.

«Let me mark you,» Hyunjin’s strained voice reached your ears, somewhere between your shared moans, «please.» his plead was accompanied by a harsh thrust hitting the perfect place inside you and you jolted forward, hugging him closer to your frame with a loud whine. Hyunjin never stopped his movements, never giving you proper time to think about it – you would have said yes regardless of the situation, but as your eyes briefly met Hyunjin’s wolf ones, you nodded immediately.

His mismatched gold and blue eyes stared at you with love and a hint of desperation, before a small and relieved smile danced on his swollen lips. Hyunjin pushed you even further against the rocks as he stilled inside you, kissing the crook of your shoulder before biting on it.

You were his mate, now. Officially, irrevocably, for the rest of your lives. You felt his emotion flood in your soul, and you knew that it was the same for him. Feeling each other’s love, arousal and happiness was what triggered your orgasms, leaving you clenching with rapid sigh around your mate’s twitching length. Hyunjin was panting heavily, his forehead on your shoulder, holding you close even if he already slipped his now soft member out of you.

«Thank you.» he mumbled, and you softly caressed his hair, wetting it once again, as you tried to catch your breath, too.

«I would have said yes, regardless.» at your answer, you felt Hyunjin place a soft kiss on the mark e left, before inching back to look at your face.

«You’re stuck with me, now.» Hyunjin softly pinched your cheeks using both his hands, taking advantage of the fact that now you were standing up once again. You stared back in his still blue and golden eyes, watching carefully as they turned back to normal.

«Witches don’t have a way to mark a familiar, but we’ll settle for this.» balancing yourself on his shoulders, you softly kissed his forehead.

«Oi! Everyone! The watchdog came back!» you heard a boy joke, calling out for the rest of Hyunjin’s pack as soon as you entered their territory.

«Shut your mouth, Seungmin.» Hyunjin spat back immediately, and the other boy laughed loudly.

Hyunjin introduced you to his pack and their mates – which surprisingly enough were all witches, and they all kindly and cheerfully accepted you, glad that Hyunjin finally found his mate.

Changbin’s mate quickly explained you that the pack had been teasing him about being a witch’s familiar as soon as he came back home after he agreed to your proposal.

«They’d been calling him “puppy” for days now, poor one.» she added, shaking her head at the scene of the boys playfully teamed up and chasing Hyunjin, all of them in their wolf form.

«Puppy?» you repeated before giggling, and the girl smiled with a nod. «Well, but it’s true.» you added with a shrug, seeing Hyunjin freezing in his tracks to look at you, growling. You didn’t need to feel his emotion to know that in his human form, he would have said something along the lines of «Not you, too!», and the others stopped as well, some of them rolling on the floor in what resembled a laughter.

Hyunjin approached you quickly, and you giggled as you tried to hide behind Changbin’s mate. The black wolf was quick to prevent your action and pin you on the floor, preventing you from moving by placing one of his paws on the grass next to your head and the other one on your shoulder.

Hyunjin started to pepper your face with small, ticklish lips, ignoring your requests for a truce hidden between giggles.

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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[the-travelling-witch]

𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑

@zhongrin, this one’s for you!! i’m a little late and i rushed to get this done between lectures but i hope you can feel my love anyhow; happy birthday!! i hope you have a great day and i wish you only the best for the new year and all the ones to come ♡ this was too long to drop it into your askbox, so i'm yeeting it at you this way

warnings: a little suggestive at the end, zhongli (that’s your warning right there)

A soft hum and the feeling of pillowy lips pressing against your temple roused you from your sleep. Slowly blinking the night from your eyes against the soft streaks of sunlight filtering through the curtains, your gaze focused on the smooth planes of muscle in front of you. You decided you might as well sleep in a little longer as you mushed your face into your husband’s chest.

Feeling the deep rumble of Zhongli’s chuckle against the side of your face, you exhale a soft sigh at the feeling of slender fingers running soothingly over your scalp, the sensation only aiding in lulling you back to dreamland.

“Good morning, my dear,” a deep rasp sounded from right above your ear. “As pleased as I am to see you find so much comfort in my presence, I am afraid I must rouse you all the same. After all, today is the day we celebrate your birth and I have a few things planned, which I hope will be to your liking.”

You merely give a half-conscious grumble which was probably more of an acknowledgement you heard him speak, rather than an expression of understanding what he was speaking about.

With an amused sigh, Zhongli slipped a strand of hair behind your ear. “I suppose letting you rest some more is just as well. There is no need to rush my appreciation for you, isn’t that right?” 

By the time you raised your head again, the sun had tracked a little farther in its endless cycle. After patting around on the bed, you quickly figured out what had caused you to wake up. Your lovely husband was nowhere to be found as you sat up on his side of the bed.

But you needed not search for him long as the door to your bedroom opened quietly and you were greeted by Zhongli and a tray full of breakfast, the fragrant aroma of tea driving more sleepiness from your senses.

“Ah you have finally awoken,” Zhongli mused, setting the tray aside to lean down and press a sweet kiss to your forehead. Much to your pleasure, he hadn’t dressed for the day yet, giving you a nice peek down the untied front of his robe. “Happy birthday, my dear. May this day be as pleasant and gratifying as all those to come.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, eagerly pulling him down for a proper kiss, breakfast almost forgotten. You could’ve lost yourself to the sensation of his soft lips against yours, yet your mortality came with the downside of needing air to breathe. With your chest rising and falling, your eyes found molten golden ones, as always utterly entranced by their depth. 

The rest of your morning was spent sharing breakfast, holding up food for the other to taste and sharing kisses in between bites. Then, you washed up and got dressed, all without haste, fleeting touches full of adoration sprinkled throughout.

You might not have remembered what Zhongli told you that morning but he held true to his word anyway. From walking around the harbour to filtering through the collection at Wanwen Bookhouse to indulging in your new purchase over a cup of afternoon tea and finally to an early dinner at Luili Pavilion, he had planned enough to never bore you but not enough to tire you; not that you could ever bore or tire of him in the first place. 

The setting sun painted the sky in gorgeous colours of pastel and ignited the leaves around you to glow all kinds of crimson and amber. Yet, on the hills on the outskirts of Liyue Harbour, you had once again found an amber much more interesting to study.

Twisting in his protective hold, your palm came to hold the side of his face gently once more, your thumb tracing the sharp contours of his features in reference.

“I hope you found today to be enjoyable, my love.” A strong hand softly caressed the length of your spine, the fingers of his free hand tracing the length of your collarbone. In contrast to the size of his fingers, his touch was as soft as a feather, treating you like the finest china under his care. “For you, I wish to give only the best. I will never leave you wanting; if it’s in my power to give, you shall have it. That is my promise to you, now and forever.”

The sincerity, deep as his voice, had goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch and you had to exhale sharply to ground yourself. Running your hands over the front of his fine coat, you didn’t stop the smile from playing around your lips. “Today was perfect, thank you, dear. But since you brought it up… there is something I’m wanting.”

“Oh?” Catching onto the playfulness of your tone, one of his brows raised in curiosity. “And what would that be? I’ll be sure to satisfy your every need.”

“I’m sure you won’t mind granting this wish of mine.” You couldn’t help but grin at his choice of words, no doubt you were of the same mind here. Pushing your palms against his sturdy chest, the former geo archon was pliant under your will and slowly laid down on the blanket covering the ground.

With both his hands resting on your hips, fingers grazing the dips of your hips and the plush softness of your thighs, you merely gazed down at each other for a few moments, ingraining the sight of each other into memory like countless times before. Gloved fingers tangled with yours as your husband brought them up to his lips, looking up at you through the lashes of his half-lidded eyes. Despite the seeming innocence of the action, this kiss in particular had your skin heating up more than any of the previous ones you had shared.

“It will be my pleasure, my love.”

[asimplearchivist]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓠𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍, 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ] [ AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST ] summary ✨ ⤏ lu poses a question that makes eliana wonder about the nature—and the unpredictable forgiveness—of time. pairing(s) ✨ [tba] word count ✨ 4.3k a/n ✨ [header credit] | [divider credit] ⤏ posting the ending arc of a story before the main part of it is perhaps a bold move, but…that thing will take me an indeterminate amount of time to complete (if ever), so I had to silence the voices in my head by at least getting this out of my system. it's been fermenting in the back of my mind since 2016, guys. my infatuation with this old ghost has cursed me in the best (and worst) possible ways. ⤏ any references to what may read as backstory prior to this would be explained in the main story. if I never fully write it out, I do at least intend to flesh out a solid outline here on tumblr, so keep your eyes peeled for that, at least, and I am always welcome to questions either in the comments or in my askbox. I really just want my moots to be able to understand the things I yap on about like I'm stark-raving mad tbh lol ⤏ enjoy the feels-train coming into the station, guys! grab your tickets and climb aboard! :) ✨ MASTERPOST ✨ ✨ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER ✨

The question that would irrevocably change their combined lives came as a casual, off-handed supposition one lazy, sunny afternoon.

Eliana had been elbow-deep in a crate packed full of orbs that she had pulled from storage at Kangaskhan’s for the sole purpose of sorting the muddled amassment, organizing the ones to keep for the team’s utility or delivery to the ever-growing list of clients mounted to the board on the cave wall, and recycling those of which they owned in excess—and thus didn’t need—at Wynaut’s. She had stayed occupied with that blissfully mind-numbing task since they had eaten a mild breakfast of toasted flatbreads with liberal smears of honey and slices of freshly ripened fruit while Lu had taken it upon himself to reconcile the veritable mountain of job requests they kept stored in a chest, which had gotten quite out of hand considering the lid struggled to properly latch when shut.

They had worked in companionable silence while the sun had crawled towards its zenith, the plunking percussion of orbs clinking into the slotted tray Eliana used for such occasions as the mood to take inventory struck her kept time over the underlying rhythm of papers crinkling and shuffling as Lu compiled them into neat stacks by location and urgency filling the open maw of the bluff sheltering them from the worst of its glaring rays.

The balmy, salt-infused wind helped to wick the worst of the burgeoning summer’s heat, but the lack of clouds had cautioned them to stay indoors nevertheless—while Eliana did require a certain amount of sunlight as a part of her daily nourishment, full exposure with no breaks (while traveling at times harsh terrain and facing feral Pokémon while on missions in unpredictably dangerous mystery dungeons to boot) spelled out the possibility of her photosynthetic ears and tail flagging. That condition was uncomfortable at best—and most grass-types at the peak of health don’t even blink to shed the resulting wilted flora in order to allow for new growth to replace the lost organic material—but, at worst, it could pose somewhat serious health issues if left unacknowledged. Sunning in the mornings or afternoons proved most fruitful and kept her leaves glossy and lush.

It was the first day off their little team had taken in months, besides. They both had needed the break between the back-breaking, frantic jobs that had lately dominated the majority of their time after their recent promotion to Guildmaster Rank not even a month prior. As his most accomplished graduates by far, Wigglytuff had been relying more and more frequently upon them for assistance in maintaining the background runnings behind the face of the Guild—and particularly on Lu for the administration since Chatot couldn’t handle as much of the active work (namely running errands and maintaining documentation) as he used to due to the injury that he had incurred in Brine Cave)—so, despite being at the most stable point of their exploration careers thus far, they were busier than they had ever been before.

That was precisely why Lu’s soft-spoken question took Eliana off-guard like it did—it came unbidden, at completely random, considering that the topic hadn’t even touched the fringes of her mind in days for how severely she’d been distracted by the perpetual stream of waking, eating, packing, hiking, exploring (which usually entailed a rather harrowing combination of rescuing and battling Pokémon who, frankly, should have known better), resting, and repeating it all over again while keeping up with basic chores and routines for thier team to continue working as seamlessly as always.

Perhaps her guilt from the fact that she hadn’t devoted the concept much thought was excusable for this very reason, although it certainly did not alleviate the somewhat painful sensation in the least.

“…Do you ever think about what happened to the paralyzed future?”

It took a long moment for Eliana to compose herself, and she bought time by carefully finishing a stack of Escape Orbs that would afford them a refreshed supply of Reviver Seeds for the coming week. She tilted her head as if to roll the question around within her head, her tail curling over her paws as she parsed an appropriate response. “…Of course I do.”

“Dialga said that the timeline was restored,” Lu continued absentmindedly, eyes trained on the wrinkled parchment clasped between his tarsus pads, but the creases of his melancholic frown gave away the depth of his thoughts on the subject, “and you were brought back, but…what do you think happened to…everything else?”

He left that remark intentionally vague and open-ended for her benefit, no doubt, so she could divert the conversation if she needed to. Lu was also so considerate of her somewhat fragmented feelings on the matter, but she did wish that he wouldn’t treat it as though he should walk entirely on eggshells when bringing up one of the primarily defining moments of her conscious recollection.

“I…don’t know,” she answered truthfully, looking out towards the rippling sapphire ocean stretching out as far as the eye could see. “He never told me. I had assumed…”

At her trailing off, Lu raised his considerate gaze to gauge her expression. Besides her furrowed brows, Eliana felt no distress—and after reading her aura just to be certain (because she knew Lu, and she knew how fretful he grew over her), he set the paper down and pinned it with a coin to prevent it from wiffling away in the wind. “…That they’re gone?” he finished tentatively.

To acknowledge her reluctant, if hopeless, conclusion verbally hurt her too much, so Eliana gave him a stunted, singular nod.

“I don’t know, either,” Lu said after a long pause, “and I wouldn’t ever want to have false hopes, but…surely if you were brought back, Eliana, they would have been, too…?”

Eliana didn’t really want to dwell on the possibility. While the notion would vastly alleviate the guilt that plagued her every single time her mind drifted to her old companions (and she, too, had wondered at such a possibility before with the same reasoning), if the contrary were ever to be confirmed, it would grieve her all over again. She still struggled to reconcile their loss—because she had lost them, regardless of whether they had, by some miracle, survived like her, and they were separated by an indeterminate and insurmountable length of time beside—and if such hypothetical hopes were ever disappointed…well, she already had a hard enough time coming to terms with her emotions as it was.

“Maybe,” she offered mildly, returning her attention to her unfinished task. The rest of the crate would likely keep her busy until sundown.

“You know…” Lu resumed his own work, as well, tone then more conversational than cautious. “…we could always ask Dialga. Who knows? Since all the time-space issues surrounding us have been resolved, maybe we could—”

“I find that unlikely,” Eliana interrupted him, coarser than she intended to. When she snapped her head around to look at him, however, with shame lancing through her, he didn’t look ruffled in the slightest—such was the imperturbable nature of her partner, and the rational adult he had grown into from a timid, if somewhat passive-aggressive and hot-headed, youth. “I was brought back as a personal favor to you for saving Temporal Tower. I don’t know that Dialga—or whoever granted that wish—would allow for the timeline to have lingering echoes like that. And if…if they did…survive,” she ground out through gritted teeth, “there’s no guarantee that their memories would remain intact. If everything was overwritten, then…maybe they…maybe they wouldn’t even…”

Lu stood and stepped over to her, coiling his arms around her torso and tugging her into a hug. His warm, broad paws rested between her shoulder blades and stroked the length of her spine respectively, soothing her flaring tide of emotion. She blinked away the sting in her eyes and leaned into his touch with a soft, shaky sigh.

“I understand,” he murmured. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s alright,” she responded, muffled slightly by the fur cushioning her cheek. “I’m okay, just…I still have a hard time thinking about it.”

“I know. We can talk about it later, or…or never, if you want. It doesn’t affect me nearly as much as it does you, and I hate to see you cry.”

“Lucky for you, I hate to see myself cry, too,” she responded wryly with a sniffle, trying to grasp at the levelheaded disposition she wore most of the time. She didn’t usually keep her walls up around Lu, but she was particularly sensitive about this topic and…well, she had trouble with figuring out what to do with the equal parts grief, guilt, and anger that had come to reside in the scarred hollows of her heart that had once been occupied by her fellow future Pokémon. As she had countless times before since returning from the odd state of limbo in which she’d been trapped for the time between the Tower’s rescue and Lu’s breaking point, she opted to unceremoniously shove the complicated and snaring web of uncertainty to the back of her mind to be dealt with never later. “Do you want to go to Spinda’s tonight? I’m getting thirsty and I found some Joy Seeds we could try.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Lu smiled, although she knew without a doubt that he noticed her deflection tactic. “Let’s finish up all this and we’ll call it a night.”

It didn’t take long to complete their tasks—Eliana tucked all of the excess items they’d elected to trade into a crate for Lu to carry and they discussed what jobs they should take the next day on their easygoing walk through Treasure Town. There was a handful of rescue and criminal apprehension requests for the Mystifying Forest a couple of days old that would be simple enough to complete. They could save the ones farther out for later in the week so they’d have better time to prepare the necessary supplies.

Spinda’s Café was moderately busy, but the background murmur of conversations and laughter helped to distract Eliana’s melancholy mind. She hadn’t quite been able to shake off their discussion of heartaching hypotheticals, even caught up in the soothing routine of taking inventory, so she distracted herself by entering the line to order while Lu when over to Wynaut and Wobbuffet in exchange for prize tickets that they would redeem later, once they weren’t so tired.

Domesticity elicited a more comfortable weariness, however, than exploring did (given the stresses revolving around dealing with the feral Pokémon in the mystery dungeons and their job requests’ oftentimes complex and tenuous mission objectives), and Eliana relished in being able to sit at one of the tables closer to the edge of the room with peace of mind—Kangaskhan had mentioned that their storage limit had been approaching, so Eliana was glad to keep herself busy in such a way.

Lu brought their drinks over once they were done, and they sat in oscillations of companionable silence and idle remarks while people-watching or bringing up recurrent topics that needed updating in context of their exploration team duties.

Not too much later, Bidoof and Corphish descended the stairwell, engrossed in a lighthearted chatter until they spotted the Guild graduates off to the side by themselves.

“Well, howdy!” Bidoof greeted with a toothy grin, “it’s sure been a while, yup yup!”

Eliana chuckled. They’d seen the lot of them only yesterday while checking the job bulletin boards and asking about Croagunk’s stock on special items. “It’s nice to see you two. Would you like to sit with us?”

“Hey, hey! Thanks for the invitation!” Corphish crowed, clacking his pincers enthusiastically. “I’ll go wait in line!”

“Gee, thanks, Corphish!” Bidoof said, clambering up onto the stool to be more closely leveled with the second-stage evolutions. “I didn’t see you two come through the crossroads today, yup yup.”

“We took an off-day,” Eliana told him, leaning down to sip from the dried reed that served as a straw. Lacking opposable thumbs, while something she had mostly grown accustomed to, was not ideal, but given the fact that many other Pokémon also didn’t possess them, there were always accommodations for it. “We’ll probably head back out tomorrow. What did you do today, Bidoof?”

“I sort of did the same,” he replied jovially, “since I filled in for Diglett as a sentry…although Chatot said I was more distracted than usual and didn’t seem very pleased, yup yup.”

“If you did that all day,” Lu said with a chuckle, leaning in and folding his forearms on the table, “I can imagine all the footprints started to blur together after a while.”

“Sure ‘nuff!” Bidoof laughed in return. “My eyes are still dazzled from all the sunshine, yup yup—I don’t know how Diglett can stand it!”

“He’s used to it,” Lu said, “because I’ve asked him the same thing before. He says they’re normally sensitive to light because he’s an underground dweller, but he’s adapted to it since Dugtrio spends so much time outside. Maybe you didn’t strain your vision too terribly—maybe you won’t get a headache on top of it.”

“Aw, I already started getting one, trying to keep up with all the visitors we had today,” the plump mouse Pokémon admitted sheepishly, “and Loudred was extra cranky, yup yup. My ears are still ringing. It didn’t help that I got worked up.”

“About what, Bidoof?” Eliana asked, frowning lightly. While Bidoof had his moments when he frustrated some of the others in times past—with herself included, she couldn’t deny that—he’d come a long way since Lu and herself had graduated. The thought of him getting his feelings hurt by someone else irked her, after all the support he’d given them both throughout the years—and if he had a name to give, one had best believe that she’d have some choice words for whichever poor soul who decided to pick on their mentor. “What happened?”

“Well,” he started, somewhat bashfully, “before you two came along, when I was still the newest apprentice at the Guild, I ran into a little patch of trouble with a group of thieves for a spell. I saw another one of those Pokémon come in—a different one, thankfully—and it reminded me of all of that.”

“Oh, no, Bidoof!” Lu breathed. “Did they show back up? Do we need to coordinate with Officer Magnezone? They didn’t harass you, did they?”

“No, sirree,” Bidoof replied hurriedly, “there’s nothing to worry about there! I haven’t seen their faces turn up around Treasure Town again since the Guildmaster gave them what-for.”

“That’s good,” Eliana murmured. “Were they trying to rob you?”

“Yup yup, my savings,” he said. “I got a mite discouraged with my progress around that time, so I thought about buying a TM to make me stronger. One of them saw it and they tried to ambush me in a secret mystery dungeon they thought no one else knew about. Tricked me right good, they did, but…I got something real special out of the whole thing.”

“And what was that?” Lu asked curiously.

“He got to meet Jirachi, hey hey!” Corphish piped up, his legs tapping the floor as he brought two glasses over brimming with smoothies. “That was his first real mission as a full-fledged explorer!”

“Aw, shucks,” Bidoof hedged, eyes averting and ears curling on his signature expression of embarrassment, “I was just going to say that I found a priceless treasure. I don’t really like spreading that information around a whole lot, you know, since he likes his sleep so much, but since it’s you guys…”

“Right,” Corphish said, setting the drinks down with a clunk upon the table before hauling himself up into the seat next to the normal-type. “I forgot that it’s all hush-hush—I’m sorry, Bidoof.”

“I’m curious, though,” Lu said quietly, leaning closer, “I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned this story, Bidoof. Isn’t Jirachi a Mythical Pokémon?”

“A renowned granter of wishes, from what I’ve heard,” Eliana offered—the trivia case easily, although the reasons she knew it did not…such was the curse of her amnesia, “if they’re awakened from their deep slumbers, that is. I take it that you had a wish granted, Bidoof?”

“He did, hey hey,” said Corphish indignantly, “but he never has told us what it was!”

“It’s sort of personal to me,” Bidoof answered quietly, twiddling his toes. “If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all,” she told him warmly, “I completely understand. You have the right to share something like that or not.” She glanced sidelong at Corphish with an amused look. “Even if others’ curiosity is strong.”

“I never meant anything by it!” muttered the ruffian Pokémon. “I was just curious, is all, hey hey.”

“That’s alright,” Lu assured him. He looked back to Bidoof. “May we at least ask if it came true?”

“It took a little while, but it sure did!” said the normal-type with shining eyes focused on the pair of them. “Even if it got a little scary, I’m so glad I got so experience all that!”

“You said it was a secret mystery dungeon,” Lu continued, tone brimming with that familiar, scarcely restrained enthusiasm he’d always shown information on new, undiscovered places. “Is it really that hard to find?”

“Not really,” Bidoof said thoughtfully, “but it had a passage that no other explorers knew about. The Guildmaster figured it all out right quick.”

That sounded like Wigglytuff, alright. Eliana smiled. “Does the name of that mystery dungeon happen to be Star Cave?”

Bidoof, Corphish, and Lu starred at her, stupefied.

“Why, yes, it is,” Bidoof breathed. “How’d you know that, Eliana?”

“I’ve read about it before in passing,” she explained. “You forget that I spent a lot of hours in the Guild’s library. There’s not a whole lot on this continent that I don’t know at least a little bit about.”

If the trio noticed how she intentionally left out the second half associated with that recollection, they didn’t point it out. She hadn’t spent those late nights combing through dusty tomes, scrolls, and maps alone, after all, and Lu had never been a night owl like she was, so he had usually ended up snoozing away despite his best efforts to be helpful by remaining awake and alert. She could still recall the looming, massive shadow cast against the plastered wall of the last room in the basement level by numerous flickering candles and oil lamps crackling merrily away in the hushed ambience of crinkling paper, notes scratched out with ink quills, and the harmonious layering of rumbling baritone and whispered falsetto indicating points of interest for further study and investigation within the texts in the otherwise undisturbed and cozy silence. The mere image lurking behind her mind’s eye of that pair of broad, pale hands pressing carefully down on the warped, darkened pages to help her track the pacing of the ancient glyphs caused her throat to tighten, so she shook her head to dismiss it.

“I was always told stories about Jirachi growing up,” Lu remarked, sidestepping the elephant in the room with all the grace of a dancer, “but I always wondered whether they were true or not. It’s nice to know that there’s still a little magic in the world.”

“Yup yup, it sure was an amazing thing to witness,” said Bidoof, his onyx gaze glittering in awe in the wake of the (likely far more pleasant) memory. “I think that I’m mighty privileged to have seen it all happen right in front of my eyes.”

Eliana glanced at Lu, noticing a similar expression mirrored upon the aura Pokémon’s face—a sort of childlike wonder that had, to her relief, never been crushed by the harrowing events they’d endured.

By the time they got home that night, they were properly exhausted. Lu cut up some fruit as a late snack for them to eat while they settled down, enjoying the mild salty breeze combing through their fur and tugging playfully at their ears and tails. Neither of them spoke until they finished, tossed their scraps into the compost bin, and got comfortable on their beds. Eliana let out a content little sigh as she curled up on her side, tucking her legs and venturing out with the end of her tail to curl around Lu’s own. It wagged unconsciously in response—a reaction that used to embarrass him.

“Good night, Lu,” she murmured drowsily, her eyelids fluttering shut.

“Good night, Eliana. Sweet dreams.”

“You, too.” That was something with which she struggled, he knew, especially after what she’d gone through with her Dimensional Scream and the nightmares they’d both had leading up to the final confrontation with the perpetrator of her amnesia. It gave the sentiment all the more sincerity.

Eliana did manage to slip into a steady, if light, sleep unplagued by regurgitations of her traumas… but she roused when she felt Lu slip from her grasp and shuffle out of bed. She lifted her head, bleary and confused by her mind still muddled, and squinted at the shape of her partner sitting near the edge of the bluff in the direct park of the wind blasting up the cliff. Her fuzzy gaze passed over his relaxed form, and she picked up on the light thumping of his tail in the dust on the floor and the fiddling of his blunted claws playing with his scarf.

“What’re you so excited about?” she croaked, digging the heel of her paw into the corners of her eyes to dislodge the crust that had gathered there. “The sun’s not even coming up yet, Lu.”

He turned his head, somewhat surprised, and a flash of sheepishness passed over him at the realization that he had accidentally woken her up. “You can go back to sleep,” he told her gently, “I just can’t get my mind to slow down after hearing everything that Bidoof had to say.”

Star Cave, while rarely marked on any save the oldest maps, was one mystery dungeon which they had not yet explored. She had intended to bring it up to Lu eventually, since she kept a list of locations they had been to, but she hadn’t realized that a Mythical called it his abode. She suspected that there was more to Lu’s excitement than the mere idea of investigating a new place, however.

“Do you want to have your biggest wish granted?” she teased with a lopsided grin, turning over onto her front to prop her chin on the edge of the hay pile. “Bidoof made it sound like that guy gets pretty cranky when he’s woken up from his century-long naps—we may not want to fight a sleepwalking Mythical, you know.”

“I’ve already had my biggest wishes granted,” Lu pointed out after a beat, his expression softening as he looked at her. Her flesh warmed beneath her pelt at the fondness warming his crimson irises. “I got to join the Guild, and I got you back. There’s not a whole lot more that I could ask for, to be honest, but the idea of it is still so exciting!” He tilted his head, considering. “Surely there’s at least one thing you’d like to have, Eliana. You don’t ever ask for very much.”

“I don’t know,” she trailed off, glancing thoughtfully out towards the rippling, mercurial sea. One obvious answer popped into her mind, but it wasn’t one she dared give voice to. She shrugged and settled on, “…I’d like to get my memories back, I think…if I had to pick one thing, that is.” She exhaled forlornly. “Even if…if I never see them again, I’d…I’d at least like to remember them.”

Lu turned fully to face her, folding his legs beneath him as his eyes shone with hope at her admission. “…You know,” he said, “we could go check it out, at least. Jirachi might not even be there anymore, since Bidoof found him, or his part of the cave could have been resealed. But if he is there…I think it would be amazing to have our wishes granted.”

“So you do have one?” she queried, quirking a brow.

“I do,” he nodded, “but it’s bad luck to say what they are before they come true.”

“You have a point. Maybe that won’t come back to bite me.” Eliana rested her check on the soft bedding with a gaping yawn. “You should try to get some sleep, Lu. If we want to plan for that trip, we’ll need to get an early start, at least, and get these jobs wrapped up. It’s quite the hike out there from what I remember.”

Lu obediently returned to his bed, and this time he reached out and grasped her paw in his own. “…For what it’s worth, Eliana,” he murmured, “I know it was hard on you, losing your memories, and that it still bothers you, but…I’m glad I got to meet you, despite it all…maybe that’s selfish of me.”

“I don’t think so,” Eliana returned quietly, squeezing the roughened pads of his toes fondly. “I think everything happens for a reason. Darkrai caused it, sure, but…I like to think that our meeting fulfilled some greater purpose in the long run.” She met his eyes in the dark. “I hope you know that I wouldn’t trade it for the world, Lu.”

“I know,” he said softly, and this time they didn’t wake until the sunrise crept over the horizon.

[freaky-pink-bug]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers ♡

sure thing~ what makes me happy:

- whatever makes me explode!!

- people who get me 😈💥💥

- dinosaurs!!

- soaking up the sunlight!!

- being free to do anything!!

(mod: i dunno who to send it to (;ﾟ∇ﾟ) also, what makes mod happy under the cut~)

(- when my work/ocs get noticed! especially when i get comments/asks about those!

- collecting cute trinkets!

- being understood/not having to mask

- getting to chomp down on favorite food

- seeing my favorite ships/characters!)

[bloo-the-dragon]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers 💜

Love,

@out-of-context-aro-ace :)

HIIIII!!!!

FIVE THINGS OUGH LES GO-

Jesters - those ones especially (those who follow me know)

Clear warm days that arn't too hot with a cool breeze and golden sunlight setting the puffy clouds alight against a deep blue sky

Seeing a REALLY BIG TREE

Engaging in silly behaviours with my frens

That feeling of content satisfaction after having made some progress on an art or writing wip

[ambivalence-and-torpor]

☼☼☼☼

@stuckstucktrolls

@astrumocs

@norts-trolls

@faerielandtrolls

[happyhauntt]

prologue, the burning sky — star wars.

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: prologue; the burning sky. some tragedies will always happen, like a story you've always been unable to rewrite. but you still try.

─── warnings: star wars au, canon divergent. character death, vehicle accidents, blood & injury (nondescriptive), child loss, grieving.

─── notes: this is the prologue to a series i'll be posting following my ocs. this is a whole rewrite of the star wars sequel trilogy featuring ocs and focusing largely on family, grief, what you would do / how far you would go for family, haunting the narrative. the whole point of this story is family. are there love interests?? yes. but the core of it is 'what would you for / because of family?' you don't have to like this, but if i receive any rude feedback i'll just block you because the star wars fandom already fuckin terrifies me, let me just post my sad shit.

─── word count: 2.5k.

━━  the beginning.

     The sun rises, as it always does, a burning orb cresting over the horizon, painting streaks of pink across the silvery sky. Dawn leaks in through the windows of a newly-broken home, reaching across the room with long yellow fingers to raise a house full of heartache.

     Dory wakes with itchy, saltwater eyes.

     For a moment, she wonders why the skin around her eyes feels tight and sore, her nostrils stinging. She winces as the sunlight bleeds through the blinds, casting the room in a happy yellow glow. Her stomach twists violently as she remembers what happened the night before, each painful memory crashing back into her mind; bile burns the back of her throat, and she has to choke it back down.

     A sob racks her shoulders, sudden and vicious. She presses a hand to her mouth, trying to keep it in as tears rise in her eyes again, blurring her bedroom into one sun-drenched mess.

     Something heavy lays curled at the foot of her bed. Blinking her tears away, she peers over the edge of the covers, finding her younger cousin Marya sleeping there. She must've crept in in the middle of the night.

     Gently, she nudges Mare, and the younger girl stirs. Dory pulls back the covers and pats the space beside her. Blonde hair stuck to her face, mascara smudged beneath her eyes, Mare pushes herself up onto her elbows and crawls into bed beside her cousin. Dory pulls the blankets back up over their heads, and wraps her arms around Mare, pulling her cousin as close as she can.

     "My room was too quiet," Mare whispers into the fabric of Dory's shirt, fingers curled and clinging tightly to it. "I wanted to stay up to hear any news, but I couldn't stay in there."

     "That's alright." Dory's voice comes out cracked; she runs her fingers through the tangled strands of her cousin's hair, trying not to wince as Mare hugs her, pressing into the bruises that are spread across Dory's torso like a gruesome abstract painting.

     She has never been the most affectionate person, not even to her own sister  ━  but things can change in the blink of an eye, and people get lost when you thought they would live forever, and things bleed when they aren't supposed to, and Dory just wants to hold onto Mare for as long as she can before she has to let go again, no matter the pain it causes.

     "Mum hasn't slept, has she, Mare?" asks Dory.

     Mare shakes her head a little. "Not since I last checked. She was sitting in the kitchen when I left my room earlier... my mum was sitting with her. Uncle Luke went to be with mama in case something happened with Rion, and I don't think they've come back yet..."

     Dory swallows at the mention of her other cousin.

     When she stumbled in last night, stained with blood and reeking of smoke, with Mare hanging onto her arm, her father had folded them both into his arms. He'd sat with her as she screamed and raged for hours, held her when she sobbed until there were no tears left, and never said a word.

     No one else had been there waiting for them; her mother had gone straight to the medical centre with Aunt Ashka and Aunt Leia when she heard what happened, and only returned in the early hours of the morning, pale as a ghost and clinging to Ashka as if she were the only thing keeping her standing.

     Dory had never seen her parents like that before. Yve Cybele was the strongest woman in the galaxy, and Han Solo was always smiling, laughing as if everything were easy.

     Last night, though, Dory watched her mother shatter into a million pieces, and her father had no way of pressing them back together again.

     Last night, her sister died.

     When Dory closes her eyes against the sunlight, it all comes back to her in sharp, jarring flashes.

     She recalls the events leading up to the accident with perfect clarity; she, her parents and her little sister, Clarya, had come to visit their family for a month, as they had done every year for as long as Dory could remember. The visit, at least, had gone reasonably smoothly  ━  she always worried about growing apart from her cousins, when they spent so much of the year on separate ends of the galaxy. She and Rion, especially; Rion had been absent their last few visits, training at their uncle's re-established Jedi temple, and this was the first she and Clarya had seen him in such a long time.

     But it had been fine. Clarya and Marya, both fourteen, had stuck together like glue from the moment they arrived. Dory and Rion, too, had gotten over their initial awkwardness and bonded once more. Rion, one year younger than Dory at seventeen, had delighted in showing off all the things he'd learned at the temple. Clarya had laughed and wished she was Force-sensitive, and Rion had lifted her in the air, saying that flying was far better than being a Jedi, anyways.

     Last night, Clarya had wanted to go racing. Rion had a landspeeder he'd hardly had the opportunity to use since getting back from the temple, and Clarya desperately wanted to try it. She was their father's daughter entirely  ━  with the wind in her hair, she could do anything, be anything.

     And nobody had ever been able to say no to Clarya.

     Memories of the accident are more fractured, flashes of blinding light and sickening noise. Dory and Mare had gone along with their siblings, not wanting them to get into any trouble. Rion had been driving... too fast, Dory had thought, but she'd never been a thrill-seeker like her little sister, so she hadn't been too concerned.

     Until Rion lost control of the speeder.

     Dory woke up on the ground. Mare was screaming, covered in blood that didn't belong to her, clutching Rion to her chest. He'd been unconscious, too, the jagged cut across his head leaking crimson into his hair. The air crackled around them, heat from the speeder rolling over them in waves from where it lay burning nearby.

     Clarya had been lying next to Rion. Her eyes, wide and blue as the dusk sky above them, stared blankly at nothing at all. She'd been impossibly pale, her leg bent at a strange angle, her hair stained pink. Dory had dragged herself over there, an unbearable pain digging claws into her chest, and only after a moment had she realised that her sister was dead.

     Mare holds tighter to her now. It is too warm beneath the blankets, and her lungs ache for fresh air, but salty tears flow silently down her cheeks and Dory cannot bear to face a world without her sister in it.

     "Where's dad?" she asks, careful to hold her voice steady, so she doesn't upset Mare anymore than she has to. Last night, Dory had been a howling beast, pounding fists against her father's chest, a cataclysmic explosion barely-contained within a fragile teenage girl.

     But Mare's brother, her closest and dearest friend, is still unconscious in the medical centre. The doctors fear he may never wake up. While the cruellest, most spiteful parts of Dory pray he never does  ━  he took her sister with his recklessness, and Dory has always seen the world in -black-and-white, and eye for an eye, his life for her sister's  ━  she knows it would destroy her aunts the same way it has destroyed her parents, left them a burnt-out wreck the same as the speeder that crashed.

     It would destroy Mare like it has destroyed her.

     Gently, Mare shrugs, sniffling. "He wasn't with Aunt Yve and mum. I think he left... Maybe to check on mama and Uncle Luke? I hope he comes back with news..."

     Dory has to fight to bite her tongue.

     Later, when the sun is higher in the sky and Dory is done being angry with it  ━  how dare you rise on such a dark day? she wants to spit at it, bloody fingernails grasping for the sky in a bid to tear it down  ━  she peels herself from her bed, showering away all the blood and smoke from the night before, though the pain remains.

     She passes the guest room her aunts had made up for Clarya during their stay. The door is cracked open a little, and peeking inside, she sees the room is exactly the way Clarya left it. Clothes strewn across the floor, a pile of her favourite books on her bedside table, the ones she brought just for this trip, in case Aunt Ashka and Aunt Leia didn't have any she wanted to read.

     Reaching out, she pulls the door closed sharply, as if she can trap her sister's ghost in there forever.

     Her mother and Aunt Ashka aren't in the kitchen, but the living area. Yve looks as if hell descended on her in the night, and left her nothing but a living corpse; her blonde hair, patches of silver creeping in at the roots, is a tangled mess, her eyes bloodshot. Ashka looks little better, her own blonde hair kept in a long braid thrown over her shoulder. She smiles at Dory as she enters the room.

     "Mare is sleeping in my room," says Dory quietly.

     Her aunt nods, hands folded carefully before her, every inch a politician. "I don't think she slept a wink all night, worrying about her brother."

     "I don't think any of us slept, really," Yve says. Dory's eyes dart to her mother, who pats her knee. Soundlessly, Dory pads across the room and curls up in her mother's lap, in a way she hasn't done since she was a little girl. Her mother wraps thin, strong arms around her, stroking her hair back and rocking her like she is a baby again, and Dory doesn't mind.

     Quiet sobs wrack her body as the tears flow once more. Her sister is dead. Sweet Clarya, her little sunshine sister, born in the summertime. She used to weave flowers in her hair and dance on the balcony when she could, and their father would let her stand on his toes even when she grew too old for it, just so he could hear his little girl laugh.

     Her sister wasn't an angel. Clarya could be a brat when she wanted to be, when she didn't get her way, but she was the brightest flame of them all, and in the end, she was only a flickering candle, snuffed out far too easily when she should have been a star, burning forever.

     Her mother is crying, too. Her tears flow into Dory's hair, making it damp, but she doesn't mind at all. There is enough ache here to drown the whole room, if they truly wanted to. Dory wants to open her veins and let it all spill out, let her ocean of hurt drown the world. She wants to take everyone down with her into this agony. She wants everyone is the galaxy to feel as awful as this.

     It was her fault.

     She should've tried harder to stop them going. Clarya wanted to go, and Rion wanted to show off for his cousins and sister, but Dory had known it was a bad idea and she'd let them do it anyway. She was the oldest. She should've stopped them. She should've known better. She should've told Rion to slow down, to stop...

     It's Rion's fault, too.

     "Have we heard anything?" she wonders aloud, her raw throat burning.

     There are a million other questions she'd rather ask. Like why did this happen, or how did this happen, or where has dad gone? All of them feel like ticking bombs, each designed to inflict maximum damage, so she sews them into the lining of her tongue and keeps quiet.

     Asking about Rion is normal, and safe, even if she doesn't care at all.

     Her mother's arms stiffen around her. Aunt Ashka frowns, the gentle lines of her face deepening slightly. When Dory looks properly, she sees her aunt's eyes are bloodshot, too, and there are dry tear tracks staining her cheeks. Her too-thin fingers weave together.

     "We didn't want to wake you," she says quietly, her gaze falling to the ground. Her shoulders droop slightly. "Leia called and told us about an hour ago... Rion woke up in the night."

     Dory swallows her bitterness like poison. It festers in her gut. She wanted him to die instead. If she could trade her life for her sister's, then she would, but she would trade Rion's first. Her cousin is lovely and good, and she hates him still for what he did. For what she let him do.

     It's his fault, and your fault, too.

     "Is he alright?"

     Ashka picks at a loose bit of skin on her thumb. She seems so unlike herself that Dory has to blink, in case she is dreaming. Her politician aunt, a former princess, married to another politician and former princess, has always been the smiling kind. Even so, Dory has always been able to pick out the similarities between Ashka and Yve, aside from their shared blonde hair and shining blue eyes.

     She sees the similarities in the harsh edge to their smiles, the mischievous glint in their eyes, the sadness that settled into their bones over thirty years ago which hasn't ever gone away. Ashka may be a politician, but she has always been easy-going in equal measure, determined to balance her stoic facade with something happier.

     Today, Dory isn't seeing Aunt Ashka. She is seeing Ashka Cybele, the politician, sharp-angled and cool, channelling her emotions into being someone else, to control the situation.

     "He's alive." Ashka offers a small, slightly-relieved smile, but Dory doesn't take the bait.

     "And?" There's something else. Dory can tell.

     Ashka hesitates for a moment, and then sighs. "He doesn't remember what happened. The accident. Or..." Her lower lip trembles. Something inside her breaks free, and a single tear rolls from her eyes and drips from her chin. She doesn't bother swatting it away.

     "Or anything at all."

     For Dory, her fragile world, held up with cracked pillars and broken columns, comes crashing down in that moment. Her damned cousin, Rion, who caused the accident and killed her sister, gets to blissfully forget about what he did. Her lovely cousin, Rion, whom she still loves because that's how awful the world is, gets to forget.

     And she has to remember.     If, in that moment, Dory had known what would come for them all  ━  what the memory of Clarya would make them become, how they would fill the void she left, how they would take the ache and learn to make it feel like home  ━  she would wish to forget, too.

[highlordofkrypton]

DC x ACOTAR // high lord of Krypton

look! headcanons nobody asked for!

One day, a floating city of unknown origins appears over Prythian. The seven High Lords send a small company of emissaries to investigate, and this company discovers one man. They announce themselves as the emissaries of the High Lords of Prythian, and ask for his identity.

THREE BRANCHING HEADCANONS

MY PREFERRED AU STILL SUPERMAN - Clark, sent here by some mission gone awry, panics and says he's the High Lord of Krypton, fully winging it. Either way, it's totally Barry and Speedforce things that landed him here. Or is it Mr. Mxyzptlk??? Or is this where the phantom zone sends people 😂

HIGH FAERIE VERSION - Kal-El, the High Lord of Krypton, has lived in the Hidden City for all his life. The Court of Krypton has been kept hidden because something, something magic, but I guess the secret's out and now they must all find a way to get along with one another.

LITTLE BIT OF THIS, LITTLE BIT OF THAT - The City was moved from the cosmos to Prythian with young Clark on it, adding Kryptonians to the mix of magical races on Prythian.

AESTHETICS

SUPERMAN IN PRYTHIAN

I like the idea of an AU where Clark appears alone, I think it would be really fun to see how interacts with each High Lord and each Court... which I will probably do in a separate post! (I was supposed to do chores...)

I also feel like being alone would add a really interesting dynamic; Clark can restart and be anyone he wants in this world, or he can carry the mantle he's built over the years.

One thing that jumps out is that magic is one of Superman's biggest weaknesses, so it'd be interesting to see how that would affect him. I always imagined Prythian as a lot more whimsical than the books, like having more suns and moons, so that would definitely affect him to. Maybe at different times of day, he is stronger or weaker.

CLARK/KAL-EL AS A HIGH FAERIE

If I had to make Clark a High Faerie and kick out all the Kryptonian lore, I think the idea of a Hidden City with Clark as the last of his race and finally being able to interact with the world would be so... fun to have him learn about everyone else and be so sweetly excited to just be... surrounded with people? He'd be awkward form growing up alone, too. Could make for some fantastic interactions.

Powers-wise, I do like the energy conversion (taking sunlight and turning it into something else). Although, I feel like that version of powers is closer to Tamaraneans (energy absorbtion), it would be cool if Clark could absorb energy and magic and transform it into something else or stockpile it in him to reinforce his own powers. I'd have to ponder about this a lot more.

Anyway, please enjoy my brainworms about this. I don't think these headcanon posts will have a set format. I don't have time to write a formal AU, and I think posts give me more liberty to ramble. I do think some characters, like Jason, would focus on his story because I can just see it.

If you have questions, scenarios or whatever, I love rambling, so feel free to drop in my askbox too! I'll be tagging these as #DC x ACOTAR AU & #high lord of krypton.

[consumeroflemoans]

Hello, it's me, one of the anons that put Vilidia scenarios into your askbox, I'm here once again, I came up with a Vilidia AU today while thinking about my own OC lore as one does

This does go back a bit because we are once again involving merfolk

So to get to the gist of it Idia is the keeper of a lightly cursed lighthouse out on the sea in a somewhat ambigious time period, the backstory I came up with for that one is that he and his brother who had spent their entire lifes in a small coastal town, gazing over the ocean together, dreaming and talking about the magical creatures and beings they had been told of in fables and read about in stories, imagening what it would be like to see the sunlight gleam off a mermaids shimmering scales, heroically resist a sirens song to stir your boat to safety or witness a sea monster winding its big body around underneath the waves

So they went out at night and untied one of the boats and tried to sail away into unexplored waters to discover things they've only fantasized of, but two children are as they find out suprisingly not enough to properly man a boat and they veer off course fast, it didn't matter if Idia had spent hours each night studying the constellations so he could navigate the two or if Ortho dedicated his free time to practicing all kinds of boating knots, they were both children and simply weren't strong enough to actually man a whole real boat on their own so they just kept drifting further out until the horizon was out of sight and all they could see anywhere was water

The next few weeks are painful as food dwindles, it keeps on raining and both their deck and they themselves get progressively more soaked, the clouds seem to swallow the sky up and they can't even tell anymore in which direction the tide is carrying them or even how long it's really been as it seems that everyday the fog gets thicker and all seems to be coated in an everpresent darkness, they brought more books than they did supplies and the absolute absence of anyone but the two is starting to gnaw at them

Eventually they get to meet one of the very myths they originally set out for, for the first time in who knows how long their boat bumps into something solid or rather something solid bumps into their boat, the water isn't clear enough to see much of anything, but when they look down eventually something breaks the surface and they see the scales of a sea monster, bigger than their entire boat, barnacles over its body and coral branches stuck in its finsIts not even the monster that really gets them, it tries, rams its head against the deck and the side of the ship and manages to damage the wood, though they're screaming and trying desperately to dodge the incoming battering they see a light in the distance, grab the steering wheel and use all their little child strength to take course, they get a fair bit closer, but eventually the monster lands good hit and the ship and it all goes sideways, they fall overboard

Idia wakes up coughing up water with someone repeatedly pushing down on his chest, when he comes to there's a stranger standing over him in a lightkeeper uniform and when he sits up the monster is slithering back down to the depths and Ortho is floating on top of the water

The lighthouse is situated in the middle of a piece of ocean where it's perpetually night and the water is haunted by creatures so thoroughly disturbing they should never ever be allowed to invade any other seas, it's pourpose is to both be a deterrent for sailors everywhere and for the keeper to keep track of everything

The position can't be kept by one person forever, but who can you pass it onto really when you're stuck in one place all alone with no one, fortunately for everyone who isn't you this place does something to the people that stay in it too long, borderline Immortality, merging with the things around you all that, you are allowed to "quit" once you have a suitable succesor and by suitable I mean anyone who's there and alive, just take the first guy you can get kinda deal

So Idia is sitting there with the a stranger who doesn't look entirely human, gets a manual thrown at him because if the keepers had anything it was time to kill, might as well do that and spare themselves the explanation, and a uniform much too big for him before he watches them walk into the ocean until they entirely dissapear

So now he's stuck in a lighthouse, he bothered to fish some of the books out of the water and dry them, some of the previous keepers left diaries and other stuff there, he's got a few of those ship in a bottle building kits which is kinda fun

And to boot the ghosts of those who did actually die there do get to stay trapped too so he's not all alone, he's got a bunch of ghosts of which most like to try clawing their way back to the mortal realm while screaming to be let out and also Orthos ghost is there too

Idia gets older, eventually the uniform starts to fit and it seems to him he looks progressively weirder each time he happens to walk past a mirrorFor all that it is supposed to be the most dangerous place in the entire sea, it's kind of calm honestly

And then someone crashes on the little island, finally Vil arrives in the story

A merman who got just a little lost to say the least

He's still an actor, just underwater and if I could have a little fun and continue the with something more appropriate to the very vague time period than movies and also tie into the whole singing thing often associated with merfolk I'd like to put him into opera

He just got out of rehearsal and god was it bad, the orchestra kept fucking up and his co-actors didn't even bother memorizing their parts and he didn't even manage to secure the role he wanted

It's one of his very favourite operas, one near and dear to his hard with almost every line memorized and it needs to be a perfect performance, but it can't be if everyone else keeps fucking it up! He might as well just do it all on his own, let him sing every role in the play, it can only get better from whatever downright insulting performance these idiots are pulling out of their asses

Undecided, but I think it could be intresting to do a mirror thing in which said opera is the tale of the lighthouse keeper in comparison to Idias myths of merfolk, even if the story is presumably highly altered, but a tale of a man who trapped the beasts of the sea and dutifully guards them to bring safety to all residents of the deep blue, engaged in a constant battle with the true leviathans of the ocean in a seemingly sisyphean attempt to beat them and be free

Truly it is incredible how he sticks to a position he derives no joy from for the good of others, never moving from his post or despairing and Vil cannot help but admire the tenacity of never stopping his fight, never giving up on the possibility of success, that he might one day be able to do what he wants if he keeps doing what he must until he succeeds, no he's not projecting, he's just right

He goes on a swim to clear his thoughts and gets caught in a stream he's pulled towards a dark part of the ocean with seemingly no ground in sight

He tried his best to fend off whatever beast tried to get to him, trying to hit them away with the fins on his tail, but the only escape he found was at the light house and now he's beachedIs Idia mildly pissed that the first person who ever survived entering during his time in as the keeper is not someone he can push into the job? Maybe

Yes, it's a bad and mean and how it happened to him still haunts him sometimes, there's a nagging guilt when the thought of quitting crosses his mind, but it's been like eight years and he feels like he's done his time and really he just wants to be over with this, is that so wrong?

But also, oh god... It's a merman, it's one of the very things he wanted to see with Ortho way back then, whose little ghost is so excited by the way, one of the myths he's been reading on repeat for years, honestly probably his favourite one

Pages upon pages describing the colorful scales of merfolk, their beautiful voices and how their hair would flow along with their movements as they swam

He had though the books grew stale after a while, but looking at Vil before him he almost feels like he could write a new one all by himself just from looking at him, an entire series, maybe a whole library

But Vil gets put into some kind of big water container, maybe in a bathtub of olden times, the classic

Things happen now, Idia gets his first face to face talk in almost a decade to the pretty, pretty merman and he sooooo nails it (lie)Vil is ever so slightly horrified at Idias somewhat neglient treatment of the position and slowly also comes to realize that having to suffer through duty isn't really something to be strived for

Normally you cannot leave the lighthouse zone once you came in and Idia may have given up trying to get out through any other way than walking into the waves, but Vil hasn't and won't, Idia is just a tad bitter that he wants to leave him alone again, maybe drags his feet on the whole escape a little, but he's been here for so long and he knows how much it sucks and he just... He can't do that to Vil, he just can't

I'm honestly very tempted to say, Vil gets out and they never see each other again and they're both so sad and melancholic and the stories in which they found comfort and inspiration take on a whole new level of meaning, a yearning and a fondness and a memory and a way to pay respect, Idia draws Vil into the pictures of his book, Vil changes the costuming of the keeper to resemble Idia and makes just ever so slight changes to the script, no one knows why he wants them to have an odd passion for little boat puzzles

And at this point I don't really have an idea, but I'll keep talking anyway because I'm not sure if full tragedy is the thing and I want to give some semblance of an alternative conclusion

There's a few attempts and a lot of planning, but Idia manages to distract and fend off some of the monsters so Vil gets to swim out, guided by the lighthouse, what they came up with were a few smaller mechanical paddle boats, from Idia, that have a liquid scent attached to them, from Vil, to simulate people in the water because it's the best I can think of right now, but if Idia thinks that's where things end oooooh, he's sorely mistaken

Though another struggle might be actually convincing Idia that he should leave at all because yeah, he doesn't like it, but what else does he have? I mean, Ortho's there too kinda and he can't just leave him and even if he could he's been gone for so long, he doesn't know where he came from anymore and he missed so much that he doesn't feel he can make up for, but doesn't mean he can't have a future and all that, Vil is going to try his absolute hardest to get him out

Also maybe, there's a little radio in the lighthouse that was constant static because it never had any kind of connection, hard to get when you're where Idia is, but with a lot of fiddling around and an actual knowledge of its existence an outside connection is established and coincidentally Vil starts broadcasting his singing after he comes back from his brief stint of being missing

Well then, goodbye

ANON.

ANON WHEN I GET YOU ANON.

AUGH THIS JUST REMINDS ME OF THE MYTH OF CALYPSO.

Where as punishment she’s trapped on the island of Ogygia with no way to really escape. And also being cursed to fall in love with anyone that washed up on her shores. Raaaah tying Greek mythology into any story with Idia my beloved.

This whole AU is honestly fascinating I want to read a 500k word fic on it this very second.

ALSO OMG VIL GETTING OUT WITH IDIA’S ASSISTANCE AND THEN JUST NEVER SEEING HIM AGAIN IS SO ODYSSEUS AND CALYPSO CODED

Someone stop me I swear

Pull me away

Aaaaaaaaaa

Also I am so fascinated by the underwater world you’re building here too. Like??? The sea monsters?? Having creatures of the depths the even the merfolk fear?? Also Vil still having an amazing singing voice and performing underwater is so iconic of him. He should have his tail draped in black pearls methinks.

ANYWAY

Them being apprehensive of each other only to eventually have to get to know one another because they’re the only real company they have. Vil can hardly stay in the dangerous waters outside, so he has to rely on his lighthouse keeper.

Also mgmmfmd my mind is going so many places but the thought that they both had idealized versions of each other in their mind. Their ideals are shattered, but they realize that they can relate to each other and even get along. They crack jokes and talk, making a short of light in this dreary place.

OMG

Idia letting Vil go and wanting him leave because he doesn’t want the new light in his life to be consumed by the darkness like he was long ago. He’s been the caretaker of this lighthouse for years. He’s faced grief and regret since he was a young child. But Vil isn’t like that. He’s a star, even underwater. He shines brightly in his performances and lights up a room with his song.

I like to think that Vil sometimes performs for Idia because he knows the lighthouse keeper truly appreciates it. Also his performances aren’t bogged down by worse performers around him.

And then Idia send him away, even though Vil doesn’t really want to leave him. He helps Vil escape so he can continue shining in the watery depths. He lets go of his only source of happiness because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it anymore. He can’t be selfish. Not when it comes to Vil.

AAAAA MY THOUGHTS ARE SUCH A MESS BUT I AM DYING

[aechii]

₍⁠₍ SPEAK NO EViL ₎⁠₎ ~ CH. 2

[ a kylian mbappe series ]

SYNOPSiS ! it's summer break, where, yes, academic freedom ensues, but for stellar, upcoming young football stars, an unmissable opportunity springs. bondy elite summer academy prepares its youth for the professional world, and inevitably, everybody is hungry to succeed. girl or boy. life isn't kind to 18 year old kylian mbappe, and being mute seems to be a limiting factor of his progress. but once he's accepted into the football camp, he's determined to prove that his football speaks for itself. yet, in the midst of fatal determination and apathetic competitiveness, he doesn't expect to grow intrigue for [y/n], a profound player in the camp's feminine unit, whose kindness and exquisite skill awakens a visceral feeling within kylian, showing him someone else that he could love in a world filled with hate.

PAiRiNG ! mute!kylian x fem!reader | fem!reader x oc!boyfriend

A/N !  i would like to first sincerely apologise for the super long wait. life's been 🫨 but we move. i just love how i’ve written kylian and ethan’s relationship here 😭 like im over here shitting tears and scraping paints off walls cos they’re honestly too wholesome and the best brothers to exist (canonically and prbly irl but who knows?). brice and kylian’s bromance is BROMANCING, lemme just say; im very proud of the characterisation i’ve established for everyone tbh. anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter! things get a little bit more yk 👀 so im very excited for you lot to read this hehehe. tell me your thoughts in my askbox, i’m very eager to know 🤍

SERiES MASTERLiST ! here!

TAGLiST ! [ ask here, those in bold i couldn't tag ] @sad1esgf @ts1mp0ne @fezlvr @ippid @kyksgirl @user6373738 @kenjekwownwjn @lalunaenamoradasworld @mywhimsyjournal @imagesthatlive @heli991113 @cinderellawithashoe

the moment kylian exits the car, he’s encompassed by a wave of thick disbelief. his eyes seem stitched to the grandeur building that stands before him; it’s all glass, glittering in the sunlight that bleeds incinerating heat upon the earth below, and it sends the boy into a frenzy. hasn’t seen infrastructure that screams money to such an extent.

he flaps a hand in front of his face, fanning himself, although rather futile. brice, from the other side of the vehicle, walks up beside him, crossing his arms as he leans on the door.

“wow… just wow.”

kylian turns to face him, arching an eyebrow, as he signs, “haven’t you been here before? moreover, many, many times?”

they’re in public, and as usual, kylian finds his throat go stagnant and brain go blank, so decides to use his hands instead. he’s ever so grateful for brice’s present at that moment.

“yeah, but,” brice exhales, almost wistfully, “it’s always better in person.”

“you’re right about that.”

kylian’s father rolls his suitcase towards him, dumping his duffel bag on top. a smile, a proud one, is ever present on his face, akin to kylian’s. he knows his father sees himself in him, has so much faith in him, and it’s a driving force of his purpose here. not just for him, but his whole family; a referral is the only thing that gleams in his conscience, knows that he mustn’t let the 5 weeks be in vain.

wilfried puts a gentle, fatherly hand on his son’s shoulder, a grounding gesture that speaks much to kylian’s mind. 

“do well, hm?”

“you mean, like i always do?” a cheshire grin fills his face, and it makes his father laugh.

“yes,” wilfried nods and chuckles, “like you always do, kylian mbappe.”

ethan materialises out of nowhere, hooking an arm over his brother’s shoulder. kylian almost pushes him off, but for the sake of goodbyes and farewells (for only 5 weeks, yes, but he’s never been away from ethan for even half of that), he tolerates his sudden attachment. 

“that hurt, you know?” kylian brusquely signs. ethan removes his arm as he returns a sheepish, “sorry,” before resting his head upon his brother’s shoulder. 

kylian exhales, then limply signs, “i’ll miss you bad.”

“it’s only 5 weeks?”

he looks at ethan incredulously, “only 5 weeks, you say? okay then. don’t call or text me at all.”

“you did not need to go there,” ethan’s response is deadpanned and immediate, making his older brother grin widely. kylian would definitely miss this. life will feel slightly sloped and discrepant without ethan’s constant antics, but kylian knows that his career comes with sacrifices, the most obvious one being stepping out of his comfort zone: the restricting boundaries that sees him remaining inert within the lines of local club football. 

bondy is the light at the end of the tunnel, and kylian just hopes that the journey would be worth it.

ethan snaps him out of his mental dally with a tight side hug, then he realises that it’s time for him to depart and register himself in. beyond a certain point, marked out by a blue roped barrier hanging from gold posts (a colour combination kylian would need to get used to for the next month and more, all in the name of bondy patriarchy), family members are prohibited, and so last words are to be said within the parking lot. 

“i will miss you,” ethan mumbles. evokes a smile out of kylian as he notices ethan’s hesitation, “believe me, i know.”

from behind him, his father urges him to go as a line of participants accumulate, and begins to feel the trepidation press against his heart.

“love you, bro.” ethan signs. his mind screams, ‘don’t go, don’t go, don’t go.’

kylian’s mind shrieks, ‘don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.’

“that referral is yours.”

masks a pained smile behind a light-hearted one, ruffling ethan’s hair as he received a glare back. god, he’ll miss ethan more than he fathomed.

“it is.”

then they fistbump, for the last time.

+_-

inside is cool and dry, differing from the hot, humid, sticky air outside that had clung feverishly to skin. the interior structure of the academy puts its external counterpart to utter shame. high ceilings, suspending blue-jewel-embezzled chandeliers, ribbons of gold and royal blue traced in half-wave curves along the walls that seem to be the only thing in this unfathomable-acred campus that don't  abide by the fervid colour scheme. kylian has never seen as many trophies in one glass cabinet (or, rather, walk-in closet; it is massive) as what just stood in the far corner of the foyer. 

“close your mouth, ky,” brice leans in and whispers, snickering. they are unlucky, having to join the right foot of the queue after spending a few extra minutes receiving last minute warnings and advice from their mothers especially. nothing with ill intentions, but rather harsh loving concern. 

kylian immediately shuts his mouth, flushed. brice grins wider, shoving a hand atop kylian’s hair and rubbing it roughly. he’s immediately slapped away and sent on his way with a pointed glare. 

“you're a heathen."

brice snickers, albeit loudly, "right back at you."

they're both taken aback as two boys right in front of them, identical twins they suppose because they look eerily akin, glance behind with looks of confused judgement. the exchange is swift and they turn to face ahead no more than a second later, before huddling close to the other, and swapping whispers. 

their thoughts, though internal, are vehemently blatant to kylian. from a retrospective point of view, he understands– it's as if brice had talked to thin air. he nudges his friend beside, and dejectedly gestures, "sign, please."

brice's understanding is immediate, and rather apologetically, he responds, "okay, sorry." 

"don't be."

they stand and shuffle down the line in silence. it's unlike brice to be wordless for such an extended period of time, but as for kylian, it's second nature. an hour passes, they've only progressed by half of the queue, and its obvious that brice is becoming restless. they haven't sat once, and although kylian had suggested he sit on his suitcase (it was undoubtedly big enough), he refused, saying that it wasn't strong enough to bear his weight. 

"you good, b?"

brice catches him a second too late in his peripheral vision, and asks him to repeat.

"i said, are you good?"

"it's like you're asking me to fight," brice signs humourously, "but yeah, i'm good. just… buzzing with every feeling you could think of."

kylian nods, but brice's words simmer properly, and he then realises what he had said, "every feeling? so you feel… angry, con-"

"why wouldn't i be?"

kylian's delirious, "why… would you be?"

he watches as brice glares at the boys in front of them, and he sighs, "i thought you would've gotten used to it by now, brice."

"you're my best friend— practically practically a brother to me. why would i just let it go, moreover, get 'used to it'?"

kylian notices how his signs get more rapid and hard to decipher. he has a habit of merging two words- subconsciously, he doesn't blame him- or missing out words entirely when he's angry. he stares more intently to understand his friend. 

"i get you. but you're doing more harm than good when you retaliate."

brice doesn't sign back, and huffs begrudgingly. they fall into a prolonged silence once again, and it takes another half an hour before the reach the front counter. 

"welcome to bondy academy! can i please have your names and factions?"

the receptionist is a young woman, probably only 3-4 years older than the two, with honey skin and honey skin and a frizzy afro. kylian looks at her gold-and-blue name tag and sees the name 'genevieve' written in bold black. 

brice gives her a friendy smile, "my name is brice tchaga and his," he points at his friend, "is kylian mbappé. we're both in elite. we’re both in elite."

she nods, typing their names into the computer before again, nodding affirmatively again. she slides a clipboard upon the counter with a pen, and asks them to write their signature next to their name. brice does so, and slides it to kylian, who looks at him and discreetly signs, "i don't have a signature."

"you don't?" brice's face morphs into one of subtle surprise as kylian nods his head. 

"just… make up one. or just write your name fancily, it's not that important here."

kylian is acquiescent, and as brice waits for him to finish writing, he looks up to see genevieve looking at them. her eyes, however, hold no malice, and rather watches them, smiling. 

"you both sign?"

brice's mouth falls agape, "you sign?"

genevieve chuckles, "yeah. my mother is deaf so i had to learn early."

by now, kylian's noticed the exchange between the two, brice turning to him for permission to share his reason. he gives him a look, and brice knows that kylian can handle himself. he's probably happy that he's found a common ground with someone who's not brice, even though she may only be the receptionist. 

"i've been selectively mute for a while, so i talk mostly by signing. brice here is my translator, i guess— wow, now i'm trauma dumping."

kylian is ever-glad that it's practically just the three of them in the foyer, save a couple of bustling workers who are too busy to notice them. 

genevieve laughs heartily, grabbing two gold lanyards from beside her before handing it to the both of them. 

"don't worry, you're good. those are your id and keycards by the way. you lose them, you have no access into your room for the next 24 hours."

kylian scrutinises his and makes a face when he notices the rather unflattering photo they had used. 

"you two are running late now, so i'll let you go," genvieve says. her face suddenly turns stoic, "my only advice is to keep your head down, not everyone here is as nice as i am."

"i did come here expecting the worst, to be honest."

"pessimist."

"i'm being practical, brice."

genvieve intervenes, "it's not all that bad. arguably the best football experience you'll ever have before going professional."

she glances at her watch, alarmed, "okay, i really have to let you go now. the conference room is through those doors, down the stairs, and then the first door on your right."

kylian smiles at her, and expresses his gratitude as brice does the same. she dismisses it with a graceful wave of her hand.

"i'll be rooting for the both of you," genevieve chides, then signs, "good luck."

hopeful and with spirits elevated, brice and kylian amble to the conference room. it’s capacity is just as expected, if not larger, occupied by gold-rimmed blue chairs which accommodate several other competitors, in 6 rows of ten. their entrance alerts those already seated, and a few turn around to take a glance. he wasn’t expecting to see all factions congregating simultaneously, observing the range of ages situated around the room. kylian feels the heat of anxiety nip at his skin, and as he and brice stroll to take their seats, he begins to feel nauseous. 

it’s only a few seconds later when a man, with salt and pepper hair and clad in a suit of a colour that quite frankly, kylian is absolutely tired of seeing and it’s only his first day, walks in. his aura of assertiveness is palpable, and as he, along with a few other adults, take their stand on the pulpit before them, the whole room falls silent.

a lean man, dressed in casual sporting gear and first born trainers steps forward, "all rise.'

a ripple of shuffling bodies and chairs permeates around the room. kylian observes his surroundings, analyses how he, along with brice, are one of the shortest boys in the elite faction. he grumbles internally at that. 

the same voice tells them to sit, and the audience obeys, then the room slithers into another deafening quietude. it feels as if it's prohibited to even breathe and kylian can sense his hands gathering with sweat. 

"good morning bondy," the same distinguished man from earlier pronounces, voice detailed with bass, "my name is jacob dubois and it is an utmost pleasure to have all 60 of you here; i hope the appreciation is reciprocated."

a few nods come from the kids around him and slight relief washes over kylian as he realises that they are free to move. 

"you all have been selectively chosen to come here. we didn't choose random aspirants, but ones who show passion, determination and most of all, potential." 

kylian's fingers tingle with excitement. he's here for a reason. 

"thus, we expect all of you to follow our ethos with pride."

formalities extend for more than half an hour, kylian feels his buttcheeks ache and has had to nudge brice awake numerous times. 

"did you not sleep?"

"i did," he signs back sluggishly, "this talk is always boring."

kylian can't deny that, shaking his head with a small grin. 

as the clock strikes 11am, an hour since they had entered the room, the director finally graces them with the technicalities of the regime itself. 

"your 5 weeks here will be filled with training, educational trips, end-of-week assessments and, most importantly, improvement. you're expected to be up at 5am everyday-"

murmurs erupt, mostly by the younger factions, and mr dubois brings a palm up to silence them. 

"-and curfew is at 9pm. anybody who is seen outside of their accommodation past this hour will be punished."

he waits for any objections, doesn't get any, and proceeds. 

"today is your first day of training. you'll first be taken to your rooms where your kit will be, then receive a tour of the campus. all factions will congregate in their designated parlour where their head coach will give itineraries, and tell you what to do next."

"who's ours?" kylian asks brice, and he shrugs, "dunno. i was asleep at that part."

rolling his eyes, kylian shifts his focus back to the man behind the pulpit. 

"i wish all of you the best, and may the best 3 get their referrals."

a round of applause ensues as the line of coaches upfront move towards where they were sat, and, kylian guesses she's the junior faction's head coach, a tall woman with blond hair orders the kids sat right at the front to stand. they leave the room with their rolling luggages and the rest move into hushed, murmuring chatter. 

"that was long for no reason," brice stretches his neck as he signs, yawning. 

"i know, but sleeping? i thought you said you got 8 hours."

"well, i could barely sleep for 5. my aim was 8."

kylian brings a hand to brice's head, pushing it down to his shoulder. 

"sleep for a bit, something's telling me we'll be here a while."

the boy snuggles in immediately, whispering a 'thank you', in which kylian just pats his knee in response. 

by the time they're summoned, it's been another half hour. kylian taps brice awake, signalling at the suitcase, grateful that brice catches on quickly. his stomach churns in hunger, yet knows they won't be eating for while. 

their head coach, kylian comes to learn, is coach moreau; dark-skinned, averagely talk with dark facial hair. he's not as intimidating as mr dubois, but both kylian and brice can smell his sternness from a mile away. 

"your rooms are on the other side of campus so we'll have to walk to get there. at the lobby, i'll give you your door numbers and you can find your way. please keep your keycards safe, you hear?"

they all nod, and some verbally express their affirmatives.

"good. let's go."

their amble is a good 5 minutes, and both boys, at the end, don't see the need of having a tour. they had passed everything they could think of, and they wonder just what more bondy could have. 

the accommodation is a sleek mini apartment complex, in kylian's words, and seeing as though it only seemed to have one floor, he's unsure if it'll fit all 20 of them. the main door is cut from space grey tempered glass and two security men stand mightily at the entrance, greeting coach moreau, shaking hands.

he then turns towards them again, "feminine and masculine units are separated. this building is for the boys and the girls' complex is behind this one."

kylian ignores the defeated sighs that come from a few boys in front of them as brice glances at him.

"get settled and dressed in your kits by," he checks his watch and gives a reasonable time, "12.15. do not wear your boots indoors, at all, so please keep them in the string bag we've provided for you. let's start rooming you lot."

pairs of names are stated with their room number and little by little, the group breaks off. kylian and brice's names come last, and they are given the number 5b.

they move towards the elevator, waiting for it to come back down. the metal doors slide open and they shuffle inside, kylian just about catching the sight of the girls leaving as the doors shut again. 

brice releases an exaggerated sigh, "i need sleep."

"we've got a whole day ahead of us, if you're able to, you should buy some lucozade at lunch."

brice shakes his head, "i stay clear of those things, mr addicted-to-energy-drinks."

kylian huffs, throwing his hands in the air, "i'm not addicted, i just have one a day."

"have or need?"

kylian throws him a deadpanned look as the elevator opens, giving him the middle finger. brice snickers and follows him out, both looking at the doors they pass for their room. they reach the end of the corridor before finding it, and brice uses his card to open the door. 

"holy. fucking. shit."

brice drops the handle of his suitcase, rushing in like a child gone feral at a candy shop. kylian rolls his eyes as he picks it up, but then freezes when he notices the interior. 

the entire space as soon as they enter, is an enormous area of the living room. it's just about bigger than brice's own bedroom back at home (which, in turn, is much larger than kylian's) and everything feels too fresh to touch. a colour scheme of dark grey and white occupies the space, a large bondy logo  stuck on an empty wall in dark blue. 

"i'm surprised they didn't dump a bright gold sofa here," brice teases, and kylian hums in agreement, "with you on that one. i'm getting tired of seeing those colours, i swear."

brice opens one of the doors, notices that it's the bathroom, then closes it again. 

"restroom?"

"yup."

brice goes to the one not far from the one he had just opened and storms inside screaming, "dibs this one!"

that triggers kylian, who runs to the room, completely astonished at the size. there's no way in hell that the other one's bigger. 

brice jumps back first upon the bed, closing his eyes in bliss, " 've missed these beds."

kylian leans on the door frame, watching his friend in faux disdain, "didn't even give me a chance to fight for this room."

"it doesn't work like that, ky."

"you're sick."

he moves back upright, walking to the room beside brice's, and is succumbed by shock. 

just what more surprises does bondy have?

his room is marginally larger than his friend's, a large king sized bed, protruding outwards from the wall situated to his right. a white desk sits near the window, which overlooks the bondy campus, and beside that, a white-washed timber wardrobe. 

he grants brice the peace of mind at the moment, smirking to himself, and shuts the door quietly as he moves into the room. on the bed is a navy blue string bag, and kylian picks it up. the material is light yet sturdy, feeling the thin material of his kit inside, then he tugs it open. 

the attire is navy blue, with one thick gold stripe running vertically on the left, the crest sitting right on top. he smiles warmly as he turns it around and sees his surname etched in gold as well. there's no number. he's the number 7 in his club, and knows he needs to prove that he's worthy of it here. 

he changes into his kit and glances at the clock. it reads 12pm, and kylian exits his room to retrieve his case just his friend does the same. 

"i feel expensive," brice chides, kylian agreeing. he's also clad in his kit, everything completely identical apart from the name scribbled on his back. 

"we only have 15 minutes to unpack," kylian informs as brice wheels his suitcase into the room. 

"i probably won't do all of it– only half."

they both sort out their wardrobe, almost getting carried away as brice barges into kylian's room telling him that they have 2 minutes to spare. they decide to take the stairs this time, woe betide them they leave their keycards, and reach the lobby just as coach moreau gets there too. 

through the glass door awaits the feminine half of their faction, already socialising as a group, and kylian feels his chest dip. he tries not to think about it too much, afterall, he has brice, and it'll be very unlike his friend to ditch him for someone else during their say. 

coach moreau moves them outside before talking, "we'll begin the tour down the south wing- here- before moving towards north. i hope all of you are ready because this campus is big."

brice leans into kylian and whispers, "you don't say." kylian breaks into a smile, pushing his friend gently. 

during the hour the spend walking- walking!- around bondy's grounds, kylian's brain overspills with information that flies into his ear and out the other. salvages as little as the fact that south wing consists of their dorms, from junior to elite, and leisure spaces whereas its north counterpart inhabits the main and training pitches, every type of hall you could think of, separate parlours for factions to bask in and the canteen. 

brices legs are completely spent, kylian's no different, and once they make their way into their designated space, brice wastes no time to sit on the blue settee. 

"okay everybody, take a seat," coach moreau's voice comes from behind the bunch. they all find a place to sit as the man stands at the front. 

“since i’m sure not everyone knows each other here, we’ll do short introductions. you can state your full name if you want, and what club you currently play for,” his eyes scan the room. the passion is definitely there, that’s undeniable, and coach moreau can see more potential than he ever has. “football is not just about skill and playing, but forming relationships with your teammates, as well. remember, bondy is competitive, but do not let it get to your heads, okay?”

a chorus of ‘yes coach’ follows, and he smiles at the teenagers before him. kylian’s brain seems to go stagnant and he feels scorched all over. he hadn’t planned for this, isn’t prepared. brice looks at him, silently asking if he’s okay, but he doesn’t find it in him to respond. before brice could initiate his concern, verbally, their coach is speaking again.

“alright, we’ll go clockwise, i’ll start; i’m coach moreau and i’ve been coaching here for about 20 years now. i’m normally accompanied by coach lambert, who teaches the feminine unit, but she’s been off for the past few hours. she should be back for training later today.”

the next boy starts to speak. he’s tan skinned, with dark brown hair that’s completely shaved into a buzzcut, “i’m zion saez and i play for l’aigles.” 

the girl beside him shoots him a grin, and he returns it. if anyone present was any dumber, it would be unknown that they’re a couple. they try to be discreet, but their fleeting, prolonged touches sell them out. 

“i’m [y/n], and i also play for l’aigles,” zion’s girlfriend states after. a girl beside her begins her introduction, and before kylian could fathom, it’s his turn. he doesn’t speak- for god’s sake he can’t- and the silence is nibbling at his ears. 

“boy, it’s your turn,” coach moreau’s voice penetrates into the room. everyone’s staring, their eyes dig into his skin, and he brings his hands up to sign. he’s shaking, but hopes that brice can determine it good enough.

“i’m kylian, and i play for loc.”

no one makes a sound afterwards, and his heart collapses in on itself. coach moreau looks at him, his eyes speak of something he cannot understand, then a voice comes from his far left. 

“can you not speak?” his tone is almost degrading, and the humiliation that permeates through kylian is an understatement. 

“he’s mute,” brice seethes, “there’s no reason to be rude about it.”

the boy doesn’t respond, staring at brice with his face crumpled in scorn, and kylian nudges him to let it go. an expectant, yet awkward silence commences, and kylian has to nudge brice again, knowing that in his state of anger, his self-awareness is absent. 

“brice. i play for toc too.”

coach moreau’s gaze interchanges between zion and brice, then he says, “what i said before isn’t a joke. football is about respect, and you’re taught that from early, or am i lying?”

there’s no reply, and he repeats himself, louder and miffed, “am i lying?! zion? brice?”

a collective, murmured ‘no coach’ comes from the both of them, and coach moreau hums. 

“i’m glad i’m being heard. let’s go to lunch.”

+_-

their first training session succeeds after their lunch break, in which the meal was a simple plate of pasta, but kylian had to get seconds. the more bondy surprises him, the more he thinks there’s a catch. privilege cannot come so effortlessly and also have him running scot-free; he leaves that thought for his future self, though. 

coach moreau has gathered them at the centre of one of the training pitches, with the feminine unit on another with coach lambert, after an exertive warm-up and drills ensemble. 

“i feel like i’ve played a full 90,” brice complains to kylian as he stands beside him. his friend pats his shoulder apologetically.

“since it’s your first day, i think a good game of 5-a-side will really establish the skill we have in this team, don’t you think?”

a cacophony of excited cheers and hollers come from the boys and adrenaline finally pumps within kylian. 

“team one will have…” he scans his clipboard, “brice, joel, kylian, rafael and kody. the rest of you on team two, get yourself some green bibs, you’ll be shooting to the goal on my right. let’s get going boys.”

kylian and brice get in position as they wait for the opposing team to situate themselves. once they do, the game begins with the shrill sound of coach moreau’s whistle, and kylian is already dashing for the ball. it’s passed to someone else on the green-bib team before he can reach it, and as brice is closer, he’s able to tackle it off the boy. he passes it back to kylian, who makes a run for the goal.

his speed gives coach moreau whiplash, he has never seen such like it; it’s almost an art to watch, elegantly swift and gets faster with every metre he runs. he circles kylian’s name and goes back to watching the game, just quick enough to notice zion barge into kylian with such vigour that he tumbles out of the pitch. he pushes his whistle between his lips and blows it forcefully. 

everything happens with hastened velocity. kylian is quick to regenerate himself, standing up and immediately shoves zion’s back with all his strength. his sides throbs with a dull ache from the collision prior, yet all he sees is red as zion’s face comes uncomfortably close to his, lips stretched in a sickening smile as he taunts kylian. 

“what are you gonna do, huh? you can’t even talk, you fucking freak.”

then he’s dragged away by coach moreau before his fist can even come close to zion’s cheek.

[annoyingttt]

Hi, i hope you have a good day;)

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you (if you're want it😳👉👈🥰😳🥰)

Omg hello this is my first ask ever <ЗЗЗ So!!! 1. Fanfiction. I'm no writer but I love reading it!!! There are such INSANELY talented people out there, writing for my favourite fandoms, and isn't that a miracle? Thank youuuu my favourite authors, you know who you are <З 2. Media! Fanfiction kinda hinges on this point too but who cares. I've been identifying myself through my media since I was in 5th grade, and while it's important not to take it too far, there is a handful of games and movies and cartoons and other media types that lie in the foundation of my soul. I think I can survive a lot of things, but not being separated from my stories!!! I cradle them all in my arms and tuck them away into the coziest corners of my head for safekeeping <3 3. Sunshine! Nothing can be all that bad if the sun is shining. My city doesn't get all that much sunlight, but whenever I see the blue sky and the fluffy clouds and the green trees and everything is so beautiful <З 4. My room! It's quite sizeable and has huge walls, and every bit of those walls (except for everything that's over the 2 meter mark, I can't reach there) is covered with the things I stuck up there! There's a ton of my friends' drawings over the years, plenty of my own art, dried leaves, small knicknacks, stickers, pendants, postcards, photos, various memorabilia that I've been collecting my whole life. My life's story could be told through the walls alone, but I have so much more stuff here. My friends jokingly offer to open a Museum of Me here and charge for entrance. I love showing my new friends my room and telling them trivia about the stuff there! 5. My little sisters! We're not actually related, they're just my couple-of-years-younger friends, but one I've known since we were both kids and the other I've met a year ago when I was working in a summer camp. Being a meaningful influence in a younger person's life and being able to help them figure things out that I wish I had help with when I was their age is so important to me. I was never truly close with anyone from my biological family aside from my mother, but they show me that I'm not lost on the concept after all. The love I feel for them is immeasurable!