#the celestial skin! the rainy day!

[madefate]

me leaving on twitch in the bg for days so that i can get all of my mei stuff (＠_＠)

[cry4mina]

Orion’s Belt

(Sana x fem!reader)

Word Count: 7.5k

Fluff/Light Angst/ Smut

Summary: You and your bestfriend Sana take an impromptu vacation after her boyfriend dumps her sparking some interesting interactions and confessions. Tw: friends to lovers, suggestive, sex, drinking, swimming, anxiety on planes, food, thunder storms, cuddling. Let me know if I missed anything! A/N: Halfway proof read! This is a lot different than the others that I've posted and I hope you enjoy it just as much! Thanks to @neoplatinum for listening to me ramble off ideas and pushing me to finish this! Feedback always appreciated and DMs are always open!<3

—

“Sana! Are you ready to go? We have a flight to catch!” shouting from the foyer of her penthouse after letting yourself in with the spare key she gave you, patiently waiting for the Queen Femme to gather herself for your impromptu vacation.

“Yes, Y/n! Just give me a second!” flustered at being rushed by you, her best friend, though this entire vacation was her idea, how could she not already be prepared for it? 

Being best friends of about 4 years meant you and Sana did almost everything together and if she needed you, you were present with no hesitation. Sana purchased the tickets, booked the hotel, and sprung it on you two days before you were scheduled to leave, knowing you would agree immediately.

You and Sana met at a coffee shop downtown on a rainy evening in July all those years ago. Enjoying your latte and watching the rain trickle down the window when she caught your attention and told you she liked your shoes with a brilliantly beaming smile that knocked the wind out of you. You ended up talking for hours and have been inseparable ever since.

You have seen every emotion play across her face over the years, knowing her like the back of your hand and always anticipating what she needed or wanted. She loved that about you and always reciprocated the same tenderness and care.

Two massive suitcases emerge from the doorway, followed by Sana looking elegant as ever, wearing a strapless sundress that flowed off her figure perfectly, hues of peach lightly woven in a filigree pattern around the edges of the white fabric, giving her skin an celestial glow. Her hair is down and slightly messy which was not normal for her, but given her emotional state- and how much she had to pack this morning -you understood. She was just not herself today. 

Sana was going to pack last night but found herself laid on the couch on the phone with you, crying and stressing about her now ex boyfriend and how he broke up with her over text message for seemingly no reason, a few days prior. Confused by the action and saddened by the surprise separation, how could she organize a suitcase if she couldn’t even organize her mind?

The boy she had found herself in a relationship with was not someone you liked, in any sense of the word. The way he spoke to her was vile and always figured he was using her for a social status boost. It was hard to watch the relationship develop unevenly, one-sided in the way of Sana trying to make it work and him not caring in the slightest.

Hoping you were wrong, you said nothing to Sana about it. If she wanted the experience of being with him, you weren’t going to try to convince her to leave him, you knew better that to meddle in her business. Just being around for her if it all fell apart and it took 6 short months for the foundation to crack, cascading the rest of the relationship with it. Sana standing in the middle of the ash and smoke, sifting through the pieces of rubble for the parts of her she wanted to keep.

Truthfully, it hurt you knowing she was with him. The way he would ignore her speaking to talk to everyone else and being too emotionally distant and cold with her. Sana deserved better than this rude and callous man and you wished she knew how badly you wanted to give her the world. 

The anger you felt towards him was justified, you could treat her better even if you were hiding the feelings you developed for Sana. It was a difficult task, considering who she was as a person, so supportive, empathetic, kind and always willing to help anyone who needed it. No wonder you fell for her,  especially with how affectionate you were with each other after becoming so close. 

Always cuddling on the couch, holding hands, and leaning on each other. After almost drunkenly making out multiple times, you always assumed there was something there but never asked or acted on it in fear of losing the strong friendship you built with her over time. 

“Okay, okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.” huffing through the tense air surrounding her. The inflection of her voice drenched in stress with a hint of sadness as she tried to carry on like nothing was happening, catching the single tear that fell from her alluring eyes as it smoothed over her cheek.

You made an empathetic face at her, holding your arms out knowing she will find her way into them, burying her face in your neck, eyelashes tickling you as she sniffles and sighs, finally allowing herself to partially fall apart in your arms and you were just happy she felt safe enough with you to do so. 

Internally, your veins are screaming white fire as Sana leans into you more. Holding her was like holding the personification of the sun, and you were melting underneath her embrace. Warm tones of amber and sandalwood emanate off of her and fill your nose causing your heart to skip a beat, pulse quickening, as you try to push the clouds away from over her head. 

Hands rubbing the middle of Sana’s smooth back in attempts to comfort her through this time, she regains composure, straightening up while you are wiping the additional tears, a small giggle leaves her lips as she grabs her suitcases and waits for you to open the door for her like you always did. 

“Why was your heart beating so fast? I could feel your pulse in your neck.” chuckling out of puzzlement as you both step out the front door into the warmth of the bright summer sun, immediately throwing her sunglasses on to hide her eyes from the rays and the public. 

“Uh…I’m…angry.” telling a half truth as you try to keep your composure knowing she was watching your body language fly through a few different emotions before settling on calm.

She always knew when you weren’t being honest. Your tells were easy for her to pick up on, even if she never expressed that. The way your eyes would veer away from her, always to the floor, pupils constricting with worry of her finding out the truth. What if Sana already knew what you thought you had tactfully hid from her?

The thought sends a slight chill down your spine, bones cracking as you put your luggage into the car while she climbs into her passenger seat. Seat always adjusted to Sana perfectly, she would grill you if it was ever adjusted to anyone else, no matter who it was. 

Turning the car on and looking over at her, sitting with her feet on the dashboard scrolling through her phone looking for the perfect song. Bluetooth was set up to attach to Sana’s phone first because she loved to play DJ and who were you to deny her any happiness, you wanted to give her any reason to smile even if it was as simple as controlling the music.

—

The flight went by quickly, thankfully. Only an hour and 15 minutes of a clenched back and trying to remember how to breathe properly, you weren’t fond of flying. Sana held your hand and checked in with you multiple times through the short flight, she couldn’t stand to see you so anxious in your own skin, but it did bring her great joy to know you’d be willing to face your fears for her. A true testament to how much you loved her and who you were as a person.

—

A 2 bedroom villa by the beach was your home for the next week. It was about as big as a 2 bedroom apartment, still fancy and spacious but with a modern twist. Crown moldings, vaulted ceilings, every amenity you could ever imagine in place. 

There was a small metal spiral staircase to the side of the living room, curious about what it was, you pointed it out to Sana.

“What's this lead to?” questioning the warped metal twisting into the ceiling.

“Go find out!” Motioning her hand up the stairs, your head tilts in curiosity, smacking your lips and then running full speed up the stairs as Sana laughs from below, finally following you when she hears you gasp loudly. 

Tongue pinched between her teeth and smile wide as ever, climbing up the stairs to see your face. You are gobsmacked, hands over your mouth and eyes wide with wonder as you’re taking in the loft with a huge skylight with a conversation pit underneath it. 

“I know one of our favorite things to do together is stargazing so when I saw this, I thought it would be perfect for our week long adventure!” eagerly shouted as she threw herself around you, pressing her chest against your back and resting her chin on your shoulder. 

“This is perfect!” placing your hands over hers on your stomach and leaning into her warmth, and knowing you’d be spending the majority of your nights suspended under the stars with Sana talking about life and enjoying each other's company. 

“Alright, let’s go! We have plans!” suddenly heading for the exit, lightly pulling on your arm trying to get you back down the stairs to get ready. 

“Plans?! Where are we going?” Quizzically as you trample down the stairs, Sana pulling you the entire way.

“It’s a surprise! Did you pack that one outfit I told you to?” as she pulls her suitcases into one of the rooms to get settled.

“Yes…should I put i-”

“Yes. Put it on and give me 30 minutes.” Closing the door quickly behind her, giving no time for arguments or rebuttals. 

Glancing at the clock, the time reading 6:33pm, you pull out the outfit requested by Sana and lay it flat on the bed. A bright red crop top, paired with black slacks, and a black blazer. It was a little dressier than what you would normally wear but it was her break up vacation and if she enjoyed you in this outfit, she’d get you in this outfit. 

—

Steam rises to the ceiling as you sing to yourself in the shower, washing the travel off of you to get a little more comfortable. You wonder how Sana is doing. It’s only been about 10 minutes since you parted but knowing she was going through a tough time, you couldn’t help but worry a little as she seemed very cheery since you arrived on the island. 

Recalling the first time you and her went stargazing together, it was a cool night in October when she called you unexpectedly. Missing her family immensely, reaching out to you for some comfort. 

Water rushing down your back as you live in the memory of Sana coming over to your apartment with that gloomy look living in her eyes. Dragging her to the patio and telling her to get into the hammock you had set up for yourself a few days prior, for this exact reason. 

Laying closely together, holding her as you asked her questions about her family, what they did for a living, about the special memories she had with them from her childhood. By the end of it she was smiling and giggling recalling them with you.

Silence fell between you as you both relaxed and looked up at the sky when you suddenly pointed up at the shimmering night, singling out a radiant sparkle in the blackness of the sky.

“That’s Venus…do you see those 3 stars in a row? That’s Orion’s belt!” enthusiastically talking about the stars and planets in the sky that you could see. She always loved listening to you speak so passionately about things you loved. 

That was the first night you almost kissed, sober, for the first time. Sana had gotten up to use the bathroom and fell back into the hammock face first, always so clumsy, and was merely a half an inch from your face. 

Feeling the heat of her breath on your skin burnt you as the moment tensed, bones stiffening in the face of your best friend. Pull like magnets in your chests as you inched closer before she forced herself away from you, throwing her hands over her mouth, muttering an apology and basically running inside.

Leaving you to remember the way your chest fell into itself and the ache of wanting to feel her lips on yours. That’s the only time you were almost able to do what no one ever could, get Sana to make the first move. 

Always against it with everyone else, she doesn’t chase. If you want her, show her otherwise you’ll get locked into the friend zone, never to be seen in a romantic light again. A familiar sadness creeped into your stomach. Not chasing her was hard for you, but you were so paranoid about ruining the friendship that you just couldn’t bring yourself to play the game.

A sigh relieves some of the compression in your chest as you dry your hair, hoping this would be the night that you finally got over yourself enough to tell her how you felt about her. It was intimidating to think about, considering you still had a week on this island with her and what if it isn't reciprocated?

Slipping into the outfit laid out on the bed, adjusting it accordingly and stepping into the living room noting that Sana wasn’t out of her room yet, of course. Late to everything, as always.

Placing yourself on the couch and peering at the clock, 6:59pm, patiently waiting for her to emerge and deciding to get a little more comfortable, you laid down and scrolled through your phone, eyes getting heavier as the minutes passed until you finally dozed off. 

—

The door opens lightly and Sana steps out in a long black sleeveless dress, cinched at the waist to show off her figure and a slit all the way up to her upper thigh. Hair tied up in a sophisticated bun and make-up flawless, finally ready to go. 

Hands placed on her hips, shifting her weight to one leg when she sees you asleep on the couch, letting out an eye roll and a small giggle that stirs you awake. 

“Good morning, sleepy head!” shouted at you in a volume you weren’t anticipating. Eyes widening as you take in your surroundings and re-calibrate from the deep sleep you found yourself in moments prior.

Eyes shifting over Sana, your breath is pulled from your body. Blood running blue as all hints of oxygen drained from your lungs, sucked into a vortex of pure bliss as you felt the weight of the love you had for the human in front of you, who was effervescently shining brightly in front of you. 

“Sana,” sleepily escapes your lip, awe breaking through the grogginess of your voice, “You look stunning…wow.” If she was drenched in diamonds the delicacy that was her elegance would refract the same amount of light, glowing with the embodiment of pure love that she willingly gave to those who she felt were worthy.  

Staring without care and mouth hanging open, you couldn’t help but gawk at her. A moth to a flame, eyes glued to her figure. Absolutely trapped in your skin as your body temperature rises, flushing your skin a lovely shade of pink. 

“I could say the same to you…” looking you up and down before batting her eyes at you. Watching you stand, completely engrossed as you stretch again, bones rattling under the stiffness of the slumber you found on the couch. 

Neither of you can take your eyes off each other when heading for the door. The closeness causes a slight tension between the two of you, fingers tingling from nervousness at the close proximity, breathing becomes a little more difficult. 

This was going to be a long night.

—

Arriving at your reservation at the local fancy restaurant, you were unable to focus on anything but Sana. Following every refined movement, from sitting in the chair you pulled out for her, to looking at the menu. You were in the clouds, heart eyes evident, completely oblivious to what was happening around you. 

“Do you know what you’re going to order?” questioned without removing her eyes from the wine menu, tabbing through the selections and settling on the sweetest bottle of rosé she could find. 

“Uh…nope, actually. I was distracted.” dropping your head in shame as you quickly find the entrees, picking the ribeye and closing the menu quickly. Eyes back to Sana but she’s already peering at you making eye contact that blinds you, forcing you to look away from her and noticing the emptiness of the restaurant.

The waiter approaches the table and introduces himself, letting you know what the house specials were before asking about what drinks you were interested in for the evening. This prompts Sana to order the wine she was looking at on the menu. 

“We will take this bottle, please” Sana says pointing at the page, hearing the drag of her finger on the thick paper as she underlines the name with her nail. 

“Oh, before you go, why is it so empty in here? During the summer I would assume it would be busier.” Politely asking, I guess she noticed too. 

“It’s the stormy season so most people wait until right before fall to visit.” smiling and leaning to get the bottle of wine for the two of you. 

“…storms?” whispered from the woman made of living porcelain, showing a crack that misted fear onto her perfect complexion. 

The waiter comes back over, shows both of you the bottle before slicing the foil and uncorking it, pouring Sana a little for a taste test. She swirls the glass lightly and takes a sip before letting out a satisfied hum. The waiter takes the go ahead and fills her glass, doing the same for you moments later and leaving quickly. 

“Thanks for agreeing to come with me on this trip, I’m feeling much better already.” An energy emitting off of her that was abnormal. Was Sana being shy? Sana? Shy? How bizarre. 

“You know I’d do anything to make you feel better.” confidently said back in a tone that was a little flirtier than normal. Allowing the boldness to flow before you could stop yourself. Sighing as if you are ashamed, your arms swing to cover your chest and legs crossed trying to escape the awkwardness.

Sana notices and smirks, “I know you would. I'd do the same for you. I think that’s why our friendship has been so great!” raising her glass to you before she sips it lightly, you do the same back, offering it as a cheer but it was really a muffled cry. 

The smile she lets out as she finishes her sentence was an insult to the injury. The word friend branding your chest and the smile the salt rubbed mercilessly into the wound, stinging a little more than normal tonight considering the way she was looking at you earlier.

Growing somber as the night continues on, throughout the meal and through the ride home you barely said anything, not that Sana minded. Your company was enough but it was weighing on her that you were seemingly bothered by something she couldn’t see. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/n? You seem off since dinner…” worried as she swipes the card to open your hotel door, launching it forward to let you in first. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I think I’m just tired is all.” a melancholic response from you as you head into your room and close the door lightly behind you before she could ask you anything else. 

Sana stands in the living room by herself in silence, saddened by something she didn’t really understand. Holding her own hands as she gazes down at the floor biting the inside of her cheek, wishing she had the guts to follow you. 

Rain splashing on the windows lightly and a small rumble in the distance, winds howling pushing and pulling the building as it creaks under the force, reminding her of what the waiter said at the restaurant. Stormy season.

“Great.” rolling her eyes at the idea of being in an unfamiliar place and having to deal with the sound of thunder and the flashes of lightning. A fear she’s had since she was a child, alive and well in her 20s that you usually helped her through, but you were upset and she wanted to give you space if you needed it. 

“If y/n can face her fear of flying, then I can face this.” Hastily going into her room, changing into something more comfortable and curling up in the bed, scrolling on her phone as the storm rolled in, tapping on the window a sign of the loud clashes that were going to sing through the sky as anytime now. 

—

Closing the door behind you lightly and plopping onto the bed, you run your hands over your face roughly and deeply inhale, followed by an exhale of equal size as you try to shake off the feeling of dread. 

“Friendship” the word locked between your ears, spiraling and echoing through your memories of all the times you thought there was something between you and Sana. 

Sadness wells up in your throat, choking on the indirect rejection slushing through your brain as the rain falls outside. Thunder rolling in the distance, Sana was going to text you when it got bad you already knew. 

Sighing heavily as you stripped off her favorite outfit of yours, throwing it carelessly out of your sights. Reaching for a pair of cozy black sweatpants and a black wife pleaser tank top. 

Not even bothering to remove the comforter off the sheets, you lay face first into the pillow and sigh heavily trying to release the build up of grief you had been carrying for some time, without alerting Sana. 

Dizzy in a sense, hopelessness washed over you when your phone vibrated about 45 minutes later with a text from Sana. 

Satang<3: are you awake? 

Satang<3: this thunder is kinda scary…

A playful grin lay across your face and you start typing but a knock interrupts the attempt.

 Adrenaline flushes your system as you stand and pull the door open, revealing Sana, wearing an oversized t-shirt that covered whatever bottoms she could have on. Anxiety brewed within her about the commotion outside, jumping closer to you as the thunder clapped loudly against itself. 

“Can I stay with you tonight?” breathed to you through chattering teeth, eyes wide and pouty as she tried to convince you, not that you needed it. 

Visibly shaken up, she takes a big step forward towards you. Your arms immediately open for her out of habit. Half holding, half guiding her to the right side of the bed and allowing her to crawl in between the silky sheets first. 

Taking your place next to her, you click the TV on and find a channel with a random sitcom on to drown out the noise of the clattering outside, hoping Sana could focus on something other than the storm. 

“Maybe we could go to the beach tomorrow?” said unexpectedly through the sound of the laugh track playing loudly, covering the static of the 

“But you hate the beach.” in awe at what you were suggesting to her.

“But you love the beach.” retorted sarcastically with a grin.

Beaming at you as she playfully smacks your arm, leaving her hand carefully placed on your bicep, a form of physical touch, her love language. She squeezed it tightly as the thunder rolled, creeping closer with every minute. 

Her eyes are recklessly running around the room as the lightning illuminates the sky, droplets pounding on the roof in intense waves as the storm thrashes into the night, leaving you to care for your favorite person. 

 You left your arm up and over her shoulder, pulling her closer to you. She is quick to koala herself around you with her head on your chest, listening to your racing heart, and half smiling as she falls asleep in the safety of your warmth.

—

Waking up to the sound of Sana’s sleep heavy breaths was something you always looked forward to when you found yourself sharing a bed. She was so at peace and calm, it was hard to ignore how exquisitely perfect she was. 

Laying with her face in your neck, her closed eyes softened as her brows furrowed in her sleep, small squeaks leaving her lips, followed by a groan muffled by you, sent your body into system overload. What could she possibly be dreaming about that would cause such a sound to leave her perfectly pink lips? 

Her hand slides up your torso gently, her breath hitching as her fingertips smooth over your ribs, bone by bone. Heartbeat visible in your chest as she rolls onto her back and audibly moans your name.

The way it rolls off her tongue makes you instantly insatiable, clenching your thighs together tightly for some form of relief and trying not to assume what she was dreaming about. The way her hips were rocking was enough for you to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, not assuming but knowing that she was having a wet dream about you.

Sneakily stepping out of the bed and turning to see her lazily thrusting her hips in her sleep and continuing to whimper sparked something in you that was indescribable. Unable to shift your eyes away from Sana as she continued on, wonder if this was a common occurrence for her.

Stepping into the bathroom to try and remember how to breathe, you hold yourself up on the sink and turn the cold water on, splashing it in your face a few times to bring you back down to earth. Was she really thinking about you that way? Was it just a one time thing? It’s not like you could just ask her, that would be weird. 

“Y/n?” breaks your train of thought causing you to freeze instantaneously. Statued by the sink, wondering if she remembers what she was just moaning over. You were sure to never forget it. 

“I’m in the bathroom…I’ll be out in a second.”

Hearing her stretch from the other room, you quickly change into your bathing suit, a simple black 2 piece, and walk back into the bedroom.

Sana was still half asleep until she saw you in that swimsuit in front of her, you had been working out and it was showing. Abs toned, arms on the more muscular side; she silently swooned seeing you in this light. 

  “Do you still want to go to the beach today?” sitting on the bed next to her trying to address her directly but she won’t look you in the eyes. 

“Yeah, I guess. Let me change.” calmly leaving her mouth as she gets up and walks out of the room silently and completely shutting you out of whatever she was feeling. 

Now perplexed at what was happening, you stare at the door she just left through in complete disbelief. She was always so cheery in the morning and to see her not shining, caused a little bit of worry in you. 

Following her out into the living room, only for her to shut the door behind her. A sigh ringing through the air after the door closes, you try to brush it off by going to put together your beach bag. Silently gathering towels for the two of you, bringing a few water bottles and snacks and wishfully hoping you’d be able to help her get out of her head today. 

–

The calmness of the waves washes over the shore, creating a relaxing white noise as you and Sana lay in the lounge chairs, enjoying the stillness of the environment and being able to relax in peace.

Margaritas were the drink of choice today, it was 11am and you were already on your third one. Sana just kept ordering them for the both of you and you were on vacation. Who’s to say you can’t let a little lose and get a little drunk with your best friend?

Sana’s demeanor was still off, but she had more of a bounce in her step after an hour or two. The margaritas slowly revived her affectionate personality that she hid away that morning. 

Back to smacking your arm playfully and smiling back at you with everything you said when she suddenly stands and runs right to the ocean, waves putting up a weak fight pulling her in as she turns around and eggs you on in joining her.

“Come on! The water’s not that cold!” Yelled at you from feet away as you made your way to her. She was a liar, the water was freezing cold on your legs as you scooched closer to her in the water finally making it to the waist deep water Sana was at. 

“So c-cold!” escapes your lips as you try to get used to the frigid waters coating your body when a splash causes a loud gasp to leave your mouth followed by a small giggle from Sana. 

Gawking at her while she laughs at your reaction, you jump over to her and grab her by the waist, playfully wrestling with her in the water. Being sure to handle her with care as you tangle, she drapes her arms around your neck, clinging to you tightly. Her legs soon follow, wrapping themselves around your torso so she’s flush against you, slyly smirking centimeters from your face. 

“Awh, have I made you upset?” oozing seductively from her lips as she slides her arms down your back to toy with the knot holding your top to your chest. 

“You wouldn’t.” challenging the threat she was intimidating you with, drunkenly. 

“Oh but I would.” squinting her eyes at you while she tugged lightly allowing the knot to loosen slightly.

Unmoving as you let her pull the strings, her face so close you can see the mischievous glint in her eyes and smirk elongating as she leans into you further, connecting your lips as one of her hands shimmies up to the back of your neck, continuing to lay soft sweet kisses on your face, making her way to your neck for a light bite. Attempting to repress all the noises your lungs wish to release as your legs clench together. 

“You like this, don’t you? I bet you’ve thought about this before, hm?” whispered into your ear as she felt you tensing underneath her. Teeth tug on your lobes lightly as the question burns in your ears like a form of torture, snapping you back to the reality you were in. 

Sana was drunk, heartbroken, and leaning into you for validation…that’s the only way this could actually be happening right?

“Sana...we can’t do this.” hesitantly stated as she cups your face lovingly, you can’t help but rest your head there affectionately. 

“But…why not?” woefully questioned as she rests her chin on your shoulder, re-tying the knot to secure the top covering you, immediately respecting what you were saying and not crossing the boundary. 

“Because we’ve both had too much to drink and I don’t want it to happen thi-…” unaware of a larger wave coming to crash down on you mid sentence, completely drenching both of you from head to toe. 

Chuckling out of surprise, you look over to find the scowl Sana seared into her visage. Her eyes are bright red, breath stuttering as she sniffles.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” scanning the visible parts of her body for any hint as to why she would be so upset.

“I’m fine, y/n. A lot of salt water in my eyes and I'm just ready to go.” getting out of the water and making her way over to where you had set yourselves up for the morning. 

“You want to leave so quickly?” completely confused by her as she gathered everything silently. Making the choice to let her stew in whatever she was feeling, unsure of how to proceed with this but wanting to improve the sudden change in mood, wrapping yourself in your towel and following her back to the hotel. 

–

It was barely 1pm by the time you got back to the room, surprised that she only wanted to spend a few hours in the sun. Asking her multiple times if she was okay on the way back but she only gave one worded replies that didn’t give you any context to why she was turning within herself and away from you.

Setting all her stuff down by the door before walking straight into her room, not closing the door behind her, taking that as an invitation, you followed her like a lost puppy to the threshold. Sana turns around and halfway glares at you as she starts to try to untie the knot at the base of her neck.

“Can I help you, Y/n?” with a tone that harshly fragmented your heart. Never having spoken to you this way, you were taken aback completely, wondering if the alcohol had something to do with the overwhelming sense of unwelcomeness that creeped into the space, darkening the overall mood and instigating fight, flight or freeze within you.

“Oh…” mournfully uttered as you stepped out of the room that was clouded by whatever seeped from Sana’s consciousness, what could you have done to generate such an irritated response from her? Swiftly marching to the room you both spent the night in, footsteps can be heard swiftly trying to catch up to you.

“Y/n, wait!” as you close and lock the door behind you.

Immediately stripping out of the swimsuit when you heard the door rattle slightly, as the person on the other side of it rested their forehead against it. Hearing the sniffles produced from Sana as you force yourself to not offer comfort to the woman who had just snapped at you for a reason you weren’t aware of. 

–

The clock reads 9:53pm as you lay in the conversation pit under the skylight. Last night might’ve been stormy but tonight was perfect for stargazing and that’s exactly what you planned to do, with or without your best friend.

Laying by yourself and staring straight into the sky, admiring the randomness that was the star's patterns, connecting dots as you see the constellations play out in front of you. God, this sucks alone. Missing Sana at every passing moment.

Was she just drunk earlier or were her actions real? Sana had always flirted with you in her intoxicated states but it had never felt as intense as the moment in the water today. Remembering the taste of her sweet lips in the salty air, you craved them constantly, but was it romantic or was it just a drunken moment she was having? 

She did just go through a breakup and the alcohol wasn’t exactly something that made emotions easier to deal with. Maybe she was trying to seek comfort in you, as messed up as that is to say. Maybe she knew you cared for her romantically and she wanted to push the limits and see how much you really wanted her?

The rattling of the metal staircase pulls you out of the toxic trance you were in, not bothering to look up as you picked a star to fixate on instead of looking at Sana who was standing in the doorway.

“May I come in?” a delicate smile can be heard in her words as she asked where your boundary was. That was more like her. Instead of a verbal response, you simply patted the cushioning next to you without looking at her, summoning her over to you. 

Gracefully sauntering over and laying down next to you, she let out a long sigh almost relaxing into the atmosphere as she looked over at your face. You could feel her eyes burning a hole into your cheeks but refused to look away from the skylight. 

Her hand finds its way to your stomach as she lays on her side, snuggling you with her head on your shoulder. Your heart picks up again, even with not wanting to have the conversation that needed to be had, she still made you feel like pure bliss. 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you…I just thought-” cutting herself off, swallowing nervously as she starts to quietly weep into your neck.

Shutting your eyes tightly, you try to hold in the emotions that seemed to be brimming out of both of you rapidly. Your fingers lightly trace her back as her quiet sobs drip from your skin.

“Sana, it’s okay. We weren’t sober, I know you didn-” 

“I just thought you felt the same way.” slicing through the air like a knife, chopping your sentence in half. 

Heart pulsing in your ears as you grow red, feeling your heart pumping forcefully as you try to wrap your mind around what she just uttered. You’re completely immobile as you remember all the small moments that could be seen as romantic. Candle lit dinners, the days spent on the couch, the physical touch that was constant between the two of you…has she always liked you this way? Or were you misunderstanding what she was saying?

“What do you mean by that, Sana?” carefully asking the question that charred the tip of your tongue, leaving the build up of fiery love inside of you, knowing this would alter the state of your friendship forever and possibly change the trajectory of your life. 

Sitting up promptly, to ensure you can hear and see her completely, pulling you up with her.

“Y/n” a sigh breaks the sentence as she braces for what’s to come “…I love you.” 

Patiently waiting for the realization of what she’s saying to roll over your face, she continues. 

“I tried dating other people to get over you because I was worried that if I told you, you wouldn’t feel the same way and it would come between us or that it would end badly. And everyone I dated was nothing compared to you, and just made me want to be with you more…you treat me so well that it puts everyone else to shame,” looking down at the floor and toying with a string sticking out of the cushions that covered the floor. 

“And when we were at the beach, I saw the way you looked at me and the alcohol encouraged me to make a move, and you know I never do that but…I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I swear. I misread the signs I thought you were giving me and -sniff-” continuing on to try to over explain her actions but you were in a complete state of euphoria.

Floating on cloud nine as Sana makes her plea for you to stick around, you reach out around her waist and hoist her into your lap, one leg on either side of your waist. 

Hand raising up to cup her surprised face as you lean into her without a second thought, lips passionately connecting as you show her what you always wanted to say out loud. 

Passionately tangled in a heated make out session, you remove her shirt quickly and trail light kisses down her exposed neck to her collarbone, her hand clenching your hair as she whimpers softly under your curious touch. 

“Y/n, I need you” breathed into your mouth as you effortlessly shift positions so you are on top of her, removing your shirt hastily not wanting the fabric to be between the touch of you and her velour skin. 

Grasping at your pants, trying to remove them quickly she nervously fidgets with the button and you let her panic for a second, enjoying the neediness radiating from her brow, as her half lidded eyes fill with frustration. 

Giggling as you look down at her, she halfway glares at you with a smile. Playfulness of your friendship seeps into the moment and you both welcome it in a moment of unseriousness. 

Reaching down and undoing the button of your pants and hers quickly while smirking at her boldly, she rolls her eyes at the move and unzips your pants, sliding her outstretched hand into your underwear and through your wetness. 

“I can’t wait to taste you” sultry tone ringing in your ears as you allow yourself to succumb to Sana in a way you only dreamed about. 

Reaching up behind you to unclip your bra sneakily before she rolled you over so you were on your back, fingers still circling your clit through the movement, causing a few slight gasps and light moans out of you. 

She removes her hand and discards your pants and panties to leave you completely naked. Squirming underneath her as you watch her remove the rest of her clothing, anticipation high as she kisses down your neck leaving small bites and a trail of marks down your chest. 

Taking her time descending your body and learning every place her touch will drive you mad, she hovers over your pussy and smiles up at you. 

“You know once we do this…there’s no going back, right?” waiting for permission from you to continue on. Even with how eager she was, she wanted to make sure that you knew this was an act of you committing to each other.

“Sana, please…” breathed into the night as your hands covered your face, the want palpable in the air as you tried to scoot closer to her mouth.

“Please what?” tracing her fingers between your hip bones and down your hips to your inner thighs.

The whine you release is guttural,  full of the desire that’s been burning for her for what felt like centuries. Moving your hands from your face, through her hair gripping it heavily as you moan the words she’s been waiting to hear. 

“Sana, please fuck me, I need you.” sighing heavily as she kisses your inner thigh while you beg for her to touch you.

“Good girl” mumbled into your thigh as she parts your lips and finally tastes your slick. Leaving nothing for imagination as she explores your folds. 

Her hands reach up to play with your hardened buds as she devours you. Latching onto your clit and circling it lightly with her tongue, moaning into your core as she sucks. 

Writhing underneath her while she feasts on your desire, directing her head where you want it by her hair as you groan her name senselessly. 

Bliss dripping off you, as you fixate on what she looks like between your legs. The eye contact has you spiraling into a void of pure lust as you start to buck your hips into her mouth, slowly grinding against her lips. 

Feeling her smile into you as finger dancing on the edge of your entrance, seeking permission to fill you the way you always dreamed she would. Not allowing her to thrust into you, but instead you force your hips down into to fuck yourself on her fingers while you still have enough thoughts in your head to do so.

Half laughing at you while you continue to buck your hips into her, moaning uncontrollably as you feel your stomach tighten. 

“You must have been dreaming of this for years…I never knew you wanted this so badly, baby. I’ll show you how it’s supposed to feel” taunting you between the damp sounds coming from your core.

Curling her fingers through your wetness to hit your g-spot perfectly as she lets you control the pace and tempo at which her fingers press it, mouth not letting go of your clit as you fuck yourself against her. 

“I’m -fuck right there- gonna cum.” shakily exhaled between grunts as groans as she starts to pump her fingers inside of you, hips faltering as she does, relentlessly sucking and swirling her tongue on your swollen pussy as you gush into her mouth, screaming her name. 

A light sheen of sweat coating your skin as she lets you ride out your orgasm on her fingers before pulling them out of you slowly, leaving you gasping for more. Making eye contact with you as she licks her digits clean, smiling in almost a predatory way as she comes up to kiss you passionately. 

Tasting yourself on her caused your hips to start rutting against her again, grinding on the memory of her between your legs as you try to maneuver your hands between hers when she swats it away. 

“I’ve waited too long for this, for you…and I’m not finished, my love.” sinking her teeth into your neck roughly before finding herself back where she was about to force another orgasm out of you. 

This was going to be a long night, only hoping for more passionate nights under the stars with your love, Minatozaki Sana.

[bijouxcarys]

The High Life (Robert Plant x fem!OC)

Masterlist

Summary: Set in 1979, our unnamed fem!OC, a star in her own right, spends one night out of many with an 8-year-long fling she hasn't seen in a long time, the Golden God himself. NSFW/18+, minors DNI

Smut prompts: #1 "Feel this? It's just for you." and #2 "Let's ruin ourselves for anyone else."

Word count: 2.9k

Note: This went in a fluffy direction I wasn't expecting it to, but I kinda love this one. Might be one of my favourites thus far.

Tags: @celestial-dragoness @whothefuckisanja @strsmn @chromations @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @firethatgrewsolow @angrychicksposts @m-faithfull @callmethehunter (if you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know!)

They met on a rainy day in Scotland. Kindred spirits of the most beautiful kind. Living to create, creating to live. If fate had been kinder, She would have crossed their paths sooner. But the fleeting moments in which they did stumble upon one another were enough in the midst of the chaos some would call the high life.

Both knew of the incessant fawning from a crowd of dedicated supporters, following their every move, no matter where they went. Both had long forgotten how many they had spent a night with on the lonely road. And both knew they could have any one of those flustered, breathless beauties formed in a compacted huddle outside that hotel in Glasgow.

Robert enjoyed her carefree nature, something she’d only nurtured into a heady personality since he met her at 19. Though 8 years had passed, and their meetings were few and far between, it felt like a lifetime of back and forth pining for a childhood friend. And here they were, darting into the hotel lobby together after having encountered more than passionate fans and hoards of paparazzi.

They were giggling like teenagers, hand in hand, as they found the nearest available lift, practically sliding into it.

“Press it, press it, press it!” she squealed, pushing Robert to select his floor as quickly as possible. 

“I am!” He rapidly pressed the button to the 5th floor. She had a grip on his shirt, impatiently waiting for the elevator door to slide shut so she could pull him into her, instantly connecting her lips with his. 

His hands flew up to her face, taking it between his palms to hold her in place as he kissed her back. It was the exact same position they had been caught in that triggered their cat and mouse chase from a few streets away.

“That was your fault,” she mumbled against his lips. 

“Was it?” He smirked, playfully nipping at her ear and encircling his arms around her. Pulling her flush against him allowed her to catch the hardness forming under his jeans, though it was an easy few layers of clothing deep. 

“Yeah, it was,” she breathed in his sandalwood scent. “It was your idea to stop at that off-licence for a pack of fags.”

“You didn’t seem to protest too much, darlin��…” Her knees weakened when Robert began his expert teasing along the side of her neck, lips gentle yet determined. Tip of his tongue tickling her skin. “Much like right now.” He chuckled, a little smugly, as she involuntarily lifted her leg to graze his bulge with her thigh.

“I didn’t think there’d be that many people, Robert—“

“Of course there would be, everyone was in town to see you perform tonight,” he pointed out, pulling his head back enough to look at her lovesick face. Pretty eyes beaming up at him, cheeks flushed from their exertion… 

She’s gonna look even better laid over my bed,

hair splayed around her head, 

whole body glowing a gentle red. 

Damn it, she even had him thinking in rhyme.

“And to think, out of all those people, you still want little old me…” he let out in a somewhat dramatic sigh. He already knew she was his. No matter how many admirers packed themselves into an arena to see her, it was a done deal if Robert was there. 

The same could be said for him. Whilst the past couple of years had slammed the brakes on his ventures, and subsequently the amount of gigs Zeppelin did, whenever she was around… he was done for.

“I’d be an idiot not to,” she whispered, feeling the lift come to a stop with a jarring shake. 

They were off. Like a couple of hyperactive greyhounds, they darted down the hall to Robert’s room, and soon enough, they were closed off to the rest of the world.

“Anyway, whose idea was it to abandon the car and leg it over here?” Robert continued the conversation, shrugging his jacket off and kicking off his shoes. She followed his actions, smirking at him.

“I believe that one was my idea—you try getting through that crowd just to get in a fucking car that doesn’t belong to you!”

He shot her a toothy grin at her energy, despite having run around a stage for two hours. Seating himself on the bed, he beckoned for her to join him, pulling her by her waist onto his lap.

“At least we’re here now,” he hummed up at her, nuzzling his nose into the low neckline of her blouse. He could feel it as her heartbeat picked up and her legs squeezed around his hips. “Just the two of us…” He pressed a heated kiss on her chest, before tugging at a button with his teeth. “You’ve got too many clothes on, luv.”

Biting gently at her bottom lip, she brought a hand up to slowly pop open the first button that was fastened, having neglected the top two after her show. Robert caught a glimpse of the lacey bra, the delicate material peeking over. His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, wishing he could claw his way through her jeans with his nails.

“You’re a tease, my love,” he sighed, eyes glued to any expanse of exposed skin in his sights. She was a goddess. An otherworldly beauty of nature. Nobody could blame him for forgetting the existence of every other woman out there, when she was in front of him. She was everything he wanted, and as time passed, he became all the more sure that she was everything he needed.

“Do you want me to speed this up?” she asked him softly, breaking him from his moment of disconnect. Always so willing to please… she’s perfect.

Shaking his head, he pulled her as close to him as he could. “No… just…” he paused, a certain vulnerability in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. He drank in the depths of her gentle expression. “…just stay there for a bit longer… please,” he whispered.

There was nothing off-putting about his demeanour. In fact, it was all the more alluring to her. Each time she saw Robert marked another layer of the Golden God persona shedding. This time seemed to unveil a man straddling the line between clinging to the past, and cannonballing into the future.

She liked it.

Giving him a warm smile, she nodded down at him, leaning forward to nestle her lips into the fair locks that curled and twisted over his forehead.

Robert held her there for a while, completely glueing himself to her body. Even through all the layers of clothing, he’d never felt closer to her, or anyone for that matter. His hands continued to caress her sweet curves, occasionally pulling her hips down to feel him beneath her. He revelled in the shaky sighs that fell from her lips, the knowledge of it being for him empowering each movement he made.

Eventually, the steady embrace became too heated to prolong. She had naturally begun a rocking motion, back and forth, with her hips, providing both of them with minimal, much-needed, friction. He finally peered up at her, eyes blown out with lust, admiration… hitting all the correct emotional buttons to trigger her yearning.

Then, he drew her in closer, simultaneously grinding his hips upwards and keeping them pressed together. She gasped through parted lips, eyelids hooding.

“You feel that, baby?” he asked in a hushed tone. “It’s just for you…” he proclaimed very earnestly, watching as her eyes widened ever so slightly. With a desperate sigh, he grabbed the back of her head to close the gap of heavy air between them, crashing his lips to hers in a searing, sensual kiss.

Smiling against his lips, her hands buried themselves into his windswept hair, curls intertwining with her fingers. She fell, hard, into his embrace, surrendering herself entirely—body and soul—to his being.

Robert took his time, delicately undressing her as if she were an invaluable gift sent from Heaven itself. He pressed kisses along every inch of her skin, worshipping the body Mother Nature had bestowed upon her. She’d never seen him like this, and it was a much welcomed switch up from the hormonal fucking they were so accustomed to by now.

He worked the pink nubs on her chest to a stiffened peak through hearty caresses with his tongue, lips, fingers, teeth… Her skin was almost completely covered in goosebumps at the care he took. It was like he treated every ministration with his tongue as a predecessor, a preview, for what it could do in other places. His bright blue eyes staring up at her as his tongue circled around her nipples, he silently demonstrated the movements replicated on her swollen pearl moments later.

Just like in his premonition, he had her stretched out over the bed, body in a state of desire—writhing as he feasted on her weeping nectar below. Every mewl, whimper, and gasp fuelled the fire of his longing.

No fingers were needed; he reserved them for groping at her chest, holding onto her hand, and running them up and down the plush thighs bracketing his head. He worked her up to an ardent release, her hips grinding up into his face as she pulsated against his talented tongue.

Now, he was over her, his broad, naked frame shielding her from everything around them as he gave her an intimate taste of her own honey.

“I hope you realise you’ve ruined me for everyone else…” she exhaled. He looked over her flustered face, the small amount of mascara she had on transferred under her eyes. She’d never looked more beautiful to him. And to hear this woman, out of anyone, proclaim something so profound to him sent him over the edge. It was that moment in which he realised… 

Once in a blue moon is nowhere near enough time to love you the way I want to.

“Well…” he started with a jesting tut, “let’s ruin ourselves for anyone else, then, my temptress.” He let out a breathy chuckle, moving to lay back against the fluffed pillows. Once again, he beckoned her over, offering up his lap, where his rigid, desperate cock layed prominent against his stomach. 

Once she was over him, straddling him in her warmth, he dragged his tip along her waiting folds, collecting her juices, the result of his hunger for her. She found herself glad he hadn’t used his fingers on her earlier; she always loved feeling the effects of his size, the slight sting of the stretch he provided. She loved his lasting impact on her, being able to feel it for up to a week after. It was her way of remembering their encounter, at least for a little while.

He hungrily eyed her body, focusing on the way her cunt soaked the head of his cock as he held onto her leg. With a steel gaze, locked with hers, he finally pushed himself upwards, sliding into her deliciously. They both let out heavy gasps, their union more intense than they had anticipated. “C’mere…”

She obliged, needily resting above him, his arms moving to wrap around her as he brought her in for another kiss. Using his heels for leverage, he made a steady thrust upwards, burying himself as deep as he could. He groaned against her lips, swirling his tongue around hers before breaking it to inhale deeply.

“I don’t know how I manage without feeling you wrapped around me.” Another thrust. “You’re the most perfect…fuck…woman on the planet,” he groaned.

An airy whimper tickled his lips, and she furrowed her brows as she took the pace he set, his cock sliding along her convulsing walls. The hand that splayed across his chest was the only thing stopping her from completely collapsing over him. “Oh, fuck… Robert…” 

He’d never get over the way she moaned his name, from within the depths of her soul, with so much fiery devotion. The way she arched and rippled over him, taking every inch of his cock, whining and whimpering just for him… it unleashed an unbridled energy. Every. Time.

“Lean back a little, baby…” 

Doing as instructed, she sat up and angled backwards, one of her hands resting on his leg behind her to steady herself. With her upper half leaned back, Robert took a hold of her hips and pulled them forward as he picked up the pace.

“Fuck!” she gasped, followed by an elongated moan when his cock reached so deep within that it kissed the spongy surface of her cervix.

“Doesn’t that feel so good, darlin’?” he rhetorically asked with a knowing smirk. “Can you feel how deep I am?”

One thing she could never have enough of was Robert’s pillow talk. His silky voice, the accent that had ingrained itself into her mind. It sent something fierce through her veins and snapped her into overdrive more often than not.

“Here,” Robert took her free hand, fingers wrapping around her wrist easily, and placed it on her lower abdomen, close to her mound. “Press down…” he softly instructed before resuming his harsh thrusts, grinding all the way up. He watched her face, waiting for the moment. A proud smile spread across his lips when her eyes widened. She snapped her head up at him with a look of disbelief.

“Bloody hell…” she sighed, daring to press down a little harder. And sure enough, very lightly, she could feel the movements of his cock deep within her. There was something so beautiful about feeling his thrusts from an external source, and it strangely made her feel even closer to him. Connected.

They spent a good while in this position, having quickly resorted to allowing her to ride him to her heart’s content. Hands on his chest, back arched, as she ground and bounced on his red-hot length. He loved seeing her like this. Wild. Free. In the rawest human form.

“So fuckin’ beautiful…” Robert panted and grunted each time she collided with him, the lewd slapping sound resonating throughout the room. Fingers gripping into her hips as hard as they were, she was convinced there’d be lasting marks—the thought made her groan under her breath. 

Eventually, watching her on top of him drove him over the edge. He had to have her. With unprecedented force, he flipped them over and took her his way, hands on either side of her head. 

“Bit impatient, love,” she chided up at him with a bright smile, running her hands up his fluffy chest. He felt his stomach flip at her pearly grin, the endearing charm in her every expression bringing him to the highest levels of ecstasy possible. Smiling back at her, he breathed heavily through his nose, willing his hips to take them both to the finish line.

“Do you have any idea how pretty you are?” he huffed through his committed thrusts, bordering on slamming.

“I-I—mmm—I might have heard you say it a few times…”

“Well I’ll say it again… You,” thrust, “are,” thrust, “so,” thrust, “fucking,” thrust, “beautiful.”

Her moans reverberated in her chest each time his hips met hers, and she felt herself edging towards her release. Her chest rose up and down, her panting becoming more and more audible. The familiar flutters around his cock told him all he needed to know. Bringing one leg up to rest on his shoulder, he held onto her, putting every last ounce of his energy into making his lover come undone.

“Oh God… please… don’t stop, Robert,” she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulder.

“Oh, I won’t, baby,” he shook his head, blowing some of his own hair out of his eyes. “Come on, angel,” he urged, pressing a gentle kiss to her ankle to counteract the pressure between her hips. “I need to feel it… need to feel you cum for me…”

She was so close. Just a little more…

“Don’t close your eyes,” he held onto the side of her face with his free hand. “Need those pretty eyes on me…”

She gazed up at him longingly, biting harshly at her bottom lip as he drove her home, sweat-sheened skin glowing from above. “R-Robert… fuck, I’m…” She couldn’t even force the words out before she was thrown off the edge of her coital cliff, back arching painfully as she clenched around his cock.

“Good girl… good fucking girl, shit,” he whined, mouth dropping open at how tightly she clung to him, inside and out. “Almost there, darlin’… your cunt always makes me feel so fuckin’ good…”

Breathlessly, attempting to recover from her high with Robert still relentlessly grinding into her, she stared up at him with teary eyes. She shakily held onto the side of his face, leaving him no other option than to meet her gaze with intense eyes.

“Please, Robert.”

“Mmm…”

“Cum inside me,” she begged.

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up, baby?” he growled with clenched teeth.

“Yeah…” she answered with a nod.

“Ah, fuck!” he groaned loudly, thrusts staggering as he let out a string of expletives, deep grunts that spoke of ambitious roars, and a faint wail from the back of his throat. He pumped himself dry, unloading every bit of his release deep inside her, in his mind solidifying her as his.

With untamed whimpers, he laid his head beside hers, still inside her, hips gyrating as a final attempt to make sure he gave her everything he had—as much as he was allowed to give. 

Their skin seemed to meld together in its tackiness, but neither of them cared. If it was up to them, they’d be having this moment every single night. 

Alas, fate wasn’t as kind, and feelings were meant to be locked up—he’d go home to his wife, sharing special moments with her in the high life.

[lune-de-miel-au-paradis]

Pale as the moon, eyes full of stars and a broken heart

Summary: Meet my OC Nina Cerasus. In this chapter you can dive into her soul and feelings before her and Maul's story begins.

Pairing: Darth Maul x OC Nina Cerasus

Warnings: Mention of dealing with illness, anxiety, panic attack, trust issues, daddy issues, mourning, sadness. Long chapter with emotions.

next chapter

When life got too overwhelming she always lifted her pale green eyes up to the sky. The stars spread like freckles across the face of the dark sky. It always amazed her, especially on those occasions, when the air felt too dense and her lungs stubbornly refused to let air in or out, reassuring her that everything would be fine. The millions of shining lanterns up there helped her to lose herself for a while. She always thought about how small she was compared to them.

In these still moments of the night, the quietness and the cool air full of the scent of the blooming milla flowers and the sweetness of dreams let her find her own little peace. 

Her inner demons rested and she felt free. 

She had never exactly been able to express or articulate this feeling until she read somewhere that this was called astrophile. How poetic "the love for the celestial body".The kind of soothing comfort when someone is reading wrapped in a blanket on a rainy day or when a nervous person smokes a spicy cigarette.

But today it somehow wasn't enough. She was standing outside on top of the building that she would later call her home for a few years. Wearing a thin jacket with her pale arms around her. She had a defiant expression on her face, reflecting the sky in her teary eyes, as if they were a deep green lake. There were signs she should have known, or at least noticed. The paleness of her skin, the cold fingertips with which she always teased her grandmother.( On warmer days, she put them on the old woman's shoulders, which made her jump.) Sometimes she ran out of air maybe a little sooner than the others. But the most noticeable are those tiny, stabbing heart contractions, which she only herself called heart murmurs. She used to think that her body was just overreacting to certain situations when she was anxious or stressed. This was partially true, she wasn't so wrong after all.

After hearing the news, her feet brought her here, to this building, or rather to its roof. The view was wonderful. She had a perfect view of the huge park between the art and science universities and which connects them at the same time. If she turned to the right, she saw the crystal-domed building of the royal observatory, next to which stretched the royal library of Naboo. As if the dome is the head and the library full of knowledge is the strong neck that supports it. With greater knowledge, more artistic knowledge, the head rises higher and dares to dream bigger and more beautiful. The location was perfect. Compared to downtown, there was much less light pollution here, leaving the role of the sky to shine natural moonlight and starlight onto the park and buildings.

She wanted to feel lighter, but her thoughts darkened and she felt that despite the clear weather, the storm was approaching. An internal, all-changing and overwhelming storm.

She was seven years old when the first thunderstorm swept through her. In the morning, when she got up, the sky was still blue, but in the afternoon the clouds turned gray and condensed, in the evening the stormy wind rose and the gray clouds formed into storm clouds. It took her only months to see these dark times as a storm. Because she believed that if she lasted long enough, they would go away. She was still young, she did not experience many of these spiritual storms, but she still had more experience than her contemporaries.

The first happened unexpectedly at a very young age. It was soon followed by another, and another. It was the most powerful and the last one so far. The dark strong winds of each storm battered and crushed her soul. Only fragments of the foundations remained from the life of her; and after these had to be rebuilt. Brick by brick, it had to be a stronger, thicker wall to withstand the next one. Every time, a small piece of her soul got between the bricks. It wasn't completely a part of her anymore.

She suppressed and buried it, so if she wanted to relive emotions or memories, she had to tear them back from those walls.

She sighed and smiled bitterly. It seems that she managed to build these walls too thick. The Universe or the Force whatever you call it clearly has a sense of humor.

These walls extended beyond her soul straight into her heart muscles. Doctors say her heart is still pumping blood and oxygen. The heart valves close and open as they should, only everything is a little slower and a little more difficult due to the thickened muscular heart wall. Everything flows, but there is less inward, less air, less light, and the storm cloud penetrates even among the few.

The walls in heart are too thick.

It doesn't let the light in.

It keeps the storm inside.

Impenetrable.

So far she has received three gifts from her father. The first gift was life, half of which she owed to the man. The second is a kind of daddy issue mixed with fear of abandonment. And the third is a genetic mutation that medical science calls hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. (abbreviated HCM). He hid this gift from her even before she was born, only to discover it later on her own, completely unexpectedly. A twisted surprise that she never asked for, never looked for, and now that she has found it, she doesn't really know what to do with it.

She felt a mix of things, soft and hard. Things were compacting and expanding inside her. She took out her datapad from her bag. Opened the latest file on it. There were all medical findings, lab results, x-rays, CT scans and biopsies. She didn't even know what these words meant before, since she was just a ten year old, she guessed that they sounded serious and that they didn't mean anything good. If things have to be examined so many times and from many points of view, especially if it happens in a short time, it never means good. 

When she heard those three letters, she thought it was some kind of venereal disease. Something she got at Floran's slumber party during the spin the bottle game. She listened silently with an unflappable face as all the serious words of the doctor died away next to the sharp whistling sound she heard in her right ear.

She heard the words, but they didn't reach her brain, they didn't make sense. She was able to pick out a few louder words from them, "new tests" "very rare" "paternal inheritance" "important" "we'll see if we can help". She got up slowly when she got out of the building (leaving her grandmother with the doctor) and tried to lean on her knees. She tried to breathe deeply, but she just felt nauseous. The ringing in her ears got louder and louder, she started to run. It didn't matter where, just away from there. She didn't want to go to her favorite secret place because she only went there when good things happened to her.

She was standing on the roof before she realized it. The ringing signaled the approach of a storm, but it had never been so loud and sharp.

Everything is different this time. The storm will be more overwhelming than ever. This time it won't be enough to strengthen the walls or build more, thicker ones. Now she has to do a fucking rebuild, she has to redesign and build a completely new environment. This is new terrain. Terra incognita. There is no system or destination here. Maybe she didn't factor this into her life, it doesn't fit into her previous life, or anywhere else. It's fucking unfair and not perfect, but now she has to create something new with it. She felt a static energy of tension around her. She knows that her instinctive flight was cowardly, an unconscious scramble to avoid and delay the inevitable. She felt that she had disappointed both herself and grandma by her behavior. But she was also a little confused by the doctor, because there was no emotion or pity in his voice. He didn't even scold her like a dentist does for eating too many sweets. The lack of judgment was existential and shocking, making her dizzy. The storm is approaching, but there is no sign of it hitting yet. The ringing subsides a little, now her thoughts are louder. She makes a plan on how to proceed.

First of all, as soon as her mental storm subsides, she gets up to find grandma, apologizing for running away. Then the discussion with the doctor and the examinations can begin. Which cost money. She knows that although they are not poor and live comfortably, they will need more credit. The doctor said it was a rare disease. So rare, it affects only one in every five hundred people.

It's going to be expensive. In a few years, she will have to continue her studies at highschool and university. She has to choose a path that will allow her to pay back everything to grandma later. IF she's still alive. No! She shouldn't be thinking like that! She comes to a decision. She will fight. The wind gets stronger, cold raindrops start to soak her soul. The sky is clear and full of tiny specks of light, she focuses on them, then she closes her eyes. She knows that when the storm rages, she will open her eyes, although the starry sky remains unchanged. She herself will be completely renewed. The walls are built under perves on an unknown terrain. They build, spread and are stronger than ever before.

The girl who was, now gone. As she had never been before.

Taglist: @hellhound5925 @cloneloverrrrr @stardustbee @firstofficerwiggles @the-chains-are-the-easy-part

AN: pls message me if you want to be added to my list.

I know this was a bit blue and sad I promise my chapters will have lighter mood.

[curlyparmesan]

OC + Random Associations

tagged by @lesbianaloy, thanks for thinking of me <3

It's Flit, the half wood-elf thief! Specifically Flit as she has grown throughout her misadventures.

🗡 animal - Raven, but not in the gloomy sense, mostly as a hoarder of shiny trinkets and harbinger of death (ok, maybe a little gloomy)

🗡 colors - White and scarlet, avoids drab colors at all cost

🗡 month - October, when the greatest bounties of the land spring forth

🗡 songs - Pays Imaginaire by Polo & Pan, luckily she woke up from her dream with Shadowheart still by her side (runner up is for sure When I Die by Pepper Coyote, since everyone will remember her as a reluctant hero instead of the 'live fast die young' thief she really is)

🗡 number - 57877, the amount of gold she stole before reluctantly saving the world

🗡 plants - I immediately thought of a blackberry plant since they're so prickly, then I learned blackberry plants are part of the rose family and flower! She used to eat them growing up on the outskirts of Baldur's Gate

🗡 scents - honeysuckle and seedy taverns

🗡 gemstone - aquamarine (she's been wearing the caustic band ever since she found it, and refuses to take it off)

🗡 time of day - the afternoon, when everyone heads to the tavern

🗡 season - harvest season

🗡 places - tree houses, locked vaults, downtrodden taverns, aristocrat bedrooms (most of the time stealing things)

🗡 food - thick skinned grapes and Waterdhavian cheese shavings

🗡 drink - mead made from giant bees

🗡 element - air, she's so light on her feet, and strikes as fast as a hurricane

🗡 seasoning - sage and lemon (she always makes her iconic sour scrunch face, like all the time)

🗡 sky - dark storm clouds on the horizon

🗡 weather - the level of rainy that traps most people inside, but not her

🗡 magical power - will cross the room and stab you 3 times before you can blink, despite not using the weave

🗡 weapons - A rapier gifted to her by an old sea salt. Also known to use two daggers for maximum puncturing

🗡 sweets - muffins, especially with fruit and honey

🗡 method of travel - Barefoot 100%, it's the only method of travel where she feels like she's in control. She is quite fleet of foot afterall.

🗡 art style - Van Gogh sunflowers, not that she paints, but the vibrant yellow feels and big brushstrokes

🗡 fear - poverty ever since losing her parents

🗡 mythological creature - blue dragon, very tricksy and (hear me out) she's literally carrying around 116 pounds of gold. She can be quite cruel to those that have wronged her.

🗡 stationery item - a metal fountain pen that's sharp enough to cut.

🗡 3 emojis - 🤔���🔓 (She seriously *always* looks confused. Sometimes it's just to deceive someone, but she's not all that smart)

🗡 celestial body - the rings of Jupiter, very faint but easily a destructive force

@grayembers if you find the time, I would love to hear about one of your BG3 chars! @ace-of-games would love to hear about your character too! (no pressure of course)

[owlcassettes]

Celestial Poem

Celestial poem novel, "The Celestial Nightmare of Norwitch."

Copyright, 2022 Owl Willows

It was space wind

colder and colder

filling our lungs and

shivering our bones

as we fell,  felt

so much older

and as the wires let us go,

we knew there wasn't

ever any going back

Hywll took my hand

and down we fell

I couldn't breathe at first

though it was only anxiety

that was suffocating me

Hywll pressed his mouth

to mine and breathed the air

I denied myself

“We’re off to somewhere better.”

“To die?” I asked, beyond afraid.

He shook his mane of hair and smiled.

“To live.”

The stars enveloped us, an embrace

of light without The Sun

This light was love, and it carried us through

dancing pictures in my head of memories of

when my parents were alive and

 how we spent our rainy days.

In my mind’s eye we entered every room

of the old Victorian to say goodbye

“The Earth has not been good for you

but I will bring you somewhere quiet

with more trees than people

and wind that sounds like the ocean.”

The stars did not have bodies

they were composed of energy

nothing fell between the cracks

because they saw our souls, hearts,

and all that we meant

we knew that we were not too much

for them.

Any wrongdoings were but a speck of dust

though the grief haunting my heart

which ripped me apart, longed to be healed.

A star brimming with blue, white, and gold

with a spirit like my mother’s; strong, soft, and kind

took my hands and we went away to a cluster of stars

as tiny as dots.

She saw Hywll because she turned towards him

and shimmered.

Through a sky of spirits who I first

mistook for clouds

we were guided down,

down through

ethereal ghosts composed of love

and energy.

They welcomed us, thousands of voices in unison

sang to us  that we were loved and found our way home.

“Now where to put you.” pondered the star

as the wind from space fumbled with our hair

and froze our skin.

She thought a long while

so Hywll and I drifted through the sky

wandering far but always close.

We forgot about Earth, though the old house

Stayed within our souls

I searched for the faces of my parents amongst

So many, but they were not there

The shimmers in our hair

from fallen light

we took out of eyes

dismantled our bodies

tossing them away for

we could look as we wanted

without them

She found us

taking our hands to a journey far below

to a planet of sea and silence.

[mammonswhore]

you know for the luke having a twin headcanons, could you sometime do one where they fall because of how much they are around the brothers?

a/n: This is long and has a lot of angst with comfort. I'm going to do 2 of this one of them is this one including general headcanons and the other one is a short fic with even more angst. Let me know if you want to read the one shot!

warning: angst,mention of injuries,mention of death,mention of depression,mention of revenge. This is purely platonic.

MC Falls because they love Demons.

✒Lucifer

It was in a rainy night,he was in his study watching the soft droplets crash against his window. The exchange program has been over for almost 3 months and he admitted that he missed MC more than any other exchange student.

He knew that they were going to be fine, they had Luke and Simeon after all. They didn't needed him but oh how he needed their company. Not only MC was one of the purest angels he has ever seen but they were also their little sibling now and he couldn't help but to miss them.

His attention is drawn to the sky again when a lighting fell from the sky,he had a bad feeling about it. The lightings were very sunny like and he knew that something was wrong and when he saw a body falling in the horizon at a supernatural speed,he knew it.

Wings falling apart,gold jewelry melting into their skin,blood dripping from their body.

"I got you,I am here,don't worry." Lucifer says when he catches them,before they can hit the floor.

Black wings wrapping their body,MC cried out Luke's name.

"He needs me,I have to go back... It hurts,Lucifer! It hurts too much!"

Little horns grew from MC's head,they were becoming a demon and he knew how much it hurts. Not only the physical pain but also having to detach from their now old life in the Celestial Realm.

"I will take you to the Castle and I'll cure you then,okay?"

With his softest tone,Lucifer held their body against his and heard their muffled cries against his chest. Even tho he was afraid of touching them,he couldn't help himself to drag his fingers through their hair.

"I was not wrong,I defended demons and when they urged me to beg for mercy I didn't..."

He wasn't happy,he knew that this will have an awful outcome but he was going to be there for them for every step they had to take.

But still he couldn't help himself but asking, was it his fault?

✒Mammon

Honestly,he was waiting for this day to happen. MC loved him and his brothers, they also appreciated the Demon Lord and his loyal butler so it was just a matter of time.

But he was not ready for it to happen that fast.

He found out when Lucifer called him and told him to go to the Demon's Lord Castle as fast as he could. He knew something was wrong because of his brothers tone so he went there almost racing.

"Where is Mammon?" MC's voice got him out of his trance when he saw them.

They were clinging to Lucifer and facing his chest so Mammon saw their bloody back and growing black wings. Various fighting marks around their arms and legs.

"MC? I-i am here now." Mammon approaches them carefully but they throw themselves at him,wanting to be soothed by their demon big brother.

"I'm here to help you." Mammon said before crying with MC,both of them crying because they knew that nothing will be the same anymore.

"I'm sorry,I know I shouldn't have defended you guys but I just couldn't help myself." They said drowning with their own tears, still having their wounds open.

And then,after crying for a while. MC fell asleep on his arms. They were close to death that was for sure. He was sad and conflicted because of their falling but when he connected the dots,he could see it.

The life their beloved little angel left behind just to make him and his brothers happy again, they left the sun and the always sappy angels to get down here with darkness and the most awful things someone could see.

Mammon lost it. Wrapping his wings around MC,looking at their injured form with anger.

"I don't care who did this to you,you are safe now here. Don't worry about anything now, Luke has Simeon there and I am sure he is comforting him right now,you will see them again. He is still your twin and will ever be even if you are a demon or an angel."

His words were to himself more than to MC, he was just getting ready to the deep sadness and depression they will face when they realize how their old life is now just a memory that will fade with the years.

✒Leviathan

It was a in a thunderstorm and he began to suspect when the rain suddenly stopped. He knew that when they Fell it was raining and when they hit the Devildom ground,the rain suddenly stopped and came back after ten minutes harder than ever.

He almost started praying that the one who was falling was not MC,he knew that something was wrong. His suspects were confirmed when Lucifer texted their group chat and told them to be at the Demon's Lord Castle as soon as possible.

With their body trembling and eyes half closed,MC was laying on a bed while Barbatos was trying to help them keep alive.

Leviathan noticed the scratches and he also didn't fail to notice their constant growling from the pain,their whines for someone to kill them already and their cries and mumbling about Luke.

He couldn't do anything and he knew that but still he had to do something.

"Hey normie,I am here for you. I I-i'll try to take care of you." Leviathan said holding back his tears.

"I know you said I shouldn't defend you at any point for any reason but I just couldn't help myself,I'm sorry."

Weak words falling from their mouth before they held Leviathan's hand and squeezed it until they could catch a breath again.

"I left Luke alone." It was all that they said before crying silently,not even noticing the demon nurse and Barbatos cleaning their wounds.

"He will be okay but you have to be okay first. No complaints for now." He said without a doubt on his voice.

He helped Barbatos and the nurses to take care of MC when they were fast asleep.

"This was rescued from MC's body when we catch them when they fell." Barbatos said nefore handing Lucifer a Celestial arrow, one of the few things that was able to kill angels if shoot right.

Leviathan could feel his wrath growing inside his chest,feeling as if he was the one wounded and at the verge of death.

"How dare they?! Shooting a Celestial arrow against one of their own kind?! Angels are scums born from Father's blurred perspective of perfection and this just proves it! All their talk about being better is bullshit! They shot them and who knows what would they be doing to Luke now! Angels are the worst! Not even us demons would shoot a child!" Leviathan growled in anger,taking the arrow away from Lucifer in a moment of boldness.

He was never this serious so his brothers remained silent,MC was his only true friend and they knew that Levi would make the ones who did this pay.

✒Satan

He was waiting for it,he went to the place they fell almost every day at the same hour. Lucifer once told him that they fell at 6 PM and he was trusting his word for once.

With a book in hand and his bag on his shoulder,Satan sat down on a bench and read there until it was time to go home for dinner.

But this day felt weird,he got there a couple of minutes before 6 PM and forced a chuckle when he noticed that if was 5:54.

"Six minutes before Six,how funny."

Before he could sit,he felt shivers going down his spine. Something was wrong and for once in a while,he felt fear.

Fear that they were about to land on the hard Devildom ground,fear that they will loose everything they had worked for,fear because he loves MC with all his heart and will hate himself if he was right about the reasons they might fell for.

His birth was flashing before his eyes when he saw a figure fell from the upper clean sky at a high speed. He tried to run to catch them but it was too late,they were already on the ground growling in pain and anger. Satan could feel it,the wrath growing inside of them.

Their body was wounded,scratches and blood all trough their form. Tears falling from their eyes making their way down their neck and chest.

"It hurts." MC's first words before their jewelry started to melt into their skin leaving red marks,their halo disappearing and wings almost falling from their back.

"I know,I'll help you." Satan said picking their body from the ground and hurrying to the Castle,he knew Lucifer would be there and he had to get his help before anything else.

He could feel their body changing to be a demon. Their horns growing from their head and their muffled cries against his chest let him catch the hint that it was worst than anything he could imagine.

"LUCIFER!" Satan yelled at the verge of tears before bursting through the Castle's doors with MC in his arms.

He knew he could rely on his brothers on this one and he was right,Lucifer,Diavolo and Barbatos came to him and so did a few more servants ready to help the new demon. Barbatos had a dream about this happening and he wishes he was wrong.

Treating their wounds and trying to get a hold of their blood,Barbatos grabbed a little dagger embedded in their left thigh and hurried to stop the bleeding. Satan grabbed the dagger and thought for himself how cruel the angels can be. MC was a child and they still stabbed them and he didn't want to imagine what was happening with Luke.

Because besides MC he was thinking about their twin,not only because he cares for him but also because even in a half conscious state,MC mumbled about their brother and how they needed to get back and comfort him.

And after a long time,Satan felt lost. Not knowing what to do with the inform he has, not knowing how to comfort MC. He was totally on blank.

✒Asmodeus

He wanted to act like if he was okay, he really wanted to go back to his old self. But as much as he tried he would never be able to ignore the creeping anxiety that flooded his chest every time he thought about MC.

He couldn't help but to think about them lashing out and losing everything they have been working for.

He knew that they were not stupid but yet again the thoughts of them being so pure and kind that they will even sacrifice themselves to protect him and his brothers, makes him shiver.

"Who would have thought that some cute angel would have me so worried."

He often talks to himself and asks what would he do if he was with MC now in the Celestial Realm.

And that's when nostalgia strikes him,the tears falling from his charming eyes make his makeup runny. Asmo laughs at himself, when did he became so selfless? Who would have thought that a little angel would be so important to him? Important enough to make him cry and don't care about his appearance.

Suddenly he felt uneasy,something was wrong or was about to be. He checked on his brothers. "What are all of you doing now?" But their responses were enough to send Asmodeus flying out of the house,if it wasn't his brothers then he knew who it was about.

Flying around the town he saw a flashlight light falling and shooting light colored arrows. Asmodeus knew who it was,his heart aches at the sore thought of the one he adopted as his sibling suffering the same he did sends him to a rage.

Wings flying nimbly towards MC hoping to catch them in time,a sore scream ripping out of his throat when he saw the blood dripping from their body. When he got to catch them the speed they were falling at dragged them to the ground but the falling was easier like this,Asmodeus body wrapped around MC's scarred form.

"No! No! I have to get back! Luke is still there! I am sorry!" MC screamed when their voice full of terror and anger,their voice cracking as tears washed away some of the blood that flowed from a wound on their head.

"Why?! What made you think that you could start a rebellion against the angels just like that?! Say something God dammit!" Asmodeus yelled not deciding if he was feeling anger or if he was worried for them.

"Yes,God dammit..." MC murmured after a few minutes of just tears,letting out a small laugh that was muffled by their own whines.

“Let's get you home,I will take care of you... More care." Asmodeus picked them up and took them to the house rapidly,all his brothers were there.

They knew and they knew how Asmo was feeling,the only person in thousands of years who gave him a feeling as strong as lust yet so different without expecting something in exchange was now laying unconscious on his arms.

"You are home now,I'll take care of you..." He mumbled while everyone took care of MC's wounds.

✒Beelzebub & Belphegor

They know,they know how MC loves them more than anything else. They are aware of how dangerous that can be for the angel too.

It happened when they were on low spirits,as stupid as it might sound. The twins had a fight over dumb things again but for some reason they couldn't get over the anger and frustration said fight caused them.

Beelzebub was the first one to notice something was wrong,an itching sensation traveled through his spine and a cold hair made the hair on his neck spike. It wasn't something related to his fight with Belphegor and he knew that. He called his brothers but the only one who picked the phone was Asmodeus who told him with a trembling voice to come to the Demon's Lord Castle.

He knew what was going on,nothing good could make Asmodeus cry like that. Without much fight he picked Belphegor from his napping spot and rushed to the Castle with his twin on board.

Something was wrong,he knew that but what was it. His suspects were confirmed when Belphegor woke up and with a trembling voice murmured "It´s MC they they they are falling from the Realm." Then Beelzebub run,he was not only running because he had to, he was running because of the creepling fear that made his chest ache with anger and remorsement. He felt Belphegor clinging onto his back and quickly his tears began to wet Beelzebub´s shirt.

Belphegor was on blank. The memories of Lilith´s last moments flooded his sight,soon said visions became memories with MC. He was cursing under his breath,asking his Father why,why was he like this? Shouldn´t he be the one to take the angels hand and guide them to said "good path"? Was this a family curse? Did he have a fixation on making his family suffer? Did his Father hated them so much?

When they reached to the Castle they saw MC´s injured form laying on the floor,their brothers already taking care of them while they whispered and cried.

Belphegor jumped out of Beelzebub´s back and got close to them and he swears his heart broke again when they saw his purple orbes and slightly smiled. MC´s body was covered in blood, wounds spread around thei back and their wings were already falling out, new demonic wings growing.

Beelzebub cried before holdin MC´s hand,this sight was something he had nightmares about. He knew that everything was falling apart when they closed their eyes to supress the tears of pain and self dissapointment,MC´s last words before falling asleep were clear "What happened to Luke?". Beelzebub knew that Luke was okay,Simeon would prefer dying before somethin happened to him and MC but he also knew how much of a hot head they can be. How they were always up for a challenge even when they didn´t have to, how they sat and heard everything Beelzebub had to say about the angels,demons and humans. They were the purest soul that ha ever existed and he knew that part of this whole event was his fault and he was sure his brothers knew that aswell.

When MC fell asleep and was stable,Belphegor went to the Castle Gardens and yelled to the dark Devildom sky. A new star formed just below his and Beelzebub´s,that was MC´s star which not only meant they were going to become a high ranking demon but also a part of the Devildom too. Between tears and random hits to the ground,Belphegor yelled at his Father accusing him for his devious ways of punishment,he yelled at Simeon for not protecting MC and he yelled at Lilith for not being there to give him any sort of advise.

"What are we supposed to do know,Father?! You are just a piece of shit who turns his back when your kids need help! You are way too powerful for your own good! Destroy this,why don´t you end up with our suffering now?! Or is it funnier for you to watch us struggle everyday?! Of course it is! You wanted Lilith to die and when you realized we were goin to react you tried to kill all of us! I wish I was never born an angel! You are a fucking peace of shit who knows nothing about what you preach! You are a lie! Your existence is overrated because you never do something about what´s really important!" Belphegor shouted,voice overflowing with outraged wrath.

Beelzebub watched his twin unleash all of his thoughts before going to him and wrap is arms around his trembling body. Belphegor´s body tensed before crying again,both of them silently apologizing to MC as if they did something wrong besides giving them a home.

Suddenly more arms joined the hug but these pair were weaker,when Beelzebub opened his eyes he saw MC hugging both of them and crying too. Soon enough more arms joined first there were Asmoudeus and Satan,then Leviathan and Mammon and when they least expected it Lucifer was holding all of them inside a cocoon created with his wings meant to protect them from all the fear and pain they were going through.

There were no words needed,their family got bigger and so did the scar from their times at the Celestial Realm but there was something they would not loose again: family.

[luvluvnitrodynamite]

to be kissed by jujutsu kaisen characters

ft. nanami, fushiguro, zenin maki

jjk fluff (slight nsfw nanami)

nanami kento - his kisses unravel you, like a piece of thread coming tightly unwound. it's probably in the varying ways he kisses, with each variation pulling your heart strings until they've come undone. first, it's with those chaste kisses in the morning. he's checking his tie by the door, making sure he looks clean and tidy for work, as you come over and lightly, almost politely, kiss his cheek. he turns to press an equally light kiss to your forehead, murmuring a hushed goodbye before he leaves. that's the first tug on your heart string, light and polite as it is. you carry your kiss carefully, making sure not to accidentally brush it off (and of course nanami does the same).

when you both return home, the kisses become a bit more involved. for one, it's that long-awaited, open-mouth kiss. both your movements are slow and languid, with neither one of you in a rush, to savor that welcome-home greeting. you silently share the impressions of the day, exchanging unspoken i-love-yous between breaths. each time you feel him smile against your lips, that's another tug.

finally, it's those passionate kisses where he smashes his lips into yours and you breathlessly whisper "kento!" and he shushes you by pulling you in even closer. this is where you discover that your kisses unravel him just as much as his do you. he's losing control and trying to get it back by grabbing your hips, pressing his fingers so deep you know you'll have raspberry dots across the tender flesh in the morning. you both crash onto the couch, and you're desperately sinking onto him with your hands snaking up and down his body. they finally land on his chest as you steady yourself on him, feeling each labored breath on your neck. the final tug arrives, and now you're just a pile of string in his lap. thank goodness you're in his lap though, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

fushiguro megumi - his kisses are unearthly. you've never believed in celestial beings, that is, until you met him. the touch of his lips feel featherlight, almost ghostly, but with an electrifying connection that keeps you both tethered together. kisses on the mouth are rare, but he loves to press kisses along the rest of your body. down your neck, to collarbones, shoulders, the inside of your arm, to focus on your wrist and the fleshed part of your palm. these trails leave a zingy, zippy on the surface of your skin, and you could swear you see dazzling sparks dance in his lips' wake. those kisses are gentle and mysterious. his eyes are always swirling with something unidentifiable, but not quite unknown.

the extraordinary part of his kisses was the weather. fushiguro always seemed to carry a trace of the weather on his lips. a rainy day brings wet, sticky kisses to your neck and cheek. the spots always feel so so soft and lush afterwards that you half-expect flowers to bloom out of those nourished spots. his kisses seem to mirror the weather on hot days, carrying the summer sun inside. they leave your skin warm to the touch, crashing a blushing heatwave all over your body. the winter is the opposite, where his lips feel bitterly cold. in a rare moment of boldness, he likes to pull the neck of your sweater to the side to press icy kisses on your shoulders, watching you jump and laughing when you get annoyed. he says he likes to kiss you in the winter the best because they keep him warm, though you're not sure if he means inside or out. even so, you'll let him keep kissing you over and over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

zenin maki - her kisses are poisonous, you swear. there's something slipped in them that short-circuit your brain and make you unable to think of anything else. she kisses you and you go fizzy with delight, like bubbly fireworks are popping off inside your head. maki always has a hand on your jawline, carefully tilting your face to meet hers. when you kiss, you seem to always be relying on her for support. it's never intentional of course; you just start to melt under her touch and absolutely have to wrap your arms around her neck to pull her in. you become completely dependent on her to make sure you still function,

she's in control, that's a given. she's wrapping her arms around your back and the back of your legs while you jump up into her, lips staying connected the whole time. you fold your legs around her waist as you jostle into position. you're a full head above her now, safely propped up on her sinewy frame. you break the kiss for a moment, removing your arms from around her neck to cradle her face with your hands. she leans into the touch, giving you a soft smirk as she rubs her soft cheek up against your open palm.

you decide to wipe that smirk off with your lips, but you're quickly reminded who is kissing who. maki is dominating your mouth, pushing in those blessed toxins that make your breath run out and legs go weak (tg she was still holding you). you feel your grip on the outside world loosen as you try to meld yourself more into her body. she responds in kind, sinking to her knees while still holding you. the floor allows you both to consolidate your bodies into one, pushing further into each other. this proximity and the heat of the kiss has you feeling more lightheaded than ever, and yet you'd chase this fever dream forever because it meant maki's tongue would swipe your lips once more.

[annesthaeticc]

Angel Baby | Sherlock x OFC

Angel Baby : Chapter One

SUMMARY: "You came out the blue on a rainy night, no lie. I tell you how I almost died, while you're bringing me back to life." When a detective; a man of science meets a celestial, his guardian angel, worlds clash and fates collide. What could go wrong? And what could go perfectly right? A Sherlock Holmes/OFC fanfiction, based from Troye Sivan's 'Angel Baby'.

WARNINGS: RATED 18+. fluff, domestic fluff, angst, and eventual smut.

[ ANGEL BABY MASTERLIST ]

"Have you imagined yourself dying, Mr. Holmes?" the voice echoed through the empty place. Sherlock rolled his eyes at the mundanity of the question. He did not need to imagine it, almost every other day, he is on the brink of death. Sherlock really did not have the time for boring chit-chat. He was bound to a chair, his wrists burning from the tightness of the cuffs, and his mouth was starting to chafe at the gag.

"When you see yourself dying, how does it happen? Is it painful? Is it peaceful?" the voice once again bounced through the walls and through the detective's ears. What was really the point of asking him these existential questions when his mouth is actually tied shut? His abductor was full-on bullcrap, Sherlock thought.

And so, he started to wriggle his wrists a bit and started his escape technique. He decided the best course of action was to break himself free, disarm the painfully boring abductor, and just run home. He was desperate for a cup of tea, and Mr. Imagine Your Death was nothing but shit.

He managed to break free from his bindings and disarmed and render his kidnapper unconscious. Sherlock smirked at himself for actually cutting off his kidnapper's monologue with just a simple lock on the neck. His plan done, he walked out, but the night was young, and Sherlock thought all hell broke loose when someone tailed him and ran after him. The fun was just starting.

Oh, might as well release the tension, use some adrenaline, he thought.

And so, Sherlock Holmes ran.

He knew the streets of London like the back of his hand. He memorised every beat of the eclectic city, every change, and so he did not have enough trouble navigating his way to shake off the man running after his tail.

His dress slacks clung on to his legs, his shirt wrapped around his body like a second skin, his coat flapping around his back like a set of wings, and his navy-blue cashmere scarf was nowhere to be found. He must've lost it, but he paid it no mind, he has more cashmere scarves back at home. Home. 221B Baker Street. Oh, how he longed to just dash to the safety of his home, grab his gun, and shoot the madman to death.

He stopped running for a moment, catching his breath and whipping around to check if the madman caught up with him. Fortunately, he lost him, or them. So, he rested against the brick wall behind him, breathing hard and shaking from the vigorous running marathon around London. He smirked at himself as he felt the blood course quickly through his veins, his heart beating and pounding against his chest, the adrenalin was working through him, and it was like a drug. A kind of high he craved so much. A kind of high that did not last long.

Minutes passed, his breath and heartbeat finally were back on to its normal pace. Adrenalin left him like how John left 221B Baker Street. The void was slowly starting to creep through him, the feeling of loneliness, emptiness, and every possible word related that describes his isolation. And so, he straightened himself up, closed his eyes for a moment to collect the scattered thoughts in his mind palace, the emotional residue left by the adrenalin high, and dumped them in the darkest pits of his mind, locking it down.

Cool and calm, he was Sherlock Holmes again. He popped coat collar up and ruffled his hair a bit. He started to walk out of the alley, but right before he could escape the deserted place, he suddenly felt a sharp pain shooting through his abdomen. He knows the feeling all too well. He needn't glance down and check if he was bleeding through his white shirt. He felt it.

And suddenly, all of his systems seemed to malfunction. His mind palace showing hazy pictures and movements, the steps on how to not panic whilst he was going to septic shock seemed too blurry for his taste. The words floated around him dreamily and he risked closing his eyes.

His first big mistake was closing his watchful and ever cautious eyes. He stumbled down, and the darkness finally welcomed him. Enveloping him, wrapping him like a blanket.

Across the heavens, thousands of feet above the ground, she saw him and on routine, she guided him. Working herself through him, helping him. But it didn't work and this was the first time it happened. She started to panic, she frustratingly worked her spell on him and patiently waited for him to get up or at least crawl to get proper help.

"Come on, Sherlock. Wake up. Use that brilliant mind of yours," she muttered silently. She tried to pry his mind open but it was locked up. Steeled harder than ever. She banged the doors, willing for it to open up like it usually did, but did not budge, not even a centimetre. Fear started to run through her. She was afraid many times because the one she was guarding was known to be a junkie; an adrenalin and drug junkie. He risked his life many many times now, facing death himself but she did not let him walk into the darkness by himself. She was always there to pull him out of the darkness.

This time, she was afraid more than ever. The little hairs on her back stood as a shiver run through her, and on instinct; she stretched and her wings flapped open, the glorious hue of blue startled her fellow angels.

"You can't, Selene." Indigo, the angel with the bright purple wings, her best friend, warned her.

"I know I can't but I need to, he's dying!" she screamed as she felt her emotions rage through her.

"He's always dying," Paris snickered and Selene glared at him, causing her to glow and burn in blue even brighter.

"Calm down, come on, I can help him, we can help him wake up from up here, there's no need to fly down," Indigo said in a soothing manner but it did nothing to calm down the blue-winged angel.

"I have to, I need to." Selene firmly said, and within a blink, she was gone.

The haunting sight of him bleeding and unconscious, just seconds away before slipping to death welcomed Selene. Luckily it was a deserted place, no one would see her work her magic on him. She caressed his face as she intricately wove her fingers on his wound, drawing and tracing her magic on him, sealing the wound caused by the bullet, and easing the pain. She cocooned them within the warmth of her wings, now dark against the absence of light in the area.

Moments and lifetimes pass through as she helped him heal. She alternately ran her thumb against his sharp cheekbones and on the crease of his eyebrows, chasing away the lines of stress from his recent incident. She knew that it would be mere seconds away before he'll open his eyes and see all of her glory. She should leave, she knew that. His wound was already healed up but the pain was still there, that she knows. She willed herself to leave, but somehow, she can't.

This was her first and best mistake.

The golden rule of guardians; guide and guard, but never interfere. The bond between the angels and the ones they were guarding was strong and powerful enough even at the great distance between the heavens and the Earth. Meeting each other would be chaos. A quiet and calm chaos, as it seems, as nothing destructive happened yet, the sky did not fall, nor the ground did not crumble beneath them.

She heard stories of angels who met their guarded ones. But they were just all but stories, no one really knew if anything about the stories were true.

And now, she broke the golden rule. Again, the first and her best mistake.

The moment Sherlock Holmes opened his eyes, she was drawn unto him. There was no turning back. She was all for him. His blue-green-gray with little hints of gold eyes finally met its match, her dark and light blue with flecks of green eyes. The moment their gazes met; their souls were tied. And it was the most beautiful chaos that the heavens and the Earth had ever experienced.

For some reason, Sherlock was calm, he did not push the alien creature that was hovering above him, instead he lay there beneath her; motionless but calm. He took in her sight, and she was an absolute visual. She was naked except for the flimsy piece of blue cloth that covered her modesty, her hair was dark as the night, and stars adorned her neck, bright but not blinding, just twinkling, and finally, her wings cast and cocooned against them providing him warmth.

He finally gathered himself to speak and asked her, "Am I dead?"

"You're not, I can't and won't let you," she replied, her voice softly ringing in his ears.

Experimentally, he lifted his hand to touch her face, just to assure himself that he is indeed alive, and the woman above her was real. She was, she is real. He traced her smooth cheek, and it was surreal, he didn't believe he was still alive and it's all real. Surely this must be limbo, he said to himself, and Selene heard him.

"No, Sherlock, it's not. You're alive," she said.

He looked into her eyes, searching her. His critical mind refuses to believe this sort of fantasy. He is a man of science, for Christ's sake. But in her eyes, he saw it. He felt it. No number of experiments and scientific discoveries will justify this event, their meeting. And finally, he saw her, who truly is she. She was always there, watching him from up above. She was ever present to save him from the prying grasps of death. She was always there, sighing in disappointment whenever he ruins his mind with whatever chemicals he injects in his veins.

She was in his mind, but he paid it no attention. He always believed that his mind palace was impenetrable. The voice in his head was always his, but not now, now it has changed. The voice in his head, the small one and submissive one that he thought was his, was actually hers. The voice that always helped him to put the little pieces of information together so that he could work on the bigger puzzle. The voice that congratulated and praised him for his beautiful mind. The voice that urged him and soothed him to sleep after countless nights of staying awake.

It was hers. It was Selene's.

"Selene," Sherlock whispered and she leaned in to his touch, her eyes now wet with tears.

"Sherlock," she said in turn.

"Am I really dead?" he asked again, just to make sure. Nothing or no one could be as ethereal as her sight, so he had to make sure he wasn't dead.

"No, you stubborn man, I can't and I will never let you die,"

"That's bullshit, is this even real?" he countered.

"It is, what must I do to prove it to you?"

"I have no idea," Sherlock replied, for once, clueless and unknowing.

"Come on, let's get you home." Selene smiled at him and embraced him, taking his strong yet lithe form into her arms.

And within a flash, Sherlock Holmes was home. He was finally comforted within the confines of 221B Baker Street and Selene was helping him tuck himself on his bed.

Once settled and warm within his sheets and blankets, Selene sat beside him for a while. Running her hands through his dark and curly locks, she knew that in no time, the detective would be asleep. But the stubborn man he is, he fought against the currents of sleep. Instead he raised his gaze up to her, finding it not possible to not look at her.

"What are you?" he asked her, his voice deep and tired.

"You know what I am, Sherlock," she replied.

"I want you to say it,"

"And what if I don't want to?"

"You will, I'll make you say it,"

"Perhaps you will, or you will not." she smirked at him and she caught a glimpse of a small smile forming on his lips.

"I will, maybe in the morning," he replied.

"In the morning?"

"Yes, why?"

Because she had to leave. She needs to leave. That was her plan. Save Sherlock. Take him home. Help him sleep. And leave. Put it in his mind that their meeting was all but a dream, it was never real. Erase her face from his mind and go back to where she rightfully belongs, right up above in the heavens. But does she want to leave? No. She doesn't want to. The moment their eyes met, she wanted to be right next to him, protect him at all costs. He was her soulmate and never in a thousand years, in a million lifetimes, she'll want to be apart from him ever again.

Sherlock was eyeing her with such intensity that made her roll her eyes at him. He was fighting her spell to sleep.

"Will you stop it?" she said.

"Stop what?" Sherlock replied.

"Fighting sleep, will you just stop it?"

"I will if you only answer my question." Sherlock smirked at her and there was no point in dodging the question. He was so damn persistent.

"I can't, Sherlock. I need to go back," she sighed.

"Go back where?"

"Oh, you know where!"

"I honestly have no clue where is that,"

"Damn," Selene sighed exasperatedly.

"Fine. Will you stay?" Sherlock said.

"I can't,"

"Can't or won't?" Sherlock challenged her.

"Believe me, I really really want to stay but I can't,"

"Well, I want you to. I need you to stay. I want you to stay, and hold me, and help me deal with the pain." Sherlock said quietly, the tone of desperation spoken and heard before he knew it and before the words fell out of his pretty pink cupid's bow lips.

Some part of him became all mushy and sentimental; emotions started to fill him, a feeling he so much detests but he can't control.

And so, she did. Selene gave him a small nod and a smile before reassuring him that she will stay.

"Lie down with me," Sherlock said and she complied. She buried herself under the blanket and lay down next to him but a distance between them was kept. She tucked her hands under the soft pillow and once again whispered sweet dreams in Sherlock's mind.

"What are you doing to me?" Sherlock grumbled as he felt the weight of sleep take a toll on him.

"I'm helping you sleep," she whispered.

"No, that's not what I meant. But whatever it is you're doing, stop it."

"Never." she flashed him a small smile and he did the same. A lazy and sleepy smile was formed on his lips before he finally closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

But before he could fall down into the depths of sleep, he heard her say "Goodnight, Sherlock." and he felt her soft lips plant a kiss on the crown of his head. And before he let himself wash away by the currents and waves of sleep, he hoped, no, he begged her to stay.

[ ANGEL BABY: MASTERLIST ]

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( hello, i'll be providing u some sherlock stuff for now. i'm reaaaal busy with uni and it's my exam week but i can't actually keep my hands off tumblr soooo... i'll be working on ur requests once i'm done with exams, for now, enjoy 'Angel Baby'. if u like it, please let me know so that i'll upload the second chapter!! sending u all the love, anne)

[amintyworld]

Illusion - A C!Tubbo Origin Story

EDIT: Repost because Tumblr somehow blocked this post from showing up in tags for no reason. Thanks, Tumblr. /s

A/N: I’M BACK, BABY! After a whole year, I’m finally back to posting! <3 Thanks again to all who’ve been so understanding, patient, and supportive this past year while I’m been dealing with shit, I appreciate and love every single one of you. I’m hoping to get back into writing and posting more often, so be on the lookout for that!

Speaking of which, this has been a WIP since BEFORE my break, and I’m so excited to share it with all of you after months of work. It’s in a series where I write angsty fics for some of my amazing and awesome mutuals, this one is for @benzel! Please go check out their blog and give a follow if you want because they’re such a chill person. With that all being said, let’s get into the ANGST! - Your author, Minty

TW: Character Death(s), blood/gore, murder, wing injury (?), flying, grief, eating, and fire mention. (If there’s any more I need to tag, let me know!)

———————————————-

Tubbo loved his house. He loved the lavish garden that surrounded the cottage he called his home. He loved sitting by the window and watching the bees float from flower to flower. He loved laying under the old willow tree and watching the branches wave in the wind as if they had a mind of their own. Tubbo loved walking among the rows of fresh fruits and vegetables as if he was on a tightrope, always careful never to fall on top of the precious plants. Tubbo loved the crisp smell of the garden when it was ready to harvest and eat, it always made his mouth water. His father always said that it was a special talent of his - always knowing exactly the right time to pick and store the crops at the peak of freshness. The food always tasted slightly better when it was picked then, strangely enough.

Tubbo loved the fireplace. Fire always looked so pretty, and felt so achingly warm against his skin. During rainy and snow-filled days he’d be glued in front of that fireplace, watching the ashes cackle and burn to his heart’s content. His obsession earned him the nickname ‘Firebug’, a name that his father always cooed at him fondly during those cold nights and days, ruffling his hair just right and holding him close. The fireplace to Tubbo meant stories, worlds built up by his father’s lips that described daring heroes and warriors that battled evil in its many forms - Even one of his favorites was about a mortal winged warrior and a goddess of death. Tubbo would cuddle close in his father’s embrace, wrapped in a blanket in front of the fire, hearing his father’s stories - always slipping into Dreamland by the third one. His father would look lovingly down at him and press a fond kiss on his son’s forehead before carrying him off to bed.

Tubbo’s father was a healer, and often many villagers would visit him at his cottage for medical assistance. His father’s office had a rack always fully stocked with glowing potions that Tubbo was always forbidden to touch. Whenever someone knocked on his door frantically, they’d always slip into that room just off the main hallway, before closing and locking the small goat hybrid out. His father would tell him how dangerous it was whenever Tubbo would whine about being left out of the action. He’d always sigh, looking at his son with a smile and promising that when he was older, one day, he’d be able to go inside and help him with clients.

One day his father forgot to shut the door, and Tubbo’s ears perked up in interest as he strained to hear the muffled talking through the walls, his curiosity always getting the better of him. The stuffed animal toy was held limply in his hands as he listened.

“Sit down over here, okay? Just relax, I’ll get you patched up and on your feet in no time.”

“You’re very kind, sir. Thank you. You truly are a gift from the gods, as they say.”

“I am no celestial gift, rest assured - simply a man doing his duty.” His father said, laughter hidden in his tone. “A man running out of stock, mind you. I presume the raiders have moved closer?”

“I’m afraid so, sir. They’re artfully skilled, trained… our men are just holding on as we speak.”

“Hopefully reinforcements arrive in a few days’ time. For now, I’m humbled to be of service.”

The wounded client coughed violently for a few moments before answering. “And I to you, sir.”

—————————————————-

Every morning, Tubbo would wake up wrapped in a comforting, lulling warmth as the sun peered through the windows, slowly and peacefully awakening him. He’d be greeted by the faces of the other stuffed animals on his bed, his hand-carved drawers and small mirror laid across a beautifully painted forest green. Every morning Tubbo would wake up with a smile, unknowingly hugging his small bee plush closer, as if to wake it up for the day as well. Every morning he woke up safe. Every morning Tubbo woke up at home. 

This morning, however, Tubbo awoke not to warmth but to a chilling, windy coldness that seeped into his skin and made him shiver. He curled into himself on instinct, clutching the small bee plushie closer to his chest. The sun brightly beat down on the small child as he moved, the sunlight filling his eyes suddenly as he was startled awake, rubbing his sore eyes as they adjusted to the light. He was surrounded by trees that stretched far, far, far above him, so tall they could touch the heavens. It was at this moment that Tubbo realized he was in a cardboard box, almost like the type he’d see crowding the attic. Was… was he in the attic? But the trees…

Confused, the young boy bravely peered over the box.

Well, this didn’t look familiar at all. There were rocks, moss, and leaves scattered all over the ground, overgrowth spilling around and blocking Tubbo’s view as he desperately searched for a landmark. The more he realized how lost he was, the more panic rose in Tubbo’s chest. “Dad!” He called out desperately. “Dad!”

Only silence greeted him—the wrong kind of silence.

A loud explosion to his far-right made the young boy scramble back down and into the corner of the cardboard box. He hugged his knees and his small bee plushie close to his chest. His heart beat faster and his mind scrambled with one question and one question only - What was that?! Suddenly stories from the older kids in the village resurfaced, stories of grotesque and horrifying monsters that lurked in the dark forests and preyed on the souls of children who wandered just a bit too far into their territory. Another explosion made Tubbo close his eyes in fear as he whimpered. Where was Dad? Tubbo wished more than anything for Dad to be here and hold the small boy close in his arms and tell him everything was going to be alright. But he wasn’t. He was alone. Why was he alone? Why did Dad leave him all alone?

Just when the silence became so unbearable the child almost missed the monster noises, what were most definitely sharp claws hitting stone made tears leave streaks down his face as he sobbed. “Leave me alone!” A shadow crossed over his cardboard box and without a moment’s hesitation, Tubbo buried his face into the plushie, desperate for some kind of comfort.  Something moved to touch him, making him panic more. “No no no no no no no…”

The voice was warm like magma cream. “It’s okay, I promise I’m not gonna hurt you.”

That… didn’t sound like a monster…

The man’s face was worn with age and time, probably much older than Father. His hair seemed slightly messed, the buttery yellow reaching the tips of the older man’s shoulders. A green and white striped hat sat atop his head, the large brim making more of a shadow. He wore what seemed to be a white tank top and pants with a bright green robe and a bright red heart necklace around his neck. Tubbo wanted his father, he wanted to be with his father at home. Please. Tears streamed down his face before he could stop them, making his bee plush damp.

“Shh…” The man kneeled beside the box, wasting no time and wiping away the tears from the child’s face. “It’s okay, you’re fine, nothing’s gonna hurt you, I promise…” Tubbo hugged the plushie close as his sobs came to a close, silently looking at the man curiously. He’d never met anyone without his Dad before, he didn’t know what to do or say. The man seemed kind, though. A sort of gentle kindness that some part of him clung to, that he needed. 

After a few moments of silence that felt like forever, the man smiled at him and moved to the side of the box, leaning up against a tree. Stretching his back, Tubbo could see two large gray wings come into view. Bird wings. Tubbo couldn’t think of many people he’d met with wings before. They were cool - the sunlight filtering through the trees made the few silvery feathers reveal themselves. Starstruck, the child left his bee plushie behind as he got on his knees to get a better look over the cardboard box. “Woah…”

The blonde man paid no mind to the stares from the kid and smirked when he saw the dazzled look in his eyes. He held out an apple. “Hey, uh… you hungry?”

Tubbo looked back and forth from the man to the apple. Father always got mad at him when he didn’t ask permission to get stuff from strangers. He didn’t want his Dad to get mad at him, but… he wasn’t here… was it okay? Just as he was contemplating his situation, his stomach began to growl. A bit embarrassed, he looked over at the man, who let out a hearty laugh. 

“I think that’s a yes.” The blonde smirked. “Go ahead, take it. It’s all yours.” Anxiously, Tubbo slowly moved to take the apple, nearly dropping it, taking it from the man’s grip. He held it in his hands, giving the blonde a smile as he moved to sit cross-legged inside the box. Without a second thought, Tubbo bit into the apple flesh, enjoying the snack. The man turned and produced another apple from his bag. “Don’t worry, I’m hungry too.”

Tubbo wiped a bit of apple juice away with his sleeve as he swallowed. “Thank you.”

“Of course. No one’s going hungry, not if I can help it.” He smiled fondly after a few bites. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?”

“Tubbo.”

“Well very nice to meet you, Tubbo.” The man said, tipping his hat to the kid, who giggled. “My name’s Phil.”

“Phil.” Tubbo smiled to himself before taking another bite. “I ‘ike your wings.” He muffled, bits of apple in his mouth. 

Phil laughed. “Slow down, mate. Don’t talk with your mouth full, yeah?” Phil took another bite before speaking. “But uh, thank you. They’re pretty, huh?”

Tubbo nodded, eyes widening with stars as he came to a realization. “Are you a bird?!”

Phil’s face was a mixture of amusement and surprise. “Well, kind of. Someone really special gave them to me.”

Tubbo couldn’t get his bite of apple down fast enough. “Who?!”

“Now now,” Phil chided. “That’s a story for another day.” He finished his apple, flinging the core on the ground a good distance away. 

“Aw, come on! You gotta tell me!” The child whined, and Phil fondly smirked at the kid. He sounded just like Tommy. The avian’s mind briefly wondered about the chaos that would surely be unraveling with those three gremlins left alone for the afternoon, and he laughed at the thought. 

Looking over at the kid fondly, he couldn’t help but notice how young he was - no more than five or six. “Maybe later, alright mate?” He silently promised the kid. “But now, I think it’s time to leave the box… it’s not safe here, okay?”

Not safe? Tubbo was pretty sure he figured that out by the second explosion. It was odd, though. He couldn’t hear any monsters anymore. No hissing or groaning or growling. It was… strange. There were so many, he was sure of it! He’d heard so many…

…where did they go?

Though he was terrified, he slowly crept toward the edge of the box to peek over once again. The wind whistled through the trees high above, blew through his clothes, and made him shiver. Sunlight made the thick canopy glow, high up above the two, and his eyes filled with stars as his fear melted away. The dew made the forest shine like glitter.

Magic… Tubbo thought to himself with a smile. 

He liked the forest now… it was much quieter. Much safer.  Maybe when he yelled at the creatures to get away, they listened? He must be pretty scary, then. Scarier than whatever was out there before. Yeah - nothing was gonna scare him now! He smirked at the thought. Phil shouldered his satchel as he stood, the full length of his wings finally revealed. They were gigantic, and reminded Tubbo of the size of the hallway rug back at home - the weaved fabric stretched to the end of the long hallway, billowing like a sheet whenever his father would shake out the dust. They’d make a game of it, too - his Dad would use it to his advantage during tickle fights full of giggles, trapping him in the woven fabric once it was all clean. Though it was a rug, it was soft to the touch. He couldn’t help but be consumed by the thought of having his own wings for a moment, soaring through the breeze before Phil spoke again.

“Do you know the name of your village? I can take you home…”

Something leaped out of Tubbo’s chest at the thought of seeing his Dad again, that look of worry on his face from whenever he ran off and got lost at the market. The way his eyebrows would knit together and come undone at the sight of him. When he’d rush over and scoop Tubbo up into his shaking arms and hug him, lecturing with wetness in his eyes that he needed to stay close when they’re in crowds.

A longing, sinking feeling caught his stomach, and his eyes flashed to the ground.

In an instant, Phil got down to his level, his eyebrows knitted together like his Dad’s would, a gentle hand on the child’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay mate, I promise. We’ll find your parents and get you home in no time at all.” He smiled reassuringly. “I’m a pretty fast flier.”

“Wait… you can fly?!” Tubbo’s eyes were filled with stars, his mouth a shocked smile that grew ever the wider.

Phil was growing ever fonder of the kid with each passing minute. He chuckled again. “Did you think they’re just for show?”

———————————–

Tubbo was timid, but Phil would be lying if he said the kid wasn’t brave. Phil carried him piggyback style, his eyes searching for an opening through the thick canopy. Despite the child’s protest, the bee plush was tucked securely and safely into his satchel for the flight. Tubbo’s small arms clung tightly around his neck.

A small patch of sunlight led to a clearing. Perfect. “Hold on, okay mate?”

“Okay.” 

He allowed his wings to stretch to their full height, making sure the passenger wasn’t disturbed. He bent his knees down and lept into the air. A gasp left Tubbo’s lips as he squeezed tighter on the grip for a moment in fear. Philza couldn’t help but smile as he soared up and up and finally out of the canopy and into the cool air. He shivered excitedly at the takeoff, letting it whip his hair around a bit. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes as he drifted and the wind blew through his feathers, letting himself enjoy the brief moment.

And, from how Tubbo shifted and the small sharp intake of breath… he was enjoying it too. 

Tubbo’s grip slowly relaxed as they soared through the clouds. The sun was in the middle of the sky, casting its buttery yellow light over the clouds, making them look like swaths of golden fleece. Tubbo felt like a giant looking down at a world that used to feel indescribably large, now something he could fit in the palm of his hand. His eyes scanned the treeline with interest as a blurry of fur, a wolf pack, ran through the trees below. They looked so tiny, any fear he had for them before, of village elders’ warnings… didn’t matter. He couldn’t help but giggle. They flew over a massive body of water, the child watching with wide eyes as dolphins leaped out from the surface of the water and back again.  “Wow… it’s so pretty up here!” Gathering courage by the second, his arm left the grip on Phil as it raised to the sky. His fingers brushed across the fluffy golden clouds, wisps of cold air ran through his fingers in small bursts, like breaths of crisp autumn wind. A wide smile crept onto his face as he lifted both hands as if he was on a rollercoaster. “Wooooooooo!”

Phil’s heart felt light. It had been quite a while since he took any of his kids for a fly, and he wouldn’t admit it, but he missed having a passenger on his flights. He got so busy lately with repairs to the house, making farms, trading with the Nether and nearby empires, training the twins… he hadn’t exactly spent as much time playing and hanging out with them as he’d like. Tommy loved going out on flights with him when was pretty young around the forest, Wilbur or Techno tagging along occasionally. They loved it when he tossed them into the air and caught them, when he did loops or when he sped up. He made a mental note to do that more often, and a playful grin made its way onto his lips as a lightbulb went off in his head. “Hang on, Tubbo-!”

“Wha-?!” Before the child could answer, Phil began speeding up as he held on tighter. The child’s heart thumped against his ribcage as he looked around in interest, wind smacking against his face and pushing back his hair. He giggled. “Faster!”

Phil chuckled fondly. “Okay, faster it is.”

The stretch felt satisfying as he sped up, his wings still a bit sore - he hadn’t pushed them more than needed for a while. He began to sway back and forth, rapidly heading toward an island in the middle of the ocean which he knew housed some villages. A large dock in the distance captured all of the kid’s attention as they flew overhead, he climbed up and pointed over Phil’s shoulder. “That’s it!” He shouted, and Phil slowed as they began their descent into a village just underneath the trees.

The landing was a bit bumpy. Phil’s feet stumbled as the ground met them quicker than he preferred, tightening his grip on the child to make sure he didn’t fall off. He caught his breath as Phil’s hand raised to meet the trunk of a large oak tree, a satisfied smile making its way onto his face. Tubbo slipped off easily, the drop not too far. He moved toward the front, eyes wide with concern. “Are you alright, Phil?”

“Don’t worry about me, mate.” Phil brushed it off. “Just been a while since I’ve done tricks like that.”

Tubbo held back a small smile, awkwardly looking to the ground. “It was pretty fun.” After a moment of his thoughts, he added: “I’m sorry if it hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Pfft, no way. Just a workout, I promise.” Phil’s smile turned reassuring, gathering his bearings and standing back up to his full height. “Anyway, you said this was your village?”

Tubbo nodded. “Yeah, Tanglewood. The trees here are really, really big.” His hand pointed upwards to a cluster of dark oak trees on the other side of the dirt road in front of the two. “They look really scary at night, like giants.”

“Well, you’ve beaten bigger trees, so I don’t think there’ll be much of a problem anymore, huh?” Phil pointed out, making the kid’s eyes shine like stars.

“Yeah! I’m scarier than them!”

Phil fondly smiled. “Alright then, lead the way. You’re my protector.”

Tubbo’s jack o’lantern smile could light up cities, Phil thought to himself. The kid quickly reached into the satchel and held the bee plush up towards Phil. “He’s a guard too!”

“Yeah,” Phil nodded. “A bee guard. The best guard, besides the Brave Tubbo of course.”

Tubbo giggled as he walked ahead, turning toward the dirt path. He briefly looked behind him for Phil to catch up. The kid angled himself in a warrior pose, clutching the plush under one arm and using the other to point to the right. “Dis way! Come on!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Phil responded as he shifted the satchel’s weight on his shoulder, following the boy as he gleefully rushed down the path toward his home. 

After a few minutes, a group of wooden houses came into view. A large sign adorned the entrance, created with fallen branches and sticks that spelled the town’s namesake. It was a gigantic village, at least compared to the villages Phil was used to visiting. In front of them, the smooth dirt path turned into cobblestone. The main street. Marketplace tents dotted the road but stood empty of inhabitants. The houses seemed run-down, with cracks in the glass windows and scratches on the wooden walls. Confused, Phil looked up - it was a bit past midday. Villagers should be up by now, the marketplace busy with trade and the shops overflowing with the day’s customers. However, the town stood empty as the two entered further inside its walls, hollow like a husk.

Where was everyone?

“Tubbo, stay close!”

As Tubbo ran forward toward the town center’s fountain, his cheerful sounds of glee echoed throughout the deserted town as if it were a cave. Phil’s eyes were quickly drawn to a limply hanging sign of a dressmaker. The paint was chipping and fading, the only redone bits of it were the striking black letters of the title - ‘Vella and Her Various Glowing Gowns’. He walked closer, moving toward the door and leaning up to peek inside. The oak door fell backward, slamming against the floor not with a slam, but a clank. Phil’s wings fluffed up as his hand hovered over his sword. His eyes searched the darkness from his position in the doorway, the hybrid’s eyes not yet adjusted to the dim lighting of the room. Shapes… squares - a counter with a register, perhaps? - and curves standing still. People?

He held his hand up in surrender. His voice gathered power to broadcast across space. “Hello…?! I’m not here to hurt you. I arrived with a friend, a lost boy from here?”

The silence was eerie as Phil stepped inside. Something hit his side and he moved and sliced, breathing heavily as something landed on the wooden floor with a thunk. Phil’s heart was beating a mile a minute as he looked around for his next target. When he found nothing, he looked to the floor.

…A mannequin. His slice went through its middle, stuffing leaking out onto the floor. For a moment, he felt like a complete idiot as red embarrassment found itself on Phil’s face. He rolled his eyes. How silly. He leaned down to clean up the mess he made in someone else’s shop, moving the pieces closer to examine them. Metal gleamed from the light in the room, a chainmail chest plate looking up at him. Armor.

It clicked in his mind like two puzzle pieces. Why would a dressmaker sell armor? Because the townspeople needed it more than clothes. They needed protection… They were fighting something. No wonder no one was around. 

A small light glowed through the open crack of a door at the back of the shop. Phil stepped carefully past the mannequins, as quick as the wind itself. He pressed his wings against the wall next to the door. With his diamond sword drawn, he braced himself for battle. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door quickly. 

A gasp left his lips as light flooded the small room.

A woman, eyes weaved with worry, stood still as he took her final breaths. Her hand, crimson from holding back the blood spilling from her stomach wound, reached out in front of her toward the shadow that surrounded her. It embraced her in its clutches, planting a kiss on the victim’s forehead, its eyes filled with a melancholy sadness. The shadow stared down at the creation with pity and remorse, setting the body gently on the ground. It kneeled over her, bowing its head as it tucked a bit of its long ebony hair behind its ear and turned its attention to the small glowing ball of light in the air.

Despite the circumstances, Phil couldn’t help but smile. It was her. Lady Death. The love of his life. 

As the ball of light, the soul, flew around her she giggled sadly. Her voice was a warm whisper. “Alright, little one, it’s time to rest.” She lifted her arm slightly as the soul flew up into her sleeve, collected. Then, her smile growing a bit warmer, her eyes landed on Phil. “My angel…”

“Kristin. I’ve missed you.” He spoke softly. The hybrid was always giddy when he said her name. Something special only he knew, only he was allowed to call her as. Phil was careful not to step closer than the doorway. She was Death, after all. 

“Once again fate has yielded us these unfortunate circumstances, I’m afraid.” She sighed.

“Any moment to see you is worth it.” Phil grinned. 

Kristin’s smile fell. “I’m sorry to say we haven’t much time. The boy is in danger, Phil.”

“…What?”

Lady Death arose from the floor. All warmth suddenly sapped from the room as she looked down at the body with a wave of well-hidden anger. “Heathens have painted this village red. I must implore that you and the child leave immediately. He’s escaped my touch for now but if he stays any longer I fear the many years of life he has left to live will be cut short. Too many have carried him to you with loving arms and last breaths, don’t let it be in vain.”

Phil bowed his head slightly. “I… I understand, Kristin… I hope to see your smile again, on a lighter and brighter day. Till then, I’ll cherish this with all I have.”

“My Angel…” Bit of shadow licked around him as he shivered in the pseudo-embrace. Her touch was deathly cold. “You know I’ll never be too far away.” Despite how the world shifted, Phil knew for certain their love could never change. As certain as the sun itself. 

But now, a new certainty came to him. A certainty that he and Tubbo would leave this place, and all its untapped pain, far behind. There was no other option.

As he burst from the shop, he looked around for the boy quickly. Phil was sure the last he saw of the kid, he was near the fountain. Dried blood hid under feet and scarcely splattered and spotted on buildings and benches. Figures stood still in the silent darkness of the windows, splayed across the floors or propped up, hidden, behind tables or chairs. Dead eyes watched Death’s Angel as he called out for the child, wondering if he too would soon join them. Even though Phil knew he would regret it, he outstretched his wings and took off, scanning Tanglewood for any signs of movement as he gritted his teeth through the pain. 

——————————————————————–

Tubbo didn’t like the silence as he walked up the path toward home. He could swear he saw eyes watching him from the forest just beyond. He hugged his bee plush tight to his chest as he stood tall, marching along as he tried to be brave. After all, he wasn’t scared of the monsters or the trees, they were scared of him! Even if he began to walk a bit faster down the path, he wasn’t scared. He was just trying to get there faster.

He was excited to see his father again and tell him how brave he was, how he saw wolves and dolphins, and all about Phil’s awesome wings. He smiled as he thought about how happy his Dad was gonna be to see him. What if Dad used one of his potions to make him wings, and maybe Phil could come to visit?! That would be so cool, to fly on his own. Maybe Phil could take him out to see more animals! He’s always wanted to meet a squid. They would give the best hugs, at least in his opinion. 

He briefly wondered how many patients came by today and if his Dad was tired. Well, if Dad was tired, he would just surprise him when he woke up. That would be the BEST surprise!

When he reached the garden, Tubbo paused.

Tubbo didn’t like the garden anymore. All the vegetables were gone, and the fence around it he helped paint was shattered and broken. The blue paint chipped and left dots along the grass that Tubbo couldn’t help but think looked a little pretty. Splinters littered the grass so much that they looked like seeds as Tubbo was careful to step around them. Father said never touch splinters, and to go get him if he saw one. The soil was overturned, smushed by foot tracks. Tubbo had half a mind to go find the culprit and tell them off - no one stomps on the soil! That was like, rule number one! But a small part of the kid’s heart broke in sadness after how hard they both worked on it, how much time they’d spent on it, all for someone to ruin it. 

Who would do something so mean?

His eyes were wet as his stomach flipped and flopped in uneasiness. It twisted itself in knots when he turned to look at the house. His house. Their house. Their home. His stomach sank as all the air left his lungs. Their small cottage made with glowing birch and oak, blue window shutters and flower boxes - reduced to nothing but charcoal cinders and ash. Black marked where chunks of the house once stood. The roof was completely gone, windows too. Only a few walls still were left standing, about halfway burned. It wasn’t home anymore. Tubbo hated the black. He hated this and wanted to be home. He wanted to be safe and warm and home… but he didn’t have a home anymore, did he?

A few tears slid down his cheeks as he hugged his plushie tight and ran toward the door, going to open it and twist the handle when it fell down in front of the kid. It’s hinges burned to goop and it’s pretty carved number design erased. Tubbo jumped back, out of the way, gasping in shock. It was really gone… all of it. Someone destroyed everything. They didn’t have anything anymore, except each other. Tubbo knew now more than ever he needed to find his Dad, they needed each other. How else could anything be okay anymore?

His bee plush was hugged so tight around his chest he began to gasp for air, craving the comfort hugs used to be able to give. He quickly rushed inside, looking around for his father desperately. “Dad? Dad?!” His shoes crunched against his father’s special important potion bottles, remains that littered the floor. What remained of the carpet was faded, half of the fabric burned, and with it all it’s magic. The fireplace was smashed in a few places, but most of the bricks stayed intact. The photos on the mantel were gone, though. Baby photos, photos of grandparents, and… the photo of Mom. “Dad… Dad, please, I need you…” He sniffled into his plush as he walked toward the remains of the fireplace.

Unfortunately, Tubbo didn’t have to look far.

His father was perched against the side of the fireplace, head slumped on his right shoulder. He looked pale, as pale as Tubbo once had when he was sick. His clothes were torn, crimson from injury. A crossbow bolt was lodged against his side and his left leg. The two puncture wounds still spilled red that slowly rolled down his body and to the dirt. His face was bruised and beaten, nose bloody. A sizable gash around his chest, spilling nothing but blood. 

No. No, he couldn’t be… surely not. He had… he had to get some… some potions. He had to get some bandaids. He had to get something, something to make it better. Dad always knew how to make everything better.

Tubbo screamed. Tubbo wailed. Tubbo shook his father’s body, vision blurred with nothing but tears.

“Dad… Dad please wake up, you’ve gotta wake up… please… please…” He sobbed, jostling his father’s shoulder as blood soaked into his clothes and his plush, not that he cared. “D-dad… please… you’ve gotta wake up… you’ve gotta…”

His father didn’t move.

“Please…” He whispered, begging. “Please…”

A woosh of wings created a breeze that dried his cheeks slightly. “Tubbo-” Phil.

“Phil, you’ve gotta help, he’s hurt, my Dad’s hurt! He’s… he’s…”

“Tubbo…” Phil’s voice was soft, filled with a sense of sadness for the kid one couldn’t easily name.

“He’s gotta wake up, he’s gotta…”

Phil didn’t say anything as he slowly approached the scene, knowing that nothing could be said. He kneeled next to the child, bowing his head at the stranger. A man he only knew from Tubbo’s stories, yet… a man he will miss. He turned his attention to Tubbo, who still clung to his dead father’s side. He looked over at Phil with pleading eyes, begging for the impossible. Phil couldn’t give it to him no matter how much he wanted to, all he could offer was something simpler.

A hug.

Tubbo sniffed as he sobbed, Phil pulling him into the embrace as he rubbed circles into his back. Tears welled up in the Angel of Death’s eyes, tears he couldn’t hold back as easily, not even after living a million lifetimes. 

Everything was gone.

——————————————

(Reworking my general taglist, lmk if you would like to be added!)

[rumor-imbris]

Unusual Muse Associations (Tag Game)

Thank you immensely, darling @nemo-my-name-forevermore for tagging me in this game! Here is her version <3

I will go with my Mary, of course ^-^ I hope you enjoy

MARY ANNE VICTORIA JENNINGS

SEASONING: Ginger, cinnamon and mint; her tea or any other comfort hot drink always has at least one of these, or all three together.

WEATHER: Autumn rainy day, a faint wind blowing golden, red and orange leaves around as they touch the ground and form a colourful carpet where she walks.

COLOR: Blackest black, like ravens feathering, and porcelain white, just like her hair and fair skin, inherited by her mother who was a noble woman from the Republic of Venice.

SKY: A dusky rainy sky, with some indigo, silver and violet spurts here and there.

MAGICAL POWER: Into an hypothetical fantasy AU, it would be... Entering people's dreams. I wrote a winter fairytale where she enters Connor's dreams through her moths. Also Empathy, something just like Star Trek TNG's Betazoid counselor Deanna Troi, in other words, the ability of feeling other people's emotions and feelings, which can be both a blessing and a curse!

HOUSE PLANT: She has baskets of dried flowers in her room to diffuse their scent, but she loves lilies and cactuses.

WEAPON: When her training gets more advanced, she gets a long double-sided curved blade which can be divided in two smaller blades. It was forged for her by the homestead artisan named Big Dave.

SUBJECT: Music, Singing, Art, Poetry, Literature. She is a classical trained musician; her instruments are the piano and the harp, though at the Davenport homestead she has the chance to practice on the glassharmonica, which she immediately loves! Her privileged education in England (by her severe governess, Mrs Weasley) allowed her to study many languages, sciences and literary works, as well as practicing drawing techniques, painting, embroidering and singing.

SOCIAL MEDIA: Probably Pinterest and Tumblr.

MAKEUP PRODUCT: Dark eyeshadow

CANDY: She's not into candies or sweet things. Maybe liquorice, though she would rather have dried fruits, almonds or walnuts.

FEAR: She's terrorized by spiders, scolopendras and all sorts of insects, as well as worms and larvas. But she also fears water. Because of a terrible experience when she was a little girl, she panics as the water reaches her chest when immersed for the fear of drowning. Also, I should mention her hideous vivid nightmares.

ICE CUBE SHAPE: She prefers not to have ice in her drinks! Might damage her throat.

METHOD OF LONG-DISTANCE TRAVEL: The Aquila, of course (◡‿◡)

ART STYLE: She loves to use the sfumato and chiaroscuro techniques in her portraits and charcoal drawings.

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: A siren, or a raven shape-shifter would suit her.

PIECE OF STATIONERY: Her charcoal pencils and origami hand-folded envelopes to fill with love letters to Connor (▰˘◡˘▰)

THREE EMOJIS: 🦋🌧️🎵

CELESTIAL BODY: Dwarf planet Sedna, Moon and Pulsars (neutron stars)

I hope you enjoyed knowing better my AC3 OC >‿‿◕

Tagging: @giuliettaluce @mazikomo @wildspeciallavender @susann-noir @empireofstarsandsmoke @followyourowncreed @hidden-blades-and-tomahawks @caraverie @scuderia-auditore-ghibli @embersatdusk @anne-lida and whoever sees this and wants to join the game! Forgive me if I forgot someone, but you all are welcome to join

Can't wait to read about your muses/OCs *-*

[howhow326]

Time to post my Bayonetta Lumen Sage oc who has been living rent free in my head out of pocket ;)

➤Name: Brother Hapi

➤Eyes: Hazel

➤Hair: Black, dreadlocks tied into a ponytail

➤Skin colour: Olive

➤Skin detail: Moist (~_•) ok but what was I supposed to say

➤Height: 5' 10

➤Scent: Rainy day smell

➤Birthdate: 1421 (Physical age: 20)

➤Zodiac sign: Cancer

➤Gender: Male

➤Pronouns: He/Him

➤Sexual orientation: Bi

➤Ethnicity: Black

➤Place of birth: Vigrid

➤Habits: Tiliting his head

➤Fears: Spiders

➤Triggers: Umbra Witches

➤Pet peeves: Fighting big demons

➤Soft spots: Sea food, lolipops

➤Goals 'n dreams: Avenge the Lumen Sages

➤Positive traits: Clever, Prudent

➤Negative traits: Moody, Smug

➤Hobbies: Flute playing

↛Backstory/History↚ At the young age of 12, Hapi was the son of a powerful Lumen Sage that was training with his father before they both got caught in the crossfire of the Clan Wars. While Hapi was willing to fight to protect his home, his father was not willing to allow his son to die. In a last minute attempt to protect his son, Hapi's father trapped him inside an Alfheim. It was in the Alfheim where Hapi met his angelic sponsor, Sapientia. While the angel normally had a low tolerance for trespassers, it made an exception for the boy when it learned of his strong magical potential... and desire for revenge. Togather, Sapientia finished Hapi's training over the course of what seemed to be 8 years. But when Hapi finnaly left the Alfheim, he found out that 500 years had passed and that the Lumen were exterminated. Consumed by his lust for vengeance, Hapi roams the land as a wandering demon hunter with the hope that he could soon find the last Umbra Witches and end the Witch Hunts once and for all... Bayo will then dominate him

➤Outfit: Color swapped version of Luka's Bayo 2 outfit because I like it a bit too much (White jacket & cowboy pants, sky blue V-neck, white fingerless gloves, gold Sage clock connected to a gold chain)

➤Colours: White, sky blue

➤Combat style: Weapon for light attacks, magic for strong attacks, arrows for shooting

➤Weapon of choice: Covenant Ark (Applaud's Bow)

➤Weapon origin: Gifted to Hapi by Sapientia

➤Powers: Light Arts, Beast Within, Light Speed, Holy Feathers (Sage version of Wicked Weaves), Celestial Feathers(Sage version of Infernal Weaves), Lumen Climax

➤Beast Within forms

Sprint form: Fox within

Glide form: Peacock within

Swarm form: Hummingbird within

Swim form: Mink within

➤Sage Pact: Sapientia

➤Techniques/Combos:

PPPPP (a five step two sword combo that ends with a fist slam from Sapientia)

KKKK (a four step water and ice spell combo that ends with an icicle strike from above. Each attack in the combo can be charged. The third and final attack can freeze enemies)

Gun (Hapi fires arrows from his weapon in bow form. Holding the button charges the arrows, which increases damage)

PKP (a three step weapon and spell combo that ends in a sword Holy Feather)

->->P (Sword lunge attack)

->->K (Hapi teleports backwards and attacks with the first step in his KKKK combo fully charged)

<-->P (Hapi summons a Holy Feather from underneath his target that launches them into the air. Dosen't consume magic orbs. If only I could actually code :( )

<-->K (Hapi notches a missle from Sapientia and fires it from his bow)

Jump P/ Jump K (Hapi stabs at his target while jumping which launches them)

●> P (A sword twirl attack knocks away enemies)

●> K (Hapi fires icicles in all directions which freeze enemies hit)

[jinx-jade]

April Angst and Fluff gift exchange

Angst-Prompt-2 “you remember?” “Of course I remember.”

I took a line of the song mercy out of context.

This is the result.

Part 1 of Mercy

for @celestial-void-the-3rd

______________________

The spotted vigilante looked around numbly.

There’s fire everywhere.

Injured, dead, frightened, sobbing, and mourning civilians of all ages were scattered amongst the rubble.

Buildings, sidewalks, and roads were broken, falling apart, and heavily damaged.

Yet the spotted vigilante was simply numb.

Far too used to seeing this level of destruction and death.

There was only a small difference between this and an akuma attack.

There is no miraculous cure.

The cure was only responsible for removing any trace that a miraculi was involved.

The only reason it reversed deaths, healed the injured, and restored the surrounding areas was because a miraculi had caused it in one way or another.

This?

This time the deaths are supposed to be permanent.

This time the destruction is supposed to stay.

Marinette looked at the other heroes, vigilantes, and magic users.

They all seem stiff.

Each of them seemed to have carefully placed a blank mask of neutrality on their features.

The only reason Marinette could even read their emotions was due to her time as Ladybug during Hawkmoth’s terror.

That thought alone strikes a bitter cord.

Marinette is not Ladybug, hero of Paris.

Not anymore at least.

She is Miracle, a mage, and a member of the Justice League.

No one in the League knows that she has the miraculi.

Marinette plans that no one ever will know that she has the miraculi in her possession until she gives up her title.

Not her friends, Dick, Babs, Jason, Cass, Tim, and Damian.

Not her family, Tom, and Sabine.

Not even her Fiancé, Jon.

Was it really worth keeping her title as guardian such a big secret when she can help?

Sure the miraculous cure won’t work, but the guardians had created a spell with the same effect.

Looking around again, Marinette clenches her hands in thought.

The spell requires four things.

The first, guardian blood to be used to draw the mark.

The second, read the incantation in the guardian’s tongue.

The third, read the incantation in your love’s tongue, be it, platonic love or romantic love.

The fourth, an unknown price.

Marinette had memorized this spell for a rainy day.

She never thought using it would be a real possibility, and she doesn’t know its price.

Taking a deep breath Marinette forced her body to relax.

Marinette moved from the spot she had been standing still in, effectively gaining the other JL members’ attention with the movement.

As Marinette walked with the attention on her, she bent down and picked up a discarded blade that probably belonged to one of the bats.

Marinette continued walking as she twirled the blade in her hands, arriving at the desired area.

She knelt down on an area of ground that was mainly clear, or at the very least, clear enough to draw the mark.

With all the destruction, crackling fire, and crumbling buildings, Marinette thought it would be too loud for herself to focus, yet at this moment, it was eerily silent.

Marinette didn’t look up from the ground, knowing that her resolve might break if she dared to look at the ones she cared for.

Taking in a deep breath Marinette quickly sliced a line from the crease of her elbow to the inner side of her writs.

She could hear the others question what she was doing but she ignored it as she let the blood run down to her hand.

Marinette began by drawing the outer circle of the mark before drawing the inner details, kneeling on the outside of the mark while her blood continued to run down her arm and into the symbols.

She began the incantation in the guardian’s tongue.

“Gnimusnoc lla eht ria edisni ym sgnul,” Marinette could feel her chest tighten with this line.

“Gnippir lla eht niks morf ffo ym senob,” Her skin began to burn as she had to keep herself from hissing out in pain.

“M’i deraperp ot ecifircas ym efil,” She could feel her eyes stinging, with tears or pain, she’s not sure. All Marinette could do was close her eyes tightly.

“I dluow yldalg od ti eciwt,” Marinette could vaguely hear someone call out to stop her.

Most likely one of the magic users since the guardian’s tongue was the same as a normal magic user's spells.

Marinette clenched her eyes a bit tighter.

Her love’s tough is English.

They would all know exactly what she’s saying.

Marinette opened her eyes when she felt Pollen’s magic being used.

She began to speak again, under the assumption that everyone who could possibly stop her is currently paralyzed.

“Consuming all the air inside my lungs,” she hissed out in pain.

“Ripping all the skin from off my bones,” Marinette can see how pale her skin is now, resembling porcelain in both color and warmth.

“I’m prepared to sacrifice my life,” She could see the marks of the Grand Guardian appear on herself. Her chest felt as it was being crushed under one of the buildings

“I would gladly do it twice” Marinette states, as she wabbled on her knees.

Marinette finally looked up, eyes meeting the eyes of her Fiancé, her love, before completely collapses, her head hitting the ground as she whispers a plea to any deity, spirit, fate, or balance that would listen. “Please have mercy on them.”

Marinette felt Pollen’s magic snap as someone finally broke through, the bee kwami not bothering to rebuild the spell.

She vaguely felt someone pick her up and hold her to their chest.

Panicked shouts, whispers, and sobs could be heard.

A flood of light appeared so bright that she could see it without opening her eyes.

With that, Marinette let her consciousness fade into darkness as she released the title of Grand Guardian to her successors.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Marinette gasped awake.

Her head was pounding.

What happened?

Oh.

That’s right.

She had used her life to cast a spell with the same properties as the miraculous cure.

Wait.

She remembered?

Of course, she remembered.

Why would anything she did go smoothly?

Looking around Marinette was met with the people of her temple and her successors.

“What’s going on?” Marinette questioned.

“We felt you transfer your title but something wasn’t right,” Manon said as she helped her sit up.

“So what happened?” Marinette questioned once again.

“The balance has laid claim to you, high priestess. While those you choose to succeed you now have your old title, you have gained a new” One of the elders answered.

Marinette let out a tired sigh.

"I am honored by the Balance,” Marinette claimed, resigning herself to her fate.

[mxvladdy]

Lucifer- True Form

Went ham. Had fun. Here is some angst (minor) and fluff and stuff.

Next up: Plot twist! Diavolo 

He wears the heaviest glamour out of all of the brothers. The rage and pain from being cast from heaven has warped his angelic body. Turning him into a husk of his former divine glory. He is massive. His body is tall and gaunt. His large form towers over the oak trees of the Devildom forest, each step of his gnarled feet leaving chard prints in their wake. Lucifer is deceptively strong for as emaciated as he looks.

After the war his body is in a constant state of trying to heal itself. His skin hardens into a thick scab before flaking off, only to reform moments later. His body trying to reform to its old self, even after he had fallen. It gives him an almost dripping look. When larger pieces flack off you can see stark white bones underneath for the briefest of moments before the darkness swallows it whole again. It is a continuous breaking and mending, a maddening itch and perpetual soul deep ache.

The halo that once sat righteously atop his crown is now embedded in it. It is buried deep into his skull and shattered after his fall to the Devildom. In a vain attempt to make it look better he filed and broke pieces away styling them the best his broken pride could. They resemble large branching antlers now, sharp and lethal. Ancient hymns lost to time that were engraved by his father when he was young are now worn and dingy, the text indistinguishable in part. It was a tarnished holy relic that only the foolish would try to take (And many souls from all three realms have tried). A few centuries ago he got the jagged edges capped and adorned with gold. Bright red garnet and jewels are interwoven in thin, but strong, gold chains drape over the distorted halo. It was a gift from Diavolo, as the prince somehow finds this form beautiful.

Like Mammon, he is littered with scars from battle not even his healing magic can mend. They have made him slower, the constant mending of his tattered flesh has made it grow stiff and subsequently stunts his range and movement. Scars layer upon scars across his body. Twisting in on themselves like bark. His own personal chains. The holes where he discarded his wings in an act of defiance are now blackened craters in his back. He is unable to heal those that are self inflicted.

You can hypothesize his inability to heal this form as a battle of will. His own mind and body in inner-turmoil, parts of him wanting to continue a torture he doesn’t deserve.  

It is fine, it is his burden to bear.

On the rare rainy days you can hear his joints creak and groan as his skin tears and reform. His bones grind together chillingly. He believes it is symbolic. His body groaning under the strain over-encumbered by the weight of his sins. All the brothers know to give him space on those days.

Even in his human glamour he wears stiff fabrics and corsets to help brace his body and give him an air of dignity even when he just wants to crumple at his desk.

He knew his actions in the celestial realm would have severe repercussions; but he never could have imagined it to be this abhorrent. This was truly the cruelest punishment his father could have ever bestowed on him. A form he can find no pride in.

Mini fic

Ugh. Everything hurt.

If the knot in your neck got any bigger you doubt you’d be about to move out of your chair. You close your textbook with a quick snap, done for the day. Any more drawn out paragraphs from magicians long since dead and you were going to scream. The hours in the school study hall had been beneficial but draining. The tutor on duty that day, a low-level demon named Drath, had taken a shine to your eagerness to learn and was more than willing to sit with you to talk out some of the more advanced runes you were struggling with. They had moved on to help a few more students after a while, pleased with your new understanding of Devildom magic. You stretch out in your seat, grunting softly as your spine pops. Tired of your studies you rise to perch at the window of the large room. The large windowsill overlooked the courtyard of the campus. A few students and professors run out in the courtyard trying to find shelter from the rain.

The sudden downpour had hit during lunch. The torrential downpour hammers at the windows and roof of the school. Trees and bushes tossed about in the high winds, flattened by the rain. Bright flashes of lighting blinding your eyes every so often making you blink the spots from your eyes to see the white board. Truthfully, the storm looked like it had settled on the school, happy to howl and pelt any unlocky souls with oversized raindrops. Shoot, you had hoped it would have waned by the end of classes. You hadn’t grabbed your raincoat or umbrella that morning. Cloudy days were common enough here, but rain? Has it ever rained while you were here? You peak at your phone, debating if you should text one of the brothers to come bring you an umbrella. Hmmm- you still had thirty minutes left before your study time was officially over. Maybe you’d get lucky and it would lighten up before you were forced to head back to the dorms.

You had made plans to go to the new outdoor cafe with Asmo and Beel after dinner. A little something to take you collective minds off the daunting midterms looming over you all. Lucifer’s warnings had been very clear. All residents of the house had to get good grades, no exceptions. His sharp eyes had lingered on Mammon and Asmodeus a little longer than the rest. You could feel the heat of his dark eyes even from your chair across the table. You weren’t a horrible study, but somethings just weren’t clicking like they should. It was a little stressful (a lot stressful). After a few nights of stress sobbing with Beel you had finally gone with Solomon to his study group. A few weeks of lessons and you felt much better. Good enough to celebrate. If the damn weather would take the hint.

As if the weather was attuned to your thoughts a huge flash of bright orange lightning cracked across the sky. It rattled the stained glass window, the light blinding you. Great. Blinking the white dots from your vision you turn back to your desk. Looks like you were just going to have to make a run for it.

“Forgot something?”

“Lucifer!” You smile accepting the large umbrella from his gloved hand. “Thanks! I didn’t know you were still on campus.”

“Yes. I had a few errands and meetings with Diavolo cramped in.” He looks down at you with a tight-lipped smile. In the bright light of the room you noticed beads of sweat forming on his smooth brow trailing down his temples. His eyelid pulsed, fluttering with his heart beat. If you hadn’t been staring you probably wouldn’t have noticed. You look at him, noticing how despondent his normal ridged prideful aura was. He stares blankly down at one of your large tomes struggling with the large clasps.

“Are you well?” Lucifer blinks, dropping the metal bindings as if burned. He licks his pale lips for a moment in contemplation. Something just on the verge of slipping out. But, it is quickly lost shuttered away behind his normal lofty expression.  

“What makes you say that?” He asks. Lucifer turns away from you to collect your things. “Come, We’ll be taking the back way to the house. It has better coverage and the storm has yet to reach it.” You follow behind quietly, waving a quick goodbye to Solomon and Drath.

The silence around Lucifer was different today. Normally he hid his agitation from you, only bringing it out if it was directed towards you. You’d only seen him like this when Mammon had done something foolish. “Lucifer, what’s wrong.” You try again catching his sleeve to pull him back. It all happened so fast. A sharp inhalation of breath, his arm jerked from yours. His whole being repelled by your touch. He rounds on you, eyes flashing dangerously. He never minded when you touched him before. “Luci?”

“Please,” He cuts you off with a trembling hand. “I am fine. Let’s get home before the storm worsens.”  He drops you off at the front stairs and excuses himself, muttering about other business to attend to. You stare after him deeply perturbed. He was never the most touchy-feely of the seven, but he was always straight with you after what happened with Belphie. To be so physically distant worried you.

He wasn’t at dinner. The head of the table was devoid of his strong presence. The other brothers seemed to be making an unusually strong effort not to look at the vacant spot. Even Satan, who you thought would be smirking at the fact the eldest had broken his own rules, sat eyes glued to a book perched in his lap. His golden spoon paused midway to his mouth. It was almost like nothing was amiss. “Is Lucifer o.k?” You turn to Levi, his head buried in his handheld, food halfway eaten. His fingers pause for a moment over his screen.

“Ye, he’s fine. Just doesn’t like the rain is all.” Oh. It doesn’t settle your worries but if no one else was stressing…

The storm lasted well into the night. The rolling thunder keeps you up well past when you should be sleeping. That and the annoying creaking that echoed out from your unlit fireplace. Or was it your window? The groaning and grinding sounds permeated the air of your room, picking up intensity at odd intervals. It reminded you of a swaying tree caught in a hurricane. Limbs twisting and snapping in the wind as it is battered from all angles, its thick trunk losing the fight to stay upright. The low grinding of it all resonating in your chest, deep and palpable. It was so loud, and the forest was so far away. Irritated, you push yourself out of bed, determined to find a place where the noise couldn’t reach you.

Pacing the long desolate hallways you try to retrace your steps to a lesser used room. Maybe steal one of Belphie’s favorite sleeping nooks. As you make your way down the hallways you begin to notice the sounds of the trees getting louder. Like you had suddenly found yourself in a grove of winding and dancing trees.  You take a sharp left determined to find the cause of the noise and put an end to it. In your frustration you almost missed the door left ajar. Mid stride you stop. Who would be up at this hour? Coming closer you recognize the door.

It was Lilith’s room. The warm glow of firelight pulsing on the velvet of the hallway rug. The groaning sound of trees comes from behind the ornate door. You bristle, if one of the brothers was setting up stupid prank this late at night you’d kill them.

The eldest of the brothers stood staring into the pits of the roaring hearth. His dark eyes were glassy. The reds of his iris reflect the dancing flames. He was completely obvious to your intrusion. Clothes lay scattered about the floor haphazardly, his shirt, vest and overcoat were thrown across the floor, pants hanging low on his narrow waist. Lucifer moves closer to the roaring flames with less then his usual grace. His left leg seems stiff, the knee unwilling to bend fully as he walks. In the magically created sunlight of the room you notice his alabaster skin shift and flicker, like a TV with a bad connection. One second it was smooth, the next chard rough patches litter his skin. The black welts and molting flesh flash before you then disappear. He croons deep in the back of his throat as the flames lick at his outstretched hand. Again the sounds of tree limbs snap assault your ears as he flexes his fingers.  

You stand rooted to the spot unsure of what to do. This was a very vulnerable moment for him you were sure. When was the last time you saw him with his body fully uncovered? Never. You really should give him some privacy. This was clearly not something he wished for anyone to see. Yet your heart wept for him. Lucifer was clearly in pain. Bare fingers digging large groves into the stone of the fireplace. His jaw twitching as sharp pains rack his body. “I know you're there.” He pins you in place with his husky voice. “It’s rude to stare.”

You stumble in, legs trembling. You could feel the rant coming. Bracing yourself you squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the torrent. Whatever he was going to say was cut short, a hitched breath making you look up. He is gripping at his side, unable to look at you. “Lucifer?” He raises his free hand to you, ignoring you to limp to the overstuffed armchair. He hunches over shielding his face in his large palms.

“It’s best if you forget you saw this. Please leave.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Leave.” He repeats again more firmly. “I wish to be alone.” He waves you off. You hear the creaking again. It moves with him.

“Is that you?” You ask. Watching him adjust himself in his seat. The sound of twigs bending to their max before snapping answer your question.

“Astute observation as always.” He grunts rubbing at his knee. “One would think Mammon is rubbing off on you.” His biting jab is dry. His eyes dart to the rainfall outside. His insult completely lacks his usual sting. But then again his barbs were always softened with you.

“It’s the rain isn’t it?” You ignore his blatant want for solitude, feed up with his stupid broodiness and unwilling to let a friend hurt. “My granddad was that same way. His joints would just ache and pop during really bad weather.” He puffs up for a second, comparing him to an old man twisted sourly in his gut. “Let me help?”

“How?” He whispers beyond tired suddenly. He had talked to Barbatos earlier that day. The storm was here to stay for the time being. A day or two at most. To him it would be an eternity. You approach, hands raised as if to a cornered animal. In a way he felt like it. He sits still, allowing you to approach. Lucifer chokes back a small whimper of bliss as you touch him. Your palms were so warm, resting and rubbing on his aching shoulder. He could feel his old bones settle; a brief moment of bliss.

“What do you need?”

He leads you to his quarters, letting you stop by your room to grab a few things on the way. You reappear from your room, shaking your rucksack at him with a smile. “I think some of these things might help!” Lucifer appreciated the sentiment but doubted it highly.

You were used to nights spent in his office, and a few rare occasions that he invited you to his bed chambers. That is where he led you now. His hand is large and warm on your back as he shuffles you past his bed and towards his walk in closet. You look about, confused at his vast collection of historical clothes and why you were in his closet to begin with. He smiles weary at your question but stays silent coming to stop at his wardrobe. He takes you through to another hidden room. The magic of the vast space making your skin tingle. Goosebumps blossoming on your arms and neck.

It was an unused part of the catacombs. Eons ago Lucifer had stumbled upon it in his explorations of his new home. It had long since become a mini sanctuary from when the odd storm got to his bones, or a brother had gotten under his skin. Large orbs float lazily across the vaulted ceiling. Knocking into each other with a soft tinkle of chimes. Their warmth was reminiscent of spring time back in the celestial realm. Already his old bones felt better. His mind unclouding.

His stride falters for a moment, polished dress shoes squeaking on the opulent marble. What was he going to do? Show you himself? “Lucifer?” He feels you turn to him, sliding his arm away from your back to grip it in your small hands. “Let me help you? Please?” You make eye contact and smile reassuringly.

His resolve breaks. Damn, when had he gotten so soft? “Help me with my jacket.” His words were muddled but clear. It was getting hard to rotate his right shoulder again. The storm was raging right over the house now and his body protested. He had redressed hastily in Lilith’s room. You may have seen him at his most vulnerable, but he would never let the brothers. If Satan saw, he’d never hear the end of it. You nod and walk behind him. Standing on tiptoes you help him shrug off his coat and fold it neatly to side with your belongings. The corset beneath was a little trickier for you. It was an ingeniously designed brace that doubled as a designer corset. You never noticed, but up close the silk of his corset was brocade. The black of the fabric was decorated with a subtle shiny black thread. To the naked eye one couldn’t see it. But you could feel it as you brushed your fingers along his waist. In the bright light of the room the thread shimmered in all of its intricacies.  

“They are runes.” He answers your silent question refusing to look at you as you worked, hyper aware of your fingers tracing the stitching. “It helps with-” the pain, the humiliation, my pride? “Everything.” You nod accepting his words and unlace it gently. He shivers at the soft caress, it was like his body gravitated towards your touch. His actual skin buzzing with want.

“Does this happen a lot?” You come to his front and begin on the buttons of his dress shirt.

“No, rainstorms like this are rare. Once every couple of centuries it gets- bad.” Lucifer leans some of his massive weight on you while you lift his arm out of the sleeve. “You are good at this.” He eyes you skeptically. How many people had the luxury of your undivided attention?

You chuckle turning to fold his shirt neatly. “Why thanks, I guess? Like I said my granddad had bad bones. I used to help him on the bad days.” You eye his pants and flush. “I won’t help with those though.”

“Pity. Give me a moment would you?”  The demon chuckles turning to give himself an illusion of privacy. Already being out of the cold and drafty halls made him feel better already. This room had been meticulously built to help him. Artificial sun, warm, and not too humid. A light draft in the rafters getting the air circulating. Spending the night down here, and he’d be able to function for tomorrow's numerous meetings. Closing his eyes he releases his glamour.

Shifting felt like breaching water. A slight resistance then a cool wave of relief as he breaches the surface. Resting on his hunches his rumbles low, feeling his broken halo scrap the vaulted ceiling. His little human gasps looking up, and up, and up till they meet his hollow skull like face. He holds his breath, gut and hearts clenching in fear. What must you think of him? He watches with trepidation knowing this body was a lot to comprehend. “Wow. I thought you were tall before.” You grab at your satchel digging into the depths. “I’m afraid my little jar won’t go far now, but I’d still like to try.” He leans down looking at the jar posed at the tips of your fingers.

“Tiger balm?” His voice was abrasive and jagged. The multilayered lilt scrapped your eardrums like metal on bone. You flinch. A slight twinge of your shoulders barely noticeable, but it makes him recoil nonetheless. It's jarring, but not as scary as you originally thought.

“Sorry,sorry.” You placate the giant beast. “Took me by surprise.” You creak a reassuring grin. “This whole day has. But that’s ok.” You meet his gaze, his oblong head cocked to the side to stare at you. Up close you could see that his eye sockets weren’t hollow as they originally appeared. Deep within the bone and flaking flesh you could see a faint pure white glow, a little pinprick in the abyss flickering like a candle. Taking his stillness as permission you wonder back over to his large taloned feet. The constant healing and chaffing of his skin creates a foul vapor around him. The plumes of it blocking out the sunning orbs in waves. It smelled awful, like burning hair, skin and sulfur. But you push through taking small breaths through your mouth till your body adjusted. You glance at the tiny jar in your hand feeling stupid. “I’ll have to order some more but I hope this helps.” Lucifer looks at your outstretched hand at a complete loss of what you expected him to do. “Well,” You gestate at him to come closer. “Where does it hurt the most?” He laughs. A dry clicking in the back of his many vocal chords. His back hurt the most, it always did. A consistent little reminder of what his past actions cost him. Though, there were some things he wasn’t ready to divulge to you.Yet.

“That little jar will do nothing. But-” He continues trying to cover for his snappishness. He hated the frown drawing tight on your lips. “I will be signing a lot of paperwork tomorrow.” He brings a massive hand down and places it on the cool marble in front of you. The joints were bare to you, the flesh unable to encompass the swelling. His phalanges felt cold and hot all at once. Sudden spasms making the exposed nerves light up and twitch. “If you could?”

Clambering up his table sized finger with his approval you straddle it and rub some of your ointment on your palms to warm it. “Let me know if I hurt you.” With that you sink your hands through the mist and begin to work at his tender joints. The great beast rumbles in enjoyment. His keen nose picking up the spicy scent of the balm and your naturally pleasant musk. Within minutes the warming ointment began to soothe him. Leaving you to your ministrations Lucifer arches his neck up to the sky and begins to sun himself. The tension of the rain storm rolling off his body as the sun globs begin to orbit around his massive frame. Your little hums of happiness as you worked made this almost worth the humiliation of you seeing him at his lowest.

[mytwilightimagines13]

Amnesia (Book Two)(Part One)(Alec Volturi

Everything was so clear. Sharp. Defined. The brilliant light overhead was still blinding-bright, and yet Maeryn could plainly see the glowing strands of the filaments inside the bulb. She could see each color of the rainbow in the white light, and, at the very edge of the spectrum, an eighth color she had no name for. Behind the light, she could distinguish the individual grains in the dark wood ceiling above. In front of it, she could see the dust motes in the air, the sides the light touched, and the dark sides, distinct and separate. They spun like little planets, moving around each other in a celestial dance. Maeryn found the dust was so beautiful that she inhaled in shock; the air whistled down her throat, swirling the motes into a vortex. The action felt wrong. She  realized the problem was that there was no relief tied to the action. She no longer had need for the air. Her lungs weren't waiting for it. They reacted indifferently to the influx. Even though Maeryn had no need for the air she breathed in, she liked it. In it, she could taste the room around her - taste the lovely dust motes, the mix of the stagnant air mingling with the flow of slightly cooler air from the open door. Taste a lush whiff of silk. Taste a faint hint of something warm and desirable, something that should be moist, but wasn't... That smell made Maeryn’s throat burn dryly, a faint echo of the venom burn. And most of all, she could taste an almost-rainy-rose-and-sun-flavored scent that was the strongest thing, the closest thing to her. Maeryn heard the sound of the others, breathing. Their breath mixed with the scent that was something just off rainy and roses and sunshine, bringing new flavors. Cinnamon, hyacinth, pear, seawater, rising bread, pine, vanilla, leather, apple, moss, lavender, chocolate.... Maeryn traded a dozen different comparisons in her mind, but none of them fit exactly. So sweet and pleasant. Maeryn heard that Demetri and Felix had finished playing their game as there was no longer the buzzing sound the TV made when it was turned on. She also heard a faint, thudding rhythm, with a voice shouting angrily to the beat while screaming guitars accompanied the singer. Rock music? Maeryn was intrigued  for a moment, and then the sound faded away like a car passing by with the windows rolled down. With a start, Maeryn realized that this could be exactly right. Could she hear all the way to the freeway? The freeway was quite far away from the castle as it was on top of a high in a quiet village. Maeryn hadn’t realized that someone was holding her hand until whoever it was squeezed it lightly. Like it had before to hide the pain, her body locked down again in surprise. This was not a touch she had expected. The skin was perfectly smooth, but it was the wrong temperature. Not cold. After that first frozen second of shock, Maeryn’s body responded to the unfamiliar touch in a way that shocked her even more. Air hissed up her throat, spitting through her clenched teeth with a low, menacing sound like a swarm of bees. Before the sound was out, her muscles bunched and arched, twisting away from the unknown. Maeryn flipped off her back in a spin so fast it should have turned the room into an incomprehensible blur, but it did not. She saw every dust mote, every splinter in the wood-paneled walls, every loose thread in microscopic detail as her eyes whirled past them. So by the time Maeryn found herself crouched against the wall defensively, about a sixteenth of a second later, she had already understood what had startled her, and that she had overreacted. Ofcourse, Alec would no longer feel cold to her. They were the same temperature now. Maeryn held her pose for an eighth of a second longer, adjusting to the scene before her. Alec was leaning across his kingsized bed, the bed that had been her pyre, his hand reached out toward her, his expression anxious. Alec's face was the most important thing, but Maeryn’s peripheral vision catalogued everything else, just in case. Some instinct to defend had been triggered, and she automatically

searched for any sign of danger. Maeryn’s vampire family waited cautiously against the far wall by the door, Felix and Demetri in the front. Like there was danger. Maeryn’s nostrils flared, searching for the threat, however she could smell nothing out of place. That faint scent of something delicious tickled her throat again, setting it to aching and burning. Jane was peeking around Felix's elbow with a huge grin on her face; the light sparkled off her teeth, another eight-color rainbow. That grin reassured Maeryn and then put the pieces together. Demetri and Felix were in the front to protect the others. What Maeryn hadn't grasped immediately was that she was the danger. All this was a sideline. The greater part of her senses and my mind were still focused on Alec's face. It seemed as if she had never seen it before this second. How many times had she stared at Alec and marveled over his beauty? How many hours - days, weeks - of her life had she spent dreaming about what she then deemed to be perfection? She thought I'd known his face better than her own. She'd thought this was the one sure physical thing in her whole world: the flawlessness of Alec's face. Maeryn may as well have been blind this whole time. For the first time, with the dimming shadows and limiting weakness of humanity taken off her eyes, Maeryn saw his face. She gasped and then struggled with her vocabulary, unable to find the right words. At this point, the other part of Maeryn’s attention had ascertained that there was no danger here besides herself, and she automatically straightened out of her crouch; almost a whole second had passed since she'd been on the table. Maeryn was momentarily preoccupied by the way her body moved. The instant she'd considered standing erect, she was already straight. There was no brief fragment of time in which the action occurred; change was instantaneous, almost as if there was no movement at all. Alec moved slowly around the bed - each step taking nearly half a second, each step flowing sinuously like river water weaving over smooth stones - his hand still outstretched. Maeryn watched the grace of his advance, absorbing it with her new eyes. "Maeryn?" he asked in a low, calming tone. Maeryn could not answer immediately, lost as she was in the velvet folds of his voice. It was the most perfect symphony, a symphony in one instrument, an instrument more profound than any created by man. "Maeryn, amore mio? I'm sorry, I know it's disorienting. But you're all right. Everything is fine. No one is going to hurt you. You are safe here. I promise." Everything? Maeryn's mind spun out, spiraling back to her last human hour. Already, the memory seemed dim, like she had watched through a thick, dark veil - because her human eyes had been half blind. Everything had been so blurred. Alec reached out tentatively and stroked his fingertips across her cheek. Smooth as satin, soft as a feather, and now exactly matched to the temperature of her own skin. His touch seemed to sweep beneath the surface of her skin, right through the bones of her face. The feeling was tingly, electric - it jolted through her bones, down her spine, and trembled in her stomach. However, the dry feeling in her throat worsened every time she took a breath of unneeded air. She hissed slightly in annoyance and realised what was happening. She was a newborn vampire. The dry, scorching ache in her throat gave proof to that. Maeryn heard a heart beating, and could hear the delicious flow of the blood it was pumping around. It made her throat only burn fiercer, more violent. Maeryn hissed again and wrapped an hand on her throat, trying to find a way to sooth the pain, but she knew only that sweet nectar could help her out. Alec frowned slightly but realised soon enough why his mate was hissing. Thirst. He looked at his masters who both where smiling. “Go ahead my boy, just make sure to not hunt in Volterra.” Aro said “Take your time. She needs to be well fed before training starts. We’d like to begin as soon as possible.” Caius said. Alec nodded his head and

turned his attention back to his mate, who started to lose her control. She needed that sweet nectar. Everything in her body screamed for her to run to it and sooth the pain she felt in her throat.  "Shall we?" Alec asked. He reached up to take the hand that was still at her neck. His fingers smoothed down the column of her throat. "I don't want you to be hurting," he added in a low murmur. Something she would not have been able to hear before. "Okay." Maeryn answered, using her new voice for the first time. The sound that left her lips surprised Maeryn. She was so surprised that she forgot her thirst for a second. Her eyes where wide. The voice wasn’t hers, yet it was. It was smooth, silk like and singing. How the voice of an angel would sound like. "Wait, wait, wait," Jane trilled from the doorway. She danced across the room, dreamily graceful. "You promised I could be there the first time! What if you two run past something reflective?" "Jane - ," Alec protested. "It will only take a second!" And with that, Jane darted from the room. Alec sighed. “Give her the pleasure, my dear one. She has been waiting for four days.” Aro said. Alec nodded his head in agreement. Maeryn was confused for a second, but Jane was already back, carrying the huge, gilt-framed mirror from her room, which was nearly twice as tall as she was, and several times as wide. Felix had been so still and silent that Maeryn had taken no notice of him since he'd followed behind Aro. Now he moved again, to hover over Jane, his eyes locked on Maeryn’s expression. Because she was the danger here. “Alec promised me I could be there when you saw your reflection for the first time. It is quite an important thing for a vampire, especially a girl.” Jane explained. Alec rolled his eyes slightly. “I believe her thirst is more important than her reflection right now.” He protested. “Oh shush you. You can hunt in a minute.” Jane said. Maeryn however was only aware of this exchange with the lesser part of her concentration. The greater part was riveted on the person in the mirror. Her first reaction was an unthinking pleasure. The alien creature in the glass was indisputably beautiful, every bit as beautiful as Jane or Chelsea. She was fluid even in stillness, and her flawless face was pale as the moon against the frame of her light, caramel gold, heavy hair. Her limbs were smooth and strong, skin glistening subtly, luminous as a pearl. Her second reaction was horror. Who was she? At first glance, Maeryn couldn't find her face anywhere in the smooth, perfect planes of her features. And her eyes! Though she'd known to expect them, her eyes still sent a thrill of terror through Maeryn. All the while Maeryn studied and reacted, her face was perfectly composed, a carving of a goddess, showing nothing of the turmoil roiling inside her. And then her full lips moved. "Well, the eyes are sure bright red." Maeryn whispered.  "But what do you think?" Jane asked, a little impatient now, pointing to the mirror. "I'm not sure," Maeryn hedged, not wanting to admit how frightened she really was. Maeryn stared at the beautiful woman with the mesmerizing eyes, looking for pieces of herself. There was something there in the shape of her eyes - if you looked past the dizzying beauty, it was true that her right eye was slightly more pointed to the right than her left eye, though not very noticeable if you didn’t know it. Finding this familiar little flaw made her feel a tiny bit better. Maybe the rest of her was in there, too. Maeryn raised her hand experimentally, and the woman in the mirror copied the movement, touching her face, too. Her crimson eyes watched Maeryn warily. It was quite a lot to take in all at once. Alec sighed. Maeryn turned away from her reflection to look at him, raising one eyebrow. "Disappointed?" she asked, her voice beautifully smooth. He laughed. "quite the opposite," he admitted. “I am afraid I may be even more possessive now. You are absolutely beautiful. More beautiful than the prettiest flower ever frown on this planet.” Alec said and wrapped

his arms tightly around Maeryn’s newly frozen form, pressing his lips against her cheek. Maeryn felt better at once, but the burning sensation returned in her throat. "Can we hunt, please?" Maeryn asked, a thrill of nerves and anticipation making her stomach quiver.

[voidstilesplease]

For @steoevents' SteoVDay

The Quest for Eros' Wayward Arrow (a demigod Valentine's au :)

Tags: 1.7k word count, fluff (??), Isaac's here, vague kinda confession but they get it, so are they together now? who knows.

I pretty much gave up on making an aesthetic for this one, so here's a cute gif I found on Google instead. It fits, I guess, since this is my last arrow! Happy Steo Valentine's everyone 💕

---

Walking the wet pavement on his way to his apartment, Stiles reaches inside his hoodie for his dagger, eirènè. His senses are tingling, alerting him that something is off - something is following him. Inconspicuously, he bumps against a stranger in an excuse to turn around, half-heartedly apologizing, while his eyes scan the space behind him. Nothing suspicious to the common eyes. Then again, monsters lurk behind the Mist.

He pulls the hood over his head and continues walking, his pace faster this time. February in New York is cold, rainy, and with the possibility of snow, but hundreds of people still walk around the city, trickling in and out of establishments. It's going to cause a ruckus if there is a monster trailing Stiles. But it's better to end it before it starts.

Passing by a flower shop with reflective glass panes, he spots it - a disturbance in the atmosphere as it knocks back a potted plant from the sidewalk. Stiles thinks he also hears noises and grunts. Facing forward, he sets his jaw and straightens his spine to get ready. Stiles's fingers close around tightly on eirènè, veering from his direction and turning sharply into an alley, walking faster, leading himself and his pursuer deep into a more deserted location. Up ahead, he finds a narrower passageway, and he makes another turn toward it.

Seconds later, he hears an empty can rattling. He shoulders off his school bag and chucks it to the ground unceremoniously. Then, he pounces.

•••

What he finds himself holding his blade against is not a monster, though. It's Theo in the camp's orange T-shirt, choking on Stiles's arm around his neck. When he realizes who it is, Stiles quickly releases his grip. He stares at the boy wide-eyed, in a mix of confusion and anger.

"What," Stiles gapes as Theo bends to cough. "What are you doing here?" Stiles's arms flail. "And why are you following me? I could've hurt you, you know, dumbass."

Theo points an accusing finger, still coughing a little. "Hey," he glares, rubbing his throat with his other hand. "I slipped a note in your pocket."

Stiles frowns. Someone had slipped a note in his pocket, but that was back at school. "You've been following me since school? I thought it was just a random Valentine's note from-" he cuts himself abruptly. It's probably unwise to be talking to Theo about a nameless admirer.

But Theo is already narrowing his eyes, "Who's giving you Valentine's notes?"

"Hey," another voice grunts out of thin air, male, startling Stiles to action, raising his knife again and making a defensive stance. He sweeps his eyes around but sees nothing. It speaks again. "Could you cancel the glamour now before Stiles sticks his knife to my forehead?"

The accent and dry tone is familiar, and just when Stiles places the voice to its owner, Theo touches an empty space with a sigh, and Isaac, son of Aphrodite, appears of thin air, holding a limp-

"Why are you carrying an empousa?" Stiles cries incredulously, looking alarmingly at the unconscious shapeshifter. It's female with a beautiful face but hideous one hairy donkey leg and the other a prosthetic one made of Celestial bronze - and lying like a sack of flour over one of Isaac's shoulders.

Theo steps forward, pursing his lips. "We're on a quest, Stiles." he says, "And we need your help."

•••

"So, let me recap," Stiles says after Theo and Isaac finish explaining a bit of the situation. "Somehow, a group of empousai got hold of one of the god Eros's magical love arrows." Stiles looks at the two demigods for confirmation. When they both nod, he continues. "And now, they're using that arrow to bewitch young men into entering this blind dating thing where these vampire ladies could suck the poor, loveless guys dry?"

Isaac nods, shifting the limp empousa onto another shoulder. Stiles grimaces at the creature. "Eros called in a favor from my mother to send a quest to retrieve it. Aphrodite appeared to me to do the quest. Ares bonked Theo in the head-" Theo rolls his eyes hard at this. It's a marvel how Theo is an expert at eye-rolling now. He must have picked it up from Stiles someone. "-to come with me. Now, we're on a mission to take back our shared brother's magic arrow on this fine day of hearts and roses. It's all very lovely."

Theo gives Isaac a flat book before turning to Stiles, "Hecate explains that she can't stop the nature of her children, but that she can assist." Theo takes a purple pouch from a front pocket and shows it to Stiles. "The goddess had Lydia send this to us. Invisibility dust. We have enough for the three of us to come in undetected into the building where the empousai are holding the blind dates. At least, for a few minutes."

"What perfect occasion to seduce desperate men to their deaths other than Valentine's Day, huh?" Isaac quips from behind them, grinning dryly.

"Okay," Stiles says nodding, "and why do you need my help exactly?"

Theo pauses for a second, caught off-guard, recovers, then shrugs casually, "You're a very skilled demigod, and from around the area."

Isaac snorts loudly.

"Shut up, Isaac," Theo grinds his teeth without turning to him.

The empousa on Isaac's shoulder shifts and moans, but Isaac commands her to sleep again. She hangs limply once more - just like that. Charm speaking is handy and definitely scary.

Theo shakes his head, exhaling a long-suffering sigh. When he looks at Stiles, he puffs his chest and straightens as if he's about to reveal a life-altering secret. "It's true. We can use your battle expertise. But there's also something else," Theo takes another pause. "The presence of Eros's arrow won't beguile only four people: his children, children of Aphrodite, Hecate's children because it's currently under enchantments by the goddess' followers, and-" he stops again, wetting his lips. "anyone touching or near someone they're in love with."

For a second, Stiles stops breathing, quickly understanding the implication. It still throws him off-kilter, though. Did Theo really just-

"So," Theo speaks again, stepping closer, looking into Stiles's eyes. "I need you with me in this quest."

Isaac makes another impatient noise in the background, but Stiles cannot focus on anything else at the moment. His vision tunnels on Theo and the honesty in his eyes.

Finally, swallowing with butterflies in his stomach, Stiles finds his voice. "How do you know it will work on you?"

For a moment, Theo looks confused. Then, he laughs at the question as if it's ridiculous that Stiles even asked. "It will," he says with absolute certainty that his eyes are bright with it. "After all, it worked on Calypso's island. I have zero doubts."

At the mention of Calypso's island, Stiles becomes aware of the cold pendant of Theo's Christmas gift, sitting on his collarbone with the words for bringing me back from Ogygia where three azurite stones sit as proof of the mythical island's existence. And how Theo came back from it. Stiles's hand reach unconsciously to feel it, now familiar to his skin after over a month of wearing it with his camp beads.

Theo's eyes track the movement, smiling when he realizes what Stiles is touching. It's the first time Theo sees it on Stiles.

Stiles clears his throat, forcing down the heat rising to his face, only faintly aware of Isaac murmuring behind them - probably charm speaking pedestrians to walk the opposite direction or just muttering to himself about the delay. From the corner of his eyes, Stiles sees the son of Aphrodite move the empousa to the other shoulder again. But it feels as if it's happening miles away from him and Theo. Hands falling to his sides, he puts eirènè back to its sheath. Then, Stiles opens his mouth and asks, "How do you know it will work on me?"

Theo falters at that, studying Stiles's face as he considers the question. Then, his gaze drops to where the pendant is and flicks back up with a reply, "Won't it?"

Stiles bites the inside of his mouth to stop the dumb smile threatening to break through his face. But he knows his eyes must be laughing because Theo grins dopily at him, taking cue from his reaction, making Stiles's insides somersault in a giddiness he only ever knew with the son of Ares, of all people.

"You guys are pathetic," Isaac comments, and it's without heat that Stiles kindly tells him to shut up.

"All right," Stiles announces cheerfully after a few seconds of daffy staring, feeling like a total dork. He picks and hoists his school bag on his back. Belatedly, he thanks the Fates that he left all his textbooks in his locker. "Let's go, then."

"Finally," Isaac grumbles, opening his palm expectantly for the pouch of invisibility dust. "Do you realize I've been carrying her for a while now? This girl smells like a fried donkey."

Theo passes it to him, not losing the silly smile on his face, then fishes something from his back pocket. "Here," he hands it to Stiles.

Stiles takes the object. It's- "A Valentine's card?" He asks in amusement, but his heart is dancing in his chest, and he wants to melt inside, giggling. Di immortales. He can deal with cocky, short-tempered, impulsive, asshole children of the War god, but he can't handle the sappy ones. Stiles wants to swoon like no respectable son of Athena should. It's as disconcerting as it's pleasant.

Theo shrugs, looking so attractive with his eyes alight in happiness instead of fury. "At least, I get to give it to you this time. Happy Valentine's Day, son of Athena."

"Are we going or what?"

Stiles allows himself to laugh then, ignoring Isaac. Really, he should be more excited about this development. Aren't children of Aphrodite notoriously enthusiastic about match-making and romances? Stiles opens his backpack to keep the card in safety. He feels inexplicably light at the moment that he thinks he might float. Gods, he never knew he missed Theo, but he desperately did.

"Happy Valentine's Day, son of Ares," Stiles answers, taking Theo's hand when he extends it. "Now, let's go put some bloodsuckers back to Tartarus."

Theo smirks, brandishing his free hand in the air to conjure a weapon, a skill he now artfully masters. Instantly, a celestial bronze sword appears in his hand, folding smaller and smaller until it's nothing but a ring on his finger. It's so fucking hot. "It's a date."

~•~