#the last piece of fanart says “halt!”

[keip]

i made 3 pieces for the @anizinesinc !! working on these were really fun !! go check out everyone else who contributed to the mob pyscho zine :))

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 5

Word Count ~5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content, mild body horror and violence

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

The power is restored later that evening.

You are still sitting on the living room sofa before it happens, still tucked against the doppelgänger. Listening to the death of the storm outside. Watching the gray light oozing through the windows grow dimmer.

“How far did you walk to get here?”

“Not far. The delivery truck broke down about a mile from your house.”

“I’ll give you a ride back into town tomorrow, then. You’ll need to get it repaired as soon as possible.” It was strange, planning things with the imposter like this. As if you were truly allies and not sworn enemies. “What are you going to do once you move back?”

“I haven’t decided my next course of action yet.” His thumb is caressing the line he’d carved on your arm. Gentle, absent strokes.

A blossom of light suddenly illuminates the room. Electricity. You sigh with relief, straightening. You notice your panties still lying on the floor where he’s discarded them. The things that had seemed forgiveable in the darkness now feel indecent under the lighting. Like you’re being judged for your transgressions.

You look at what had once been Francis Mosses and your heart turns over again. And this is why you’ve done it; all of it. Because the sight of him instantly weakens you. You can’t help yourself.

His clothing, still in a state of half-on, half-off, is rumpled, still dirt stained from his trek to your house.

“I’ll draw you a bath,” you say. “While I make dinner.”

He rises, hastily fastening the button of his fly so the work pants don’t drop to the floor. The belt buckle he leaves as it is, the end with the metal piece jingling as he walks, following you up the stairs. The farmhouse squeaks in protest with each step. A heavy tred, though the milkman had never seemed anything but lean. Perhaps what was dwelling inside lent the extra weight.

You turn the lights on as you go, making sure every corner is devoid of shadows. There’s a tiny linen closet in the hall you retrieve a bath towel from. You’re considering what clothing you might have that he could wear while you wash his. Something a former boyfriend had left behind, maybe. You lean and turn the faucets of the claw foot tub on, testing the water temperature and adjusting accordingly.

“I have to find something for you to wear. Just leave everything on the sink and I’ll wash it for you.” You’re about to exit the room when he halts you, fingers lightly closing over your forearm. The previously injured one.

His lips touch yours. Just once. Just for the feel of it, to place a reminder there. You were his.

The deceiver releases you, working on the buttons of his work shirt’s cuffs. You duck out of the bathroom, making your way to your dresser. Nearly every piece of furniture in the home is hand made, built to last. Solid pine, the scent of it still strong after all these years as you begin rummaging inside. There, at the bottom. Shoved way back. Undershirt, briefs.

You snatch at them and return to the other room. Finding the imposter nude, standing beside the tub. You blush, not looking directly at him as you shut off the faucets. You test the temperature a final time and decide it’s safe.

“Soap, shampoo. Here’s a wash cloth.” You point out the items. Wondering if these creatures ever bathed. If cleansing their true form was ever a concern.

One foot sinks into the water. The other follows. He sits down slowly. A little sigh escaping at the feeling of soaking in the warmth.

“I’m going to go start supper.” You close the door softly behind you, descending the stairs. Considering your options for a meal. You’d never gotten a chance to check the garden earlier, so fresh vegetables were out. Canned ones, then. Green beans and instant mashed potatoes from the box. Leftover meatloaf from the previous evening. A quick, easy meal to prepare. Your eyes linger on the bottle of milk in the refrigerator. Not from Francis’ company, but a reminder nonetheless. You shut the fridge again after grabbing the necessary ingredients, then preheat the oven.

It doesn’t take long to get things ready. How strange to see two place settings on the oak kitchen table. You hadn’t had company over in a long time.

Still no appearance from your current guest. You walk to the foot of the stairs. “Francis! Dinner is ready.” You were still unsure how else to address him. It just seemed easier to call him that. If it bothered him, he didn’t reveal it.

The pretender returns just as you’re pouring two glasses of iced tea. You’ve never seen Francis with wet hair; it lies so dark and flat when it’s wet. The clothing you’ve lent doesn’t quite fit right, a little loose on the shirt and tighter on the material clinging to his hips.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything better to offer you. I wasn’t expecting…”

“It’s fine.” He holds out a hand, turning it over to stare curiously at new wrinkles along each digit.

“You pruned up. Spent too long in the water,” you explain. “How was the bath?”

“Enjoyable.”

“Good. Have a seat.” You drag the chair out slightly and he finishes the task, settling at the table about to be laden with food.

The dark eyes follow your movements around the kitchen. Potholders in hand as you remove the reheated dish from the oven. It seems too quiet in the house. You wish you had switched on the radio in the living room. Just for the comforting sound of background noise. Something to soothe your frayed nerves.

You sit across from your guest after you’ve filled both your plates. He still hasn’t touched anything. Hesitant. Waiting. And then you realize it. Francis would have said grace. You close your eyes and bow your head, reciting the words. “Bless us, oh Lord, for these thy gifts that we're about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord, Amen.”

A soft echo of the last word. You wonder if it would be considered blasphemy, what you’ve just done. The invader participating in it. You’ve never been overly religious yourself. You suppose you’ve committed far worse transgressions than this one over the course of the day.

The dark haired creature lifts a spoon and takes a tentative scoop of the white mixture, bringing it to his mouth. Considering the taste. “Good.”

You realize you’re starving and you dig in. Stabbing the loaf and cutting off a piece, blowing on it to make sure it’s cooled enough before taking a bite. Still moist. Your grandmother’s recipe. The figure on the opposite side of the table mimics your actions. “Careful. Don’t burn yourself. It’s still hot.” You hate burning your tongue. That awful soreness, the awkward numb feeling.

It doesn’t take long for the imposter to clear his plate. “Seconds?” He nods and you push back your chair, lifting his plate and returning to the counter. The glass he refills himself from the pitcher on the table. “Have you eaten before this?”

“Yes. But it wasn’t…” He pauses. “Different than this.” He seems reluctant to elaborate and you’re not sure you want him to, so you let the subject matter drop, setting another helping before him and retaking your seat.

You struggle for a safe topic of conversation. Everything you think of, each query you seek answers for, seem anything but. This domestic peace between you feels fragile. You’re not sure how long it will last.

After the meal concludes you bring your dishes to the counter and the false milkman copies your actions, piling them next to yours beside the sink. You let the water run hot and then plug the drain, filling the sink halfway. You squeeze a generous dollop of dish soap from the bottle tucked on the rim of the porcelain basin. A little too generous, maybe. There are a few little iridescent bubbles that drift through the air in front of you.

One arm tucks around your waist from behind. Lips beside your ear. You struggle to scrub the plate in your hands, your heart pounding. A throbbing further down. Still hungry for him.

He hums Francis’ song. You feel tears welling in your eyes again. The dish you set in the drying rack nearly falls, your wet fingers clumsy.

“Did he suffer?”

The humming stops. “What?”

“Francis. When you took him over. Was it quick, at least?”

“Yes.” He could be lying, of course. But why would the alien care about your own comfort?

You pull the drainer from the sink and the water level begins descending, the last of it suctioned inside with a loud squelching noise. He’s still holding you. His breath warm by your cheek.

You can see nothing through the window above the sink. You stare at that void, blinking away the tears.

***

You’d forgotten about the bloodstains on Francis’ work shirt.

You’ve just begun lathering the fabric with soap in the bathroom sink upstairs when you notice the incriminating flecks.

Hydrogen peroxide will remove them. Erase those traces of the milkman’s lifeforce that had spattered upon his surrender.

It makes you want to weep again.

Once your chores are completed you take your own bath.

You don’t linger. You’re thinking of the doppelgänger resting in the chair in the corner of your bedroom. Trying to figure out where he’ll spend the night. The living room couch, maybe.

The mirrored medicine cabinet is clouded when you emerge. You swipe at it ineffectually with your towel, still damp from your body. The one the creature had used lying in a pile on the floor by the tub. You toss it into the hamper before dragging a comb through your hair and brushing your teeth. Hastily sliding into a sleeveless nightgown. Tiny lilacs printed on the fabric. You have them growing in the side yard, the perfumed scent when they’re in bloom wafting over you when you walk by. You touch the purple satin bow at the scooped neckline. A delicate little detail.

Those dark eyes watching you as you begin to strip the bed. He moves to assist you in stretching a fresh fitted sheet over the mattress. You can hear the drip of the water from Francis’ clothes hung to dry over the tub in the next room.

He sits on the side of the bed while you rub moisturizing lotion into your elbows, over your hands and arms. Legs once you’re seated on the opposite side. He’s moved so that he’s propped upright against the carved headboard, lower limbs stretching out along the length of the bed. Inviting himself in. Maybe it was better this way. At least you could keep an eye on him. Not worrying and wondering what he was doing downstairs all evening.

You switch off the lamp on the nightstand and lie down. Hear him scoot lower until he’s resting next to you. There’s just a top sheet at the foot of the bed. It’s really too warm for more than that. Through the cracked bedroom window you can hear the crickets chirping near the foundation outside. You turn away from him, reclining on your side, facing the wall. Willing your eyes to shut, to get some rest.

Succeeding.

You awaken and it’s still dark in the room. There is a hand on your bare shoulder, stroking circles along your deltoid muscle, grazing the path where your neck meets your shoulder, dipping into the hollow above your collarbone.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, and you hold your breath. Wondering again over how fast your body reacts to his touch, to his voice, to everything. “What are you doing to me?” As if you are the one caressing him in the middle of the night and not the other way around. “What is this feeling…this ache…”

You turn onto your back. He reaches blindly for your face. Following the angle of your jaw. His thumb seats in the dip in the edge below your bottom lip and he tugs gently, your mouth opening. His mouth finds yours. Tongue slithering between. You whimper. Your fingers seed in his hair. Still slightly damp. Refusing to dry in this humidity. He reaches for the hem of your nightgown, sliding the cotton material upward. Immediately at your panties, eagerly working inside. A heavy sigh of satisfaction from him. You gasp, your legs falling open. So wet already. Your body not caring if this isn’t really the man you love. It wants this. It craves this forbidden touch.

He’s so, so good at the touching. Retaining everything you’d showed him previously. Expertly manipulating your clit. Thrusting inside of you. You moan into his mouth. The side of his throat. You lap at that skin. Rough now. The first pricks of new growth of facial hair coarse against you.

“My sweet girl. Mine. You’re mine.” You do not protest. Your hips are lifting, grinding you against his fingers. It doesn’t take long to find your release. Your nails rake his back. The praise spills from his lips. The claims that you belong to him continue. His possession. His. To do with as he wishes. “Touch me, love. I need you.”

You find his cock leaking against the tight fitting underwear. You shove at the elastic top, releasing it partially from its confines. Stroking. He shifts positions, resting on one forearm. Fucking into the tight ring of your fingers. “Francis.” He’s not him, he never will be, but it’s so easy to pretend when it’s like this. In the dark and the heat of the summer weather, from the exchange between your bodies.

“I want to be inside of you. I want…I want…”

His breath shudders and his hips stutter as his orgasm rocks through him. Spilling hot seed over your fingers. The mattress dipping and creaking as he drops his full weight down onto it. You slip out of bed, padding barefoot into the hallway to retrieve a wash cloth. Washing your hands at the sink in the bathroom before bringing the dampened material back to the imposter in your bed, dragging it over his skin until you’re satisfied he’s clean.

You leave the soiled cloth on the nightstand, lying back down with your back to him again. He pulls you against him. The curves of your bodies fit together like spoons resting stacked in a silverware drawer. Your hands rest on the forearms curled around your torso. Feeling the threads of his body hair. He breathes your name into your neck and you shiver. There are still so many hours before dawn.

***

The week of your suspension passes quickly.

Francis’ doppel has already moved back into the apartments. Calls made. To the milkman’s employer. To the DDD director. He says he seemed placated, but you know better. They’ve been alerted. They’re going to be watching him closely. Both of you.

You like having him visit your home far more than you should.

It’s beginning to feel comfortable. A routine developing. He helps you sand and repaint the front porch once the weather is no longer humid. Tending to the garden. Mending the fence bordering the side yard. Replacing the broken bracket for one of the pantry shelves. Tightening the gasket under the kitchen sink when you hear water dripping during dinner one evening. There are endless repairs when one owns a home. Especially one of this age. It’s strange to see the imposter working so diligently to maintain it.

Stranger still how much you enjoy him in your bed.

There are many kisses and touches. Moments of taking each apart with hands and mouths. You learn each other’s bodies. You know he wants even more of you. You want it, too. But you’re reluctant. For so many reasons. Fearing an accidental pregnancy not the least of them.

The guilt of betraying the real Francis that still haunts you.

***

Your replacement as doorman had not been very tidy.

The desk is cluttered with papers, confiscated entry requests and identification cards. Pens no longer in their cup beside the phone. The day’s listing taped sloppily to the wall beside the window so it hangs at an angle.

You spend some time rearranging things. Restoring order. Internally, you’re trying to get yourself back into the right frame of mind. You have a duty to protect the residents. The replicants are not welcome. Never to be trusted. Francis’ copy is the only exception.

You shouldn’t be making it.

He’s there at your window later that day. Looking tired. Thrusting his ID and paperwork through the narrow slot at the base of the glass. Merely for show, of course. There is a security camera inside the office now. That video feed being constantly monitored by a DDD member. You’ve already warned him about it.

There’s an extra piece of paper beneath the entry request form. A small scrap with a torn edge. You tuck it into your palm quickly before reviewing his documents, then handing them back with a smile before pressing the door to allow him to enter.

You make a show of shifting some papers, your back to the camera as you quickly unfold the secret message. An invitation to come to his apartment once your shift is over. It wasn’t wise to draw attention to him. But you find yourself unable to resist the offer. You see the pilot that lives near Francis leaning in the open doorway of his residence as you exit the elevator after your workday ends, smoking a cigarette.

“Mr. Rudboys,” you greet him, nodding. “I’m just dropping off some paperwork for Mr. Mosses.”

He grunts, a smirk twitching his thin lips. “Sure you are, doll.”

Your spine stiffens in embarrassment, your neck warm beneath your shirt collar as you knock on the apartment door.

Your lover opens it and you hastily bid farewell to his neighbor before you enter, closing the door behind you with a little sigh of relief. “I think he might suspect—” You don’t get a chance to finish as his mouth covers yours. “Francis,” you gasp.

“I’ve missed you,” he says, planting kisses along your throat, unbuttoning the top of your blouse and seating his lips in the hollow there. “This tedious work routine is unbearable.”

“I did warn you. You have to earn a living. Pay bills. I still don’t understand why you wanted this.”

“It’s not the mundane work ethic you devote yourselves to that we’re interested in, I assure you.” He nibbles your ear.

“So why do it, then?”

He sighs, his affectionate gestures ceasing. “Do you really want to talk about this right now? I had envisioned a rather different evening for us. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

“I found something I know you’ll like. Come here.” He leads you into the living room. There’s a tan object resting on the coffee table. The length is too short to be a suitcase, the height making you realize what it is a heartbeat before he lifts the lid. A portable record player. Beside it, a shallow stack of vinyl albums. “Saw it in a shop window on my route downtown. I’ve no idea if you like those artists, but…”

“Francis.” You cover your mouth with your hand. You can hardly believe it. Such a thoughtful gesture. From the intruder or some sentiment of the man he’d taken over. You don’t know which is which. You never have.

“Try it out,” he invites.

You already know which record you’re going to play. At the very top of the pile you see Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong’s collaboration. You slide it from the sleeve and place it on the turntable. Setting the needle down gently on the ebony disc, you grin when it starts to play.

“Turn the volume up. It’s only fair, considering.” He nods towards the direction of the apartment where Mia Stone and her fiancé reside, a mischievous smirk on his features.

You comply, still uncomfortable with making it too loud. “Dance with me?” You’re not certain if he knows how. But the memory is there for him, plucked from the depths at this hour of need. His hands rest on your waist. You twine your arms behind his neck.

Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you

Birds singin' in the sycamore trees

Dream a little dream of me

He turns, lifting you easily. You smile again, allowing him to pull one of your hands free to clasp beside you as you rest the other one on his shoulder, swaying gently as your bodies move in a tight circle.

Say nighty-night and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

While I'm alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me

The doppel leans suddenly and you gasp, but his hand is strong against your lower spine, the other holding your hand tightly. The throaty male singer’s voice begins the next verse as you’re lifted upright again.

Stars fading but I linger on dear

Still craving your kiss

Now I'm longin' to linger till dawn dear

Just saying this

“I thought you didn’t like music,” you murmur against his ear, lifting slightly on your toes.

“It’s growing on me.” You draw back to find him smiling. Francis’ smile. Your heart lurching in your chest again as the artists’ voices join together.

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

Leave the worries behind you

But in your dreams, whatever may be

You've gotta make me a promise, promise to me

You'll dream, dream a little dream of me

The song ends. His hands cup your face. “Sweetheart.” His mouth hungry on yours. “Come to bed with me, love.”

You nod, following him to the bedroom. Undressing each other. Practiced at this now, clothing quickly shed. Not stopping to move the comforter, pressing your naked body down on top of it.

“I want to be inside of you.” He says this often, and it frightens you as much as it thrills you.

“Francis…”

“Let me in, love, please. My special, sweet girl…” His hand wedges between your thighs. Never once has he forced you. Never once have you denied him. You open your legs and he straightens, kneeling between that v shaped space. Running his erection along your pink flesh, parting your nether lips, spreading the slick from your core through them. Massaging your hooded button. Pausing outside your entrance. Waiting for your permission.

“Please,” he says, and it’s the first time you’ve heard him say the word.

“Okay.”

Pressure as the fattened dome violates your canal. You gasp and his hands instantly reach to soothe you, caressing your thigh as he thrusts inside gradually. He leans his weight forward in small increments, bringing your legs up as he goes. Pressing deeper inside of you. Still more than you’re used to. There’s a burn accompanying the stretch as his prick fills your pussy. A kind of raw ache when he is fully sheathed, bumping against the edge of your cervix. Lifting his hips, the shaft sliding back. Thrust in again. A slow rhythm that you know belies what he really wants. His arms tremor with the tension on either side of you. Your knees hug his ribs. He kisses you and you rock against him. The movements become easier. A wet sound every time he bottoms out, his cock fully buried, the base of his groin tapping your own.

“So perfect, love. So tight around me.” He’s already perspiring. He hadn’t opened the window. The air in the room is stale and warm. You taste the salt of his leaking sweat when he kisses you.

“Francis. You feel so good…” The discomfort has subsided. Now, every motion brings nothing but pleasure. Your nails dig into his shoulders. The warning your mind attempts to deliver is ignored. You want this. You want him. You’ll worry about the consequences later.

He moans loudly. “They’ll hear you next door,” you caution.

“I don’t give a fuck. You’re mine,” he growls, nipping at your throat. “I want to mark you again. Somewhere everyone will see.” Sucking kisses near your collarbone. Moving back to your neck.

“Oh, Francis, don’t.” You know how difficult it is to conceal a hickey. You can’t allow it. Imagining greeting the residents with a bloom of raspberry on your throat after the fragile vessels beneath had burst. It was too much.

“A different kind of mark, then. Like the one I made before. Somewhere they won’t see.” There is still an ache to the healing wound he’d previously left. The sutures have been removed, the edges knitting together nicely. “I like being able to feel you when you’re not with me.” He thrusts back inside you. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. You don’t have to be afraid of me.” His pelvis jerks faster, his passion building once more. A hand snakes between your bodies, thumb stroking your clit.

“Oh…” Your hips roll up, making that finger collide more firmly. The familiar sensation of release building inside of you. The coil tightening. “Francis…”

“Cum for me, love. Want to feel you around me.”

Your lower spine is on fire. You can’t hold back any longer. You climax, the walls of your canal spasming around him as the pleasure wracks through your body. Trying to milk your partner’s release. It’s working. You recognize the tell tale shudder. The way his breathing becomes ragged. “Please let me,” he says again, his voice full of need.

“Yes.”

A sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh escapes him. His mouth at the place where your neck and shoulder meet. An instant of heat and needle sharp pain. Something piercing you. Not Francis’ teeth, but belonging to the thing inside of him. The hurt vanishes, replaced by another sensation. You’re warm again. Your body ready for another release. The wave of a second orgasm dragging the doppel through his own. You feel the wet heat of his ejaculate filling you deep inside.

The damp skin you’re clutching ripples. That hazy shimmer visible when he draws back slightly to regard your features, still buried in your womb. You haven’t seen this struggle for many days now. Nearly forgetting its existence. Allowing yourself to be deluded.

Now reminded as the imposter fights for control. The hand that had been draped loosely against your throat tightens slightly, a sharp prick of claws digging into that soft skin, nearly enough to invade that barrier. Your eyes widen in alarm. “Francis,” you manage to choke out.

He abruptly releases you. Looking at his hand as if it’s foreign to him. The movement beneath his flesh stops, the halo fading. He is whole again.

“I’m sorry. I was overwhelmed, I…” His voice trails off. You struggle to move and he withdraws. You feel his cum dripping out of you, staining the blanket beneath you. “Sweetheart.” Worry in his eyes. Touching your cheek. Your force yourself not to flinch. Not to think about the unnatural seed he’s just filled you with. What that union could possibly result in.

The bite he’s left tingles. You reach for it absently, the flesh warm beneath your fingers. It’s slightly raised and firm. Like getting an insect bite, your body reacting to the venom injected.

“It will go away. I didn’t…it’s not deep.” His fingers nudging yours, feeling the injury. “Sweetheart. You’re so quiet. Talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling. What you’re thinking.”

“I don’t know.” There are so many of each, all competing to be heard and felt. “I think…I think I’d better go home now.”

“Stay,” he pleads. This sudden begging of his, you’re not sure what to make of it. “Even if not for the night, just stay with me.”

You shake your head. “I should go. It’s well past curfew.”

“I don’t care about your stupid government’s rules,” he snaps impatiently.

“I do. I have to live by them.” You move to sit on the side of the mattress, his hand reaching for you, settling on your scarred forearm.

“I thought about you all day. All I wanted was this. To be with you.”

“Francis. I can’t stay. Truly. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You bend to retrieve the nearest article of clothing you can reach.

“You’re upset with me.”

“I’m scared, Francis.”

“Of me?”

“Yes. No. Not just you. Everything. You guide his hand to your abdomen. “What will you do if there’s a baby?”

“Is that what you’re so concerned about?“ He sighs heavily, looking relieved. “I’ll protect it. Just like I’ll protect you.”

“They would never let us keep it. Not your species. Not the organization. The DDD would dispose of it. Your race…you wanted it for an experiment. You told me that.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

“You know what.”

You swallow thickly. “This is so dangerous. And you act like it’s not. They’ll kill us, Francis.”

He shakes his head firmly. “No. I won’t let that happen. Did you notice there were no doppels today?”

“I did. It’s unusual, but it does happen on occasion.”

“That’s because of me. Because they recognize this.” He caresses your marked arm. “No one would ever dare harm you.” His fingers now on the new puncture he’d created.

“Even if that’s true, it won’t stop the DDD.”

The imposter cups your cheek. “You’ve done something to me. Not something visually apparent. Something inside. I have to be with you.” He kisses you, the intially chaste gesture deepening and your hand relaxes, dropping the garment you’d retrieved back to the carpet. “Stay with me. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

You can’t refuse.

[elliemarchetti]

Eris Week Day 6: AU/Retellings

Inspired by one of @foxcort’s unhinged prompts because I couldn’t resist although I’m not totally out of my writing/Tumblr hiatus yet. Hope my contribution to @erisweekofficial will still be appreciated even if it’s in Cassian’s POV.

Disclaimer: I know some of you will see this more as Cassian's self-pitying account of an event that highlights his inadequacy as a mate, but in my eyes it's an excerpt of the happy life that awaits Eris and Nesta once her contacts with the Night Court will be reduced to a minimum, only from the point of view of someone who will remain in the past. Still, and for this I turn to the admins of Eris Week, if you find it inadequate for any reason you have every right not to reblog it and I won't bear you any grudge. You guys are amazing, and when my life will be a little more normal I can't wait to read everything that's been written and show some love to all the wonderful fanarts I'm sure the artists have made.

Plot: The Lord of Bloodshed is having the worst time of his life. The heir of Autumn can’t really say the same. This is the famous scene at the Court of Nightmares reimagined with a totally different plot for the whole last book so if it doesn’t really make sense, I’m sorry.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1529

When the next song began, its notes lighter, the steps easier than the ones they had just engaged in, Nesta didn’t hesitate to take Eris’s hand. She seemed eager, like her partner wasn’t the monster they all told her about but just a good dancer who instinctively knew her body screamed to do those extra, solo turns that had catalysed the attention of the whole room. Cassian realized he wouldn’t have let her go, too worried about the impractical design of her dress, too apprehensive she was drunk on the music and not paying enough attention to her surroundings to succeed.  If he had been in Eris’s place, he would’ve scolded her by the end of the music, dragging her off the dancefloor, while the heir of Autumn studied her with his amber eyes as they chatted amiably, chuckles audible here and there. The General couldn’t hear everything they said, but as they got closer he caught a few scraps, words that made the blood in his veins boil.

“… I didn’t see this side of you…”

He wasn’t smiling, but she met his stare anyway as she responded, suave and flirty. She never spoke to Cassian in that tone, always composed, almost defensive, in the rare occasions their topic hadn’t revolved around training or the thousand obligations they were subjected to due to their roles. Maybe it was because he had never spun her, never murmured sweet nothings in her ear, sentences so refined her mouth twitched to one side. Unable to witness more, he turned to Mor, who watched from beside Feyre and Rhys, her face neutral and aloof. He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling, knowing she was the one who taught Nesta those steps.

“Are you inquiring after my eligibility?” Cassian heard Eris joke, his sharp smile turning into a full-on silky laugh at her reply. As it often happened, he felt inadequate in his vulgarity, in his lack of grace. A brute, as the eldest of the Vanserras liked to define him. There was no room for someone like him by the side of a female capable of carrying a political meeting on her inexperienced shoulders and tear someone’s head from their neck in the same week. That duality, the savage rage and silver fire mixed with a beauty able to bring kings to their knees was too much for him, no matter how many times he had claimed her as his, yet his feet moved instinctively, and he reached the pair at the very end of the waltz, trying to ignore how his tapered fingers had descended into the hollow of her bare back or how her cheeks were flushed.

“Move,” Cassian said coldly, halting their private moment. He stood before them amid the sea of people cradled in black, just another piece of Night, until Eris stared at him down his straight nose, ignoring the burning violence oozing from the warrior’s hazel eyes.

“Go sit at your master’s feet, dog,” he hissed, teeth bared, but Nesta was quick to interject, accepting her mates unspoken offer.

“We’ll play later, Nesta Archeron,” the fireling retorted, putting too much emphasis on her last name for Cassian’s liking, before aiming for the dais. For an instant, really just the time of the song, the General deluded himself that he had won, that he could somehow be the knight in shining armour of the story, the hero who saves the princess from the villain and thus obtains her hand and eternal, unconditional love. Those empty illusions were shattered when he followed her into the dark and suffocating corridors of the Court of Nightmares, when he watched her slender figure enter the chamber assigned to Eris for the duration of his visit, her steps cautious and silent as a cat’s. She barely glanced at the slightly ajar door, too focused on her lover’s eager embrace, and Cassian clenched his jaw at the portrait of carefree happiness.

“You’re tickling me!” she giggled as the snake peppered her neck with light kisses, the sound like a harp strumming high and sweet. From his hiding spot, Cassian saw his nemesis’ half-smile widen as he hooked a finger under one of her dress’ straps and pulled, flooding him with pounding, vibrating jealousy. He had to remind himself to breathe when the silk slid down her chest, briefly exposing one of her breasts before Eris could sweep her to the bed, the impalpable skirt mostly gathered between her parted legs, firmly clutched around his waist. As he feasted on her exposed skin, her body went loose and taunt in so many different places Cassian didn’t know where to focus: she was bent and shaped and directed by her lover, her widened pupils hiding under long lashes thanks to the skill of the fingertips massaging her core. The ghosts of nearly faded love bites revealed themselves on the lower part of her ass as she arched her back in ecstasy and Cassian’s face went slack. It wasn’t him who left those marks on her, the memory of the sleepless night spent together forever imprinted in his memory, so she could only have had other partners, or maybe she had previously entertained herself between Eris’ sheets, protocol be damned. The matter quickly slipped out of his mind when the smell of her arousal flowed and swam around him, clouding his senses as she melted under someone else’s touch. There wasn’t enough space inside him, not in his mind or his heart, for what the situation made him feel, he just knew he was hard under his trousers, his body ready to honour and worship someone he had been unable to keep up with when he had the chance.

He was about to leave to deal with his shame when their gazes met. He would have expected those merciless and cold eyes to pin him to the spot, he supposed she would scream in anger, or perhaps warn Eris with quiet disdain that some beast beneath them was spying on their tryst, but instead her irises glimmered and she let out a moan, her flawless red lips, sin personified, parted to draw a likewise perfect O. As if awakened by that sound, her lover crawled back to her mouth, his hands busy undoing his pompous clothing. Cassian knew what was about to happen, he had watched and performed this dance for centuries, in the frenzy of inexperienced youth and in the blind search for solace when the need was too much. He had fucked females on all fours like some kind of wild animal, knees hurting on marble floors and feet losing their grips in the mud, in a foolish attempt to fill the void left by Nesta, but no one showed on their features the pure, feral delight that crashed on his mate’s face when Eris entered her all at once, like a conqueror of death, glowing as he devoured moonlit skin and shared heartbeats. Between one fast thrust and the next, he lifted Nesta’s arms above her head, their matching rings glinting as if lit by an inner fire. He guided her through the orgasm with ease and they came together, a rising cacophony of panting and groaning.

“I hope you’re with child,” he whispered, his words so shocking they made Cassian audibly gasp. There was no way he hadn’t heard the sound, even lost in his unchecked, dark joy, yet he decided to ignore it.

"Why so?" she murmured seductively, gleaming with wanton desire as she drank in his expression, whatever it was. She didn’t seem to object the idea, nor she sounded eager to postpone it as long as she could.

“It would give us an excuse to speed up the organization of this wedding. I know my father wants it to exude power, to convey all the strength of our family, and my mother wishes for every detail to be perfect, but I’m growing tired of this façade,” he replied honestly, then lovingly erased a smudge of kohl from the corner of her left eye, a remark of the familiarity they shouldn’t have had yet.

“She has no daughters and I have no mother,” she pointed out, amazing Cassian with the nonchalance she used to address her traumatic past. “Let her have fun.”

“I know, and I will never show even a hint of displeasure when she will inevitably take you away for the whole day to pick the best party favours and select the optimal spot to best showcase the sheer magnitude of the orchestra you so wisely selected, but the only thing I aspire to is to finally be able to get away from the intrigues and the backstabbing for a while, to travel wherever we want and show you all the wonders Prythian and the Continent has to offer,” he confessed, and Nesta kissed him again, dangling her love and triumph in Cassian’s face, a silent dismissal to whatever his role had been in her night.

Slowly, the fearsome Lord of Bloodshed retreated in the shadow, engulfed in a cocoon of grief and rage at the Mother’s mistake, the sound of his shattering heart deafening in his eardrums.

[beepborpdoodledorp]

Hey all, I've returned from my Tumblr break. Was honestly planning on staying off for a couple more days, but the break wasn't exactly having the effect I was hoping it was (being that I'd be able to stop focusing on all my personal issues with the CRK fanbase but instead it just gave me more time to stew over them). And depending on when I'm posting this the new update with Stardust Cookie (my beloved) is either just about to come out or has already come out, so I'd figure it would be a good time to jump back into action. And in my couple days off, I've had some time to think some things over.

First off, I need to admit I made a really big mistake. I really want to start posting to Instagram, and even before putting the poll up I was already gravitating towards doing so. It's completely on me for posting a poll for something I could've just resolved by myself, and apologize for putting the poll up in the first place. I really appreciate everyone's input, but for the meantime I do want to go forward with setting up Instagram and see where it goes.

Secondly, I've been putting more thought into doing commissions - I even set up a PayPal account in case I actually get the idea lifted up off the ground. I might've said it before on this blog, I can't really remember if I did or not, but around June of last year I got laid off from my job and have been struggling to find a replacement ever since - ergo, my income has been completely halted. The idea of commissions has appealed to me for years now and something I hoped I could eventually get around to. But also, the idea of commissions kind of…terrifies me? I'm terrible in social situations with people I already know, let alone strangers on the Internet. I'd be scared of messing something up or saying something wrong or asking for too much or too little guidance on the piece and have the customer end up dissatisfied. I want so badly to set up commissions but I'm not sure if I'm in the right headspace to do it now. Maybe I'd be able to set them up by late spring, but I can't make any promises.

2023 is…kind of shaping up to be a shitty year for me. A bunch of my mental health issues bubbled back up around mid-January and haven't really mellowed out yet, and I really think it's starting to affect my feelings on the CRK fanbase, which is my main priority for fanmade content. I mean, I made like four entire rant posts within the span of three weeks about CRK shipping - for most of my time in the fanbase you wouldn't catch me touching that topic with a ten-foot pole. Maybe coming back to social media will actually be able to help me, or at least give me something to distract myself with - since leaving it for a bit hardly helped.

As for other things I didn't post about? Well, uh…I made some fanart that I'm hoping to post soon? Beat a couple Dark Mode stages I was stuck on only to get stuck on yet another one? I didn't even get in the Top 50% in Big Run? Yeah, guess my hazard level just wasn't high enough, though I'm sure losing half the shifts I joined didn't help either. Oh well, I don't have any room in my locker to display any not-obnoxiously-green Horrorboros statue anyway.

[autumnsart22]

A Dream Come True: Shigaraki x Dabi x Reader part 2/2

Part 2 of the fanfic my friend wrote! 

Warning: SMUT 🔥

Dabi strode off down the hall and you started to work on putting the rest of the groceries away, and cleaning some dishes in the sink. Shigaraki stood up from the table and walked into the kitchen. He looked around before looking at you, raising the empty beer bottle. You opened the drawer that held the trash and recycling and he threw it in with a loud clunk. He stood there in the middle of the kitchen for a little while before you finally asked,

“Can I help you?” 

“You’re standing in front of the fridge.” he states plainly.  You roll your eyes and move out of the way as he grabs another beer. He makes his way back to the table and sits down.

 You both pass the time in silence as he sips on his beer and you finish cleaning the kitchen. At some point Dabi comes out of the bathroom still drying his hair with a towel wearing nothing but your brother's old pair of black joggers that look slightly too big but the strings in the front were tied tight preventing them from falling any lower. Dear god what have you done to deserve this? He switched with Shigaraki who took his turn in the bathroom while you scoured the apartment for extra blankets and pillows and threw them on the couch. When Shigaraki was done in the shower he came out in a long sleeve white shirt and your ex-boyfriend's old pair of grey sweatpants. He joined Dabi who had heated up one of the soba cups from the store. 

“Okay I’m gonna go shower, you can just...yea” you spoke out loud trailing off as neither of them paid you any attention, and you left to go to the bathroom. You peeled off your work clothes, just some black jeans and a black blouse, throwing them into the same pile of clothes as Dabi and Shigaraki’s. You took your time washing your hair and and shaving your legs feeling like you deserved to pamper yourself a little given your night. You weren’t that tired given that you basically turned nocturnal since working at the bar. When you felt fresh and clean you dried off and wrapped yourself up in a towel to head to your room. Once you changed into some sweats and a tank top you made your way back out to the living room to find Dabi, now wearing a black t-shirt, and Shigaraki on the couch both nursing another beer while talking in hushed tones which again halted the moment they saw you. They both looked at you. 

“What?” You said confused on why they were both staring at you. 

“I have more questions,” Shigaraki stated, finally averting his gaze away from you, although it seemed reluctant. 

“Okay...shoot” you said walking into the kitchen for a glass of water then plopping onto the middle section of the couch in between them. If there was one piece of furniture you splurged on it was this couch. It was a huge ‘U’ shape and could fit up to 10 people if they squished side by side. Shigaraki and Dabi were both sprawled on the two sides of the couch with you sitting in the bottom of the U. 

“What sort of art or shit do people create about us?” 

You almost choke on your water. That was not the sort of question you were expecting. 

“Why?” you said suspiciously.

“You mentioned it earlier and I’m curious,” Shigaraki said, making large hand gestures swinging his beer bottle around. He must be getting kinda tipsy. 

“Fine but if I’m answering these questions. I’m gonna need a stronger drink” 

“All out here princess” Shigaraki says, taking the last gulp of his beer and waving it towards you. 

“Same here.” Dabi says holding his beer bottle up, as though expecting you to take it. You stand up and grab both bottles and chuck them into the recycling, then grabbing a bottle of rum from the back of your cabinet. You make your way back to the couch and take a large swig shuddering as it goes down. Shigaraki motions for the bottle and you hand it over passing it to Dabi afterwards. 

“Okay so back to my question” 

“Well people write and draw all kinds of shit. Everything from just realistic art or funny art to overtly sexual” Shigaraki raises an eyebrow at this. 

“What you don’t believe me?” You ask laughing slightly cause if only they knew. 

“People think of crusty in that way?” Dabi laughs. 

“Hey like you’re any better staples. Y/N who do people like more?” Shigaraki shoots. 

“That’s gotta be Dabi. He’s pretty well known as being attractive” 

“Fuck you” Shigaraki pouts and Dabi smirks to himself. 

“Hey it’s not my fault, and trust me there’s still a ton of shit about you. And some of both of you” You said this last part quickly while taking another large swallow of rum. You couldn’t help yourself. 

“What do you mean the both of us?” Dabi and Shigaraki looked at you hesitantly.

“Well people like to put you two together. It’s called shipping, or they just pair you together as like a duo in fanfiction” 

Both of their reactions looked like they were about to gag and murder the other at just the thought of what people had had them do to eachother. 

“Okay that’s the most disgusting thing I have ever heard in my life” Dabi says reaching for the bottle which you hand over willingly. 

“Moving on from that,” Shigaraki says, shaking his head as though to physically erase his mind. “So Y/N you’re obviously a fan. Who are your favorites?”  

“I don’t know. I have a lot of people I like and don’t like. It depends.” At this point your brain was becoming warm and fuzzy but you didn’t want to let anything slip out that could be potentially embarrassing or would make the two men turn against you. 

“Bullshit. Spill” 

“I told you it depends” 

“On what?”  he said this with a sneer. 

“I don’t know” You said exasperatedly.  “my mood, who’s been most present in the media. It just depends on what I’m looking for.”

“What you’re looking for?” Dabi repeated confusedly. 

“Next question” You state simply. 

The two villains raise their eyebrows at you, curious at your evasion of the question, but your lips stay shut. 

“Fine we’ll come back to that one Princess.” Shigaraki complies.“What do we look like in the show? I mean do we look different in real life?” 

“Shouldn’t we be trying to figure out how to get you guys back?” you ask. 

“Not much we can do about it. I’m sure the rest of the league and Kurogiri are tracking down those thugs right now, so answer my question” 

“I don’t know. I guess you look kinda different, but I can still recognize you. I can show you if you want?” Shigaraki looks at you with affirmation. You get up to get your computer which you hook up to the tv screen in front of the couch. Dabi and Shigaraki turn so they can see the television, both laying down on their backs. You open your laptop (sorry I am basing it off my computer) and type in your password. 

“Is that Shoto?” Dabi says disgustedly. There was in fact a fanart picture of Todoroki amongst the collage that was your background screen. 

“Oh yeah. He would be in the it depends list” you say timidly quickly opening up the browser to cover up the background. 

“Why the fuck did he look like some 20 year old model?” 

“I told you, it’s fanart. People draw characters the way they see them or want to see them. Shoto is also really popular amongst fans if not the most I would say” 

Dabi makes a noise of revulsion. You turn back to start typing in Shigaraki’s name into the browser and instantly images pop up as well as the fandom wiki and regular wiki articles. You click on images and start to scroll through. 

“This is weird” Shigaraki says slightly in awe but disturbed at seeing this world's visions of his life. “Here give me that” he says gesturing towards your computer. You hand it over reluctantly. 

“Seriously?!” he says grabbing the laptop. 

“What?” you say hesitantly. Did you forget to close out of something?

He lifts the computer for Dabi to also see the two stickers on the sides of your trackpad. 

“The anger explosion boy and pro eraserhead?” Dabi said, judgement was obvious in his tone. 

“What?” you said defensively. 

“Nothing I just thought you’d be a villain girl and all” 

WTF, you think. What was that supposed to mean?

“Why do you think that? And who says I’m not?” 

Dabi raised an eyebrow in interest but didn't answer your taunts, instead turning back to the screen. Shigaraki has been scrolling through and tapping on pictures of himself making little noises and reactions. 

“This is fucking weird” He states again, the screen was stopped on a very sultry piece of fanart of Shigaraki. 

“Take that down you freak. No one needs to see your crusty dusty body like that. Hand it over.” Dabi tells Shigaraki. 

Shigaraki passes the computer over and Dabi searches his own name seeing all the pictures of him, although significantly more fanart pops up for him. He scrolls for a little bit but becomes weirded out or downright just bored at the photos of him. He then goes back to the wikipedia page and starts to read. While the two men continue to look at the screen and read information about their show, you stand up and head to the kitchen feeling peckish. You wander through the kitchen opening and closing all the cabinets waiting for something to catch your eye. You open the fridge and close it moving onto the freezer. Your eyes scan the contents when you spot the pint of chocolate fudge ice cream. You take it out and grab a spoon making your way back to the couch. When you get to the couch both Shigaraki and Dabi are staring at you again with intensity and amusement. 

“What?” you say, plopping back into your spot, struggling to tear open the plastic and resorting to using your teeth. With both of them still staring at you as though waiting for something, you look at the screen and see that your messages are open. You take a second to read the new text from your friend. 

‘Dude have you read this Shiggy Dabs fanfic? It made me 🤤🥵’

‘This ones similar to the last one you sent me, so be prepared⛓️😂’ 

Your heart sank as you saw the familiar logo of Ao3 underneath those texts. 

“What were you saying about being a villain girl?” Dabi said, smirking. 

“I––” You had no idea what to say. 

“Aww is the Princess embarrassed” Shigaraki says teasingly. 

You try to get up to leave but a hand roughly pulls you back down and you hide behind your hands refusing to look at the two villains. This was so embarrassing. What were you going to do? Now they knew that you liked them. That you were like the other people in this world that they had been disgusted by all night. They weren’t likely to just let this go. If only you could get to your room and lock the door maybe they would just leave. 

“Come on don’t be shy. Are we on your depends list?” 

They take your silence and continued evasion as an affirmation. 

“Hmm…” You hear Dabi hum lowly. “What exactly are we dependent on? What are you looking for when you search for us?” Dabi asks, already knowing the answer. 

“Come on tell us” Shigaraki coos. You shake your head. You could feel both of the boys drawing closer to you like school bullies cornering you in the bathroom,  but you didn’t dare look up at them, too embarrassed. That’s when you heard typing. Your head whips up to see Dabi replying to your friend. 

‘What exactly do you mean by similar?’

By the time you read what he wrote they were already responding. 

‘You know 😂  the usual non-con threesome with you and dabs and shigs. Kidnapping, ropes, degradation, similar to all the other fanfics 😋 tho in this one you cum four times and each a dif way😳 ’

If your stomach dropped even more. It would have touched the ground. 

“So not only are you a villain’s girl but you’re a kinky little slut too?” Dabi says chuckling. He was practically next to you staring at your frozen figure as you looked at the screen. 

“I should have known when you walked out here with these cute little things poking out” He reached over and pinched your nipple tugging on the metal barbell through it. You squealed instinctually pulling away but he caught the top of your tank top effectively pulling it down revealing your breasts, each decorated with a metal piercing. 

You motion to cover them, but your hands are once again forced behind your back, however this time Shigaraki had the pleasure of restraining you. 

“Let go of me!” you yelped at the humiliating assault. 

“I thought you liked this?” Dabi said in mock sympathy. “Just how many times have you gotten off to us?” 

You were squirming trying to remove yourself from Shigaraki’s grip. 

“Answer the question” Dabi said, pinching your nipple again. You yelped in pain but you could feel the slick starting to build between your legs. 

“A lot okay. Now let go!” 

Dabi and Shigaraki complied surprisingly. You regained your breath and pulled your tank top back up. The next few minutes passed in silence as Shigaraki took another swig of rum and Dabi continued to scroll through the different My Hero wikipedia pages. You got up still in shock taking your forgotten ice cream back to the freezer. You had lost your appetite. 

What were you supposed to do now? You were still slightly scared of them after what just happened but you couldn’t ignore the arousal that had been sparked deep within you. You had dreamt of this many times. This wasn’t much different than the different fanfiction you had read, and honestly this would be on the tamer end, but that was just fiction. But were you really going to pass up this chance? How could you? Yet why’d they stop? You were surprised and honestly kinda disappointed they had now that you were standing in the kitchen. And with that you had made up your mind. You are not going to pass up this chance you could never forgive yourself. 

You made your way back over to the couch but didn’t sit down. You stood in front of them silent staring at your feet, trying to figure out what you wanted to say. 

“What?” Dabi said as though nothing had happened. 

“Why’d you stop?” you asked timidly. 

“Hmm? Because you said so.” Dabi said as though this was an obvious answer to a stupid question. 

You looked at him surprised.

“Don’t believe me?” He said with a small chuckle. 

When you didn’t seem to get any less anxious he continued with a sigh.

“Look Princess, I may be a bastard and sadistic villain but I don’t go wishing pain on everyone, especially ones with cute tits. Of course if they’re into that then I’m down” He said this so casually it seemed almost wrong, all while he continued to watch your computer screen. You assumed it was in part due to the alcohol, but still. 

“you’re blocking the screen,” Shigaraki said annoyed. 

“Was that all princess?” Dabi said mockingly

 “Well….” 

“What?” Shigaraki spat. 

“Hurry up,” Dabi said flatly. 

“What if I wanted to continue?” You said finally looking up at them. They both looked at you intently, then gave each other a look and were smiling when their eyes fell back to you. 

“Our little Princess wants to live out her dirty villainous fantasies...huh?”

You nod. Wait did they just say our?

“Come on tell us what you’ve dreamt about?” Dabi says beckoning you over to him with one finger.

Once you’re in front of him, he pulls you down onto his lap so you're facing him. You look at him hesitantly biting your lip.

“You’re the expert of these little situations, Princess” he says holding his hands up for you to guide them. You take his hands slowly, unsure of your actions and guide them back to your breasts. He gives you a smirk and gives you a good squeeze, causing a small moan to escape your throat. You instinctually grind down into his lap feeling his member start to harden beneath you. You lean your head back as Dabi pulls your tank top over your head. You look over at Shigaraki who’s staring at you starting to palm himself through the sweats. 

“Him too princess?” Dabi asks you, giving your nipples a pinch causing you to moan all the while still staring at Shigaraki “Mmmhmmm” 

This was enough for Shigaraki to slide down the couch to where the two of you were. 

“Tell him where you want him, otherwise he won’t know what to do, I can’t imagine he’s done this before” Dabi encourages.

“Oh shut up” Shigaraki hisses, but he focuses back on you when you grab his hand and bring it to your neck. He insticutally keeps one finger raised, but you push that finger down with the rest deep into the side of your neck limiting the oxygen flowing to your brain, enough to give you that high. Flooded with pleasure you grind down again into Dabi feeling your underwear starting to become uncomfortably wet. 

Looking into Shigaraki’s crimson eyes, you could feel them boring into you just as hungry as you felt. He leans in close, lips barely ghosting over your own. You could feel both of your breaths mixing in the millimeters between you two when Dabi gives a harsh tug to both your nipples causing you to gasp. Shigaraki seized this opportunity to violently smash your lips together. Your hand reaches into his hair, gripping for support as the initial ferver and clash of teeth dies down into long passionate tangling of tongues as you explore each other's mouth. His rough lips scratching into your’s was a sensation you’ve imagined many times but none of it lived up to reality. He nipped lightly on your bottom lip making you lean into him more. 

Dabi’s hands continued their exploration of your torso, moving down your sides to your hips and around to your ass. He squeezed and kneaded them with his strong fingers. Shigaraki squeezed your neck again sending another rush of euphoria to your head making you moan into his mouth before he pulled away to attack your neck and take over teasing your breasts. You look back at Dabi with hunger in your eyes.

“What now princess? What do you want?” He says with a devilish grin. 

You grind down into his cock again which is now hard as ever. 

“Uh-uh. Use your words.” he says giving your ass a squeeze. 

Shigaraki rolls your nipples in between his harsh fingers sending waves of pleasure and pain throughout your body, causing you to roll your head again and let out a short moan. When you look back at Dabi, you speak in a low breathy tone, almost a whisper. 

“Abuse me” 

With those few words, Dabi smirks and slips his hands underneath the waistband of your sweats. “As you wish” 

Shigaraki continues his attack to your neck sucking and biting, leaving red and darkened patches curving down your shoulder and back. Dabi continued his groping, and you could feel the rough staples scratching at your flesh and his nails digging in harsher than before. His hands slide down the curve of your ass tugging your soiled underwear to the side. 

“Hmmm you’re so wet.” Dabi said, ghosting his fingers over your dripping entrance.

“You little whore. Getting so wet for a couple of villains” You shiver at the sensitive touch and degrading words. Gripping to Shigaraki’s shirt and grinding down trying to gain friction, you notice Shigaraki palming himself again. You replace his hand with your own, wrapping your fingers around his clothed cock, squeezing lightly. Shigaraki groaned deeply in your ear, sending vibrations straight to your core while Dabi’s fingers dip slightly into your needy hole but only enough to tease more juices and whimpers out of you. You try to push down onto them only for him to retreat. 

“Please...stop teasing” you whine.

“So needy Princess huh? You want my fingers in that little cunt of yours?” 

“Yes. Dabi. Please” you didn't care at this point how pathetic you sounded. The pressure in your core was building and you needed to be pushed over the edge. 

“Go on...make yourself cum on my fingers. Show me how much you want it,” Dabi said sneering at how desperate you looked. He finally allowed two fingers to sink into you as you lowered your hips again. You were always amazed at how much deeper fingers other than your own could reach, and Dabi’s in particular could reach places you could never dream of finding on your own. 

The effect was immediate. You started to roll your hips, bouncing slightly on Dabi’s fingers. You’re grip on Shigarak’s member stalls as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. Shigaraki, displeased by this fact, guides you inside his sweats, pumping himself with your hand. You could feel the precum leaking from his slit as your fingers smear it up and down his shaft. Shigaraki continued his abuse of your flesh, moving down biting and sucking till his teeth latched onto your sensitive nipple. You whine as Dabi’s other hand had found your clit. He twirled it between his fingers letting his nail drag over it. This added stimulation drove you closer sending shivers up your spine. 

“Mm close” you whimper as your movements on Dabi’s fingers become sloppy. 

“Come on princess. Make yourself cum, make a pretty little mess all over my fingers” 

Dabi presses into your clit and you grind down hard again. Dabi wickedly curls his fingers pressing into that soft spot inside you releasing the knot of pressure that had been building in your core.Your legs shake and you clamp down hard onto his fingers which are still moving in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm. 

You weakly fall forward onto Dabi’s chest as Shigaraki releases your hand from his dick. You can feel Dabi’s fingers pull out of you and when you open your eyes you see him playing with your sticky release coating his fingers. You watch as Dabi brings his fingers to his mouth, smearing some on his lip and licking it before taking them into his mouth, sucking and cleaning yourself off of him. 

“Princess you’re delicious” He says smiling down at you making you blush at the crude compliment. 

“My turn to taste'' Shigaraki said, pulling you off Dabi’s lap. He positioned you on your back, your head resting on Dabi’s thigh. As Shigaraki did away with your sweats and underwear, you pulled Dabi’s mismatched lips to yours. The feeling was heavenly. You could still taste yourself on his tongue as he explored your mouth. You tugged needily at Dabi’s shirt and he pulled it off only breaking the kiss for a brief moment. 

You savored the wet and slow pace opposite to Shigaraki’s fast and rough, both pleasure in their own ways. You’re breath hitched and you moaned deeply when you felt Shigaraki’s wet tongue lick the length of your core, swiping up the sticky left overs from your previous release. 

You look down at Shigaraki. He had positioned himself between your thighs, knees slumped over his shoulders. He was staring up at you licking his lips before attaching himself to your clit sucking at it harshly. You could feel that ball of pressure tighten again in your stomach and you let your head fall back to Dabi’s thigh, eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of the hot wet mouth working at your sex. You’re hand threaded its way into Shigaraki’s silky blue hair, tugging lightly, only making him suck harder. 

You felt Dabi’s hand on your cheek and you opened your eyes looking up into his sapphire eyes before he turned your head. You were met with Dabi’s unclothed cock. Your eyes followed the Jacobs ladder of staples up his shaft to the head where you could see a bead of precum sitting at the slit. You smile thinking how in the hell fanfic got this detail right. 

“What’re you smiling at? Impressed?”

“Hmm...No piercing, huh? Guess they got that part wrong” 

“You people are sick” he says chuckling before directing his dick into your mouth. 

You take it gladly bobbing your head down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks before sliding back up, letting your tongue catch on each of the staples. Dabi let out a low groan, putting his hand in your hair to keep it away from your face. 

You continue to work your mouth on Dabi’s cock while Shigaraki continues to swipe his tongue through your sensitive folds. You moan around Dabi’s length when Shigaraki slips a finger inside, causing you to buck your hips, pushing his tongue deeper into you. 

The vibrations from your tight throat had Dabi pushing your head down taking his entire length. You gagged around his cock, choking for air but that only drove you further into your pleasure. Shigaraki added another finger and started pistoning into you violently while sucking at your clit once again. You moaned, tugging at Shigaraki’s hair, signaling you were close. You could tell Dabi was close too as he took control and started face fucking you, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. 

Shigaraki added a third finger stretching you wider and driving you over the edge for the second time as you gasped around Dabi’s cock, legs squeezing around Shigaraki. Your orgasm drove Dabi to the edge as he thrust into you again and kept your head down as your throat tightened around his length. Thick ropes of cum shot from the tip and slid down the back of your throat. You took it all swallowing until you couldn’t breathe anymore pushing Dabi away. You’re head lolled on Dabi’s lap as you recovered from your high. 

Dabi was leaning back breathing deeply with his eyes closed. Your brain was still foggy but it wasn’t long until you felt something back against your sex. Looking down you see Shigaraki lining himself up with your entrance, coating his cock in your juices. Your eyes widen at seeing his length out in the open. It was not as decorated as Dabi’s but it held the same presence, being about an inch longer although not as thick as Dabi’s. Shigaraki looks up at you when he lines himself up, the tip merely resting against you, and sees your nervous expression. 

“Huh didn’t think I was getting you this wet for nothing. I ain’t wasting a drop of this pussy” 

He stared into your eyes as he steadily pushed into you. The stretch was almost unbearable. You squeezed your eyes shut trying to make it through the burning stretch. 

“Shit you’re tight. Feels like my dick is in a vice... fuuuuuck… relax” Shigaraki hissed. 

You could barely register his voice let alone his request. You could barely breath focusing only on the pain as Shigaraki continued to push against your walls. 

“Hey patchwork stop sleeping and get her to breathe” 

Dabi shifts underneath you and you feel his hands run down your sides outlining your torso. Even though he didn’t have his quirk, his hands were hot and soothing as they rubbed against your skin. 

“Come on Princess.” You open your eyes slightly to see Dabi looking down at you patronizingly. 

“You’ve been doing so well,” He said brushing your jaw with the back of his hand. “And you wanna feel good right?” 

You nod meekly. 

Dabi leans down so his lips are hovering centimeters over yours. The smell of alcohol on his breath tantalizing and his minty scent making your head spin. 

“Breathe Princess. Just focus on me” He whispers before putting his lips on yours. You melt into the kiss doing exactly what Dabi says, exhaling through your nose and focusing on the way his cold staples scratch against your skin while his soft tongue dances with your own.  

When you break the kiss for air it’s only because Shigaraki has managed to bury himself to the hilt. You can feel him pressing against your cervix deep inside you. You look  at him again and find him head tilted back, eyes closed, taking in the feeling of you pulsing around him. Even though you know it’s not out of consideration but pure self indulgence, you're glad that he hasn’t started moving yet as you adjust to his length. Eventually it seems the lust of needing to rearrange your insides trumped being his own personal cockwarmer. His eyes fell on you again as you pulled out till only the tip was inside before bottoming out once again. Each time slowly pulling out only to thrust back in at full force.

You were still adjusting to his length, but soon the burning sensation of being stretched and pounded turned into addicting pleasure. You resumed your kiss with Dabi whose hands had found their way to your breast as Shigaraki increased his pace. Soon you were being knocked senseless by Shigaraki’s ruthless pace. He always has been fast on screen, so why did you think he’d be any different here. Moans and gasps escaped your mouth as the tip of Shigaraki’s cock hit your cervix. Once again the pressure began to build in your core. You began to whimper as you were pushed closer and closer to the edge. 

“Fuckkk I’m close. It’s like you're pulling me deeper. So fucking good” Shigaraki panted out falling to his hands on either side of your hips for support. You whimper again and claw at the couch cushions as you could feel yourself just on the brink when Dabi’s hand slides down your stomach and begins rubbing at your clit. You cry out and clamp down hard on Shigaraki legs shaking and eyes rolling back as Dabi’s ministrations send you through your third orgasm of the night.

You feel Shigaraki thrust once more hard and then hot thick jets of white paint your walls. You shudder at the feeling of being pumped full, your sex still milking him of everylast drop. Shigaraki finally pulls out of you and lays back on the couch catching his breath savoring the last waves of his high falling down. 

You too were recuperating and limp, unable to move. Your mind was hazy from the alcohol and the relentless stimulation.  You were so tired that you didn’t even care about cleaning up but rather drifting off to sleep right there. However you were jostled from these thoughts as Dabi had rolled you off his lap and onto your stomach. You could hardly keep up with his movements as he stood and walked around you. It wasn’t until you felt a pair of hands lifting your hips that you looked back to see Dabi fisting is dick that looked painfully hard. You couldn’t fathom another round right now but you were still so weak from your last high that you didn’t have time to prepare before Dabi thrusted into your already abused hole. 

He sighed once he was buried inside you. He leaned down so his chest was hovering above your back the heat making your skin prickle. He leaned down till his breath could be felt on the back of your neck. 

“Mhmm… ’m so close already and you’re gonna let me pump you full, aren’t you princess”

You couldn’t respond because your overly sensitive body was already reacting to Dabi's hard cock pressing into you, stretching you wider around his girth. Even though your mind was fading in and out, you involuntarily pressed your hips back to make him go deeper, seeking out the friction your body needed to overdose on. 

Dabi was the exact opposite of Shigaraki. He took his time, thrusting in and out, making sure you felt every staple and ridge of his cock dragging against your walls savoring the way they pulled him in. Overstimulation caused tears to form in the corners of your eyes only soft whimpers escaping your mouth. Dabi continued slow and deliberate, letting out low breathy grunts with every thrust. On the edge once more, never fully recovering from before, you were longing to be undone one last time.

“Please Dabi” you mewl.

Dabi snickered in your ear before snaking his hand under you and pressing his fingers to your clit which was all the stimulation you needed to moan out and squeeze around Dabi who came at the feeling of your gummy walls constricting around his pulsing length. You felt his seed fill you up and mix with Shigaraki’s inside you. Dabi dropped down next to you, rolling you onto your side so you were effectively spooning with his cock still inside you. You could hear movement apart from you and Dabi, and in opening your eyes you saw Shigaraki standing pulling up the sweats that were bunched at his thighs. He noticed you staring at him. 

“Tch. I don’t cuddle Princess and I gotta piss” His tone was crude but laced with content from having a good fuck. “Don’t let a single drop out Dabi” Shigaraki stated before walking down the hall. 

Dabi didn’t respond but seemed to have no intent on moving as you felt his member begin to soften inside you. You couldn’t be more concerned about the implications behind Shigaraki’s comment or the fact that you still had a dick inside you. You were just tired and groggy from the night's events and thankful that you were finally able to be comfortable and close your eyes. You didn’t think Dabi was really a cuddle after sex with a stranger kinda guy but you weren’t complaining. He was warm and made you feel safe despite knowing he would most likely kill you in any other context. You let your eyes close again, head falling onto Dabi’s arm, giving into the waves of exhaustion coming over you. 

When Shigaraki came back from the bathroom he found you and Dabi still in the exact same position he left you in. Dabi opened his eyes when he heard Shigaraki come back into the room. 

“Is she out?” Shigaraki asked. 

“Think so,” Dabi said, finally pulling out of you and tugging the joggers back up to his hips. He slides out from behind you, but you don’t even realize, body only curling inwards at the loss of heat. Dabi stands and looks down at you with Shigaraki. You look so worn out and peaceful. Your body exposed for them, hickeys and bruises forming where Shigaraki ravaged your neck. Your ass is still red from the pounding, and welts forming where Dabi’s strong fingers dug into you. However the best part was probably the shine of slick spread on the inside of your thighs as a stream white cum dribbled from your used hole. 

Shigaraki notices this and sits down by your feet.

“What’re you doing?” 

“I told you I don’t want any of it out. Got a problem with that?” 

“Nope.” Dabi said rolling his eyes and walking away. “I’ve learned to not try and figure out your sick mind”  

Shigaraki looked back down at you. 

“Good. I have plans for her.” Dabi rolled his eyes again and walked down the hall to the bathroom. Shigaraki ran a hand up your thigh and you flexed at his touch, still unconscious. Shigaraki ran his fingers down the length of your core smearing the juices there before scooping up the stream of cum still leaking out of you and pushing it back inside you. His two fingers easily slipped into your stretched whole, but that didn’t stop a small whine from slipping from your throat. Shigaraki moved his fingers lazily in and out of you pushing the cum deeper. His eyes shot to your face when your hips bucked instinctively against him, your face was scrunched and staggered breaths and sniffs escaping your slightly parted lips, but you were still out, lost in whatever continued fantasy your fatigued brain was conjuring. 

Shigaraki pushed into you a few more times selfishly pressing into the soft spot inside you that had you clamp down onto his fingers one last time. You gasped and curled further into a ball. When Shigaraki pulled his fingers out you hummed, face still scrunched, but he got up and left to the kitchen to wash off his hands. 

When Dabi came back he met Shigaraki in the kitchen grabbing a glass of water and leaning against the counter. 

“What do we do now?” Dabi asked casually.

“Well I don’t know ‘bout you but I’m fucking exhausted” 

“Do you really think the rest of the league will be able to figure this out?” 

“Kurogiri is smart enough, even if the rest of the league is useless with this sort of thing. However I am curious what this sick twisted universe has to offer us” 

“Whatever you say” Dabi says walking back to the couch, and lifting you bridal style. You lean into his warmth as he carries you to your bedroom plopping you down on your bed and closing the door. 

When you open your eyes the next morning, you feel your head throbbing against your skull. The bright light streaming in through your window was enough to make you want to stab the sun till it was nothing more than an ember. You closed your eyes again trying to remember the dream you were having but as you searched your brain, pieces of your dream seemed to turn into memories. You shot your eyes open and sat up. It was just a dream right? Realizing you were naked and that your skin felt sticky and dirty was enough to make your head pound harder than before. Wasn’t the fact you were hungover proof enough that last night events had taken place? No, there was still a chance you had just gotten drunk and imagined it all, but you had to be sure. You sprang out of bed and pulled on some loose shorts and a shirt, impatiently throwing open the door and speeding down the hall to where the proof you needed would be.

The living room was lit by the bright sunlight streaming through the curtains. The golden rays illuminated messy blankets and pillows strewn across the couch, an empty rum bottle, a pair of your sweats and tank top buried on the floor, but no one was there. You felt nauseous trying to piece everything together along with the aftermath of the alcohol. You rush to the sink in the kitchen and puke up the contents of your stomach. You grip the counter and close your eyes until you felt more confident in your body's ability to keep everything inside. You slowly open your eyes and look around, mind going back to what happened last night. However you get sidetracked by a bright blue sticky note sticking up from your countertop. Walking over to it you read. 

“Kurogiri is a smart man. We’ll be back Princess.  PS I want the blood out of my pants.” 

[xiaomomowrites]

midas touch

Genshin Impact | ZhongChi

Summary: Sometimes, in moments where Zhongli finds himself surrendering to the harmonic bliss that surrounds him, he’ll allow himself to lose control over his mortal form and let some of his draconic features shine through. Some days his horns will make an appearance, and other times his scales will begin to blossom across what once was human skin. Tonight, his horns make themselves present, and his eyes have shifted, too.

“Can I…” Ajax starts tentatively. His eyes are blown so wide, and they glimmer with curiosity and a silent joy that is akin to a child being gifted sweets. Zhongli chuckles, nodding his head in silent affirmation. 

The pads of Ajax’s fingers hesitantly make contact with the horns stemming from the crown of his head. They’re beautiful; they glow as if they’re dipped in melted mora, pulsing brightly and casting a dim light across Ajax’s pale skin. They’re quite long, and Ajax gently trails his index finger along the curve of a horn. They don’t stick straight up, though. Instead, it bows backwards charmingly until it tapers off midway toward the back of Zhongli’s head.

Beautiful.

Or, Zhongli discovers something new about his powers and gladly takes advantage of it.

Find it on Ao3!

A/N: Soo the thought process behind this fic was inspired by three different pieces of chili fanart I found on twitter (I'll link it in the end notes) and the concept that my mutual put in my head of Zhongli turning Childe's skin to gold whenever he touches him. My mutual is a genius. And uhhh initially I didn't expect this to turn explicit, but I just started typing and then suddenly they were going at it lol. But writing them super soft and cute is always such a pleasure, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did :)

But this was so fun to write! Definitely a good break from act vi bc damn that piece just doesn't want to be written right now. I have a collab with miss stereotypicallyasian on the way as well, a Naruto x Genshin crossover that I should be posting sometime toward the end of the week!

--

As soon as he wakes up, Zhongli finds his breath stuttering with a noticeable hollowness in his chest that he cannot quite describe. 

Briefly, he supposes it is merely the effect of his gnosis being taken. But even with the core of his divinity gone, there still remains a vibrant energy coursing through his veins that buzzes with a level of excitement. It’s a nagging feeling, but it is the very thing that keeps him awake at night. Zhongli exhales, nice and slow, and allows the back of his head to press against the pillows he had propped up against the table. His hair is free from its usual hold and it spills across his shoulders in ribbons of black and gold. 

He stretches his legs across the blankets he’s laid beneath him and wiggles his toes, flexes his fingers, twitches his nose. The wind around him responds in kind. Warm Liyuan air wafts through the room at the inn as the sun begins to set, casting an orange glow across the walls. Zhongli feels himself sink into the floor, melting into the plush pillows, and revels in the way he is being held down firmly by the weight in his lap that belongs to his beloved.

He’s been tired these days. 

Only a week had passed after the incident with Osial and his official retirement as the Archon of Geo. Adjusting so far has been strange, and eerily enough, rather easy. Despite the new creaking in his joints and the mild back pain he never quite felt until now, he’s become rather fond of the quaint life he subconsciously built while he was living amongst his people. 

And, well, Ajax’s presence made adjusting rather painless. The Harbinger staying by his side somehow made it easier to to cope with the gaping void in his chest.

Speaking of which, Ajax makes himself known by rolling over and shuffling closer, burying his face in his abdomen. The ex-Archon cracks an eye open and looks down at the smattering of red hair against his stomach. He can’t help but smile at the sight. 

“Ajax,” he calls, voice a deep rumble from his temporary slumber, “it’s getting late. If you continue napping, you’ll have a hard time sleeping tonight.”

He’s answered with unintelligible mumbling, and the vibrations of Ajax’s voice tickles his stomach.

“What?” He breathes out a laugh. 

“Xiansheng I don’t want to get uppp,” Ajax whines as he props his chin against Zhongli’s stomach. He wriggles closer, moving up higher in his lap until his face is pressed up against his chest. Zhongli cradles the back of his head lovingly, and softly runs a bare hand through ginger locks. 

“You must, baobei,” Zhongli tugs on his hair gently, “also because I am getting quite hungry.”

Ajax makes a noise of indignance against him. The ginger looks up, ready to protest, but abruptly halts. 

His eyes widened comically. Ajax stares at him like he had grown a second head, cerulean eyes tracing his every feature as if this was his first time ever seeing him. Any noise or complaint of being woken up dies on his lips as he’s suddenly speechless, any and all vocabulary suddenly void. 

Zhongli’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Is everything okay?” 

“Xiansheng, you’re…” the ginger trails off breathlessly, “by the Gods, you’re beautiful.”

Zhongli sputters. “Well, I am flattered, truly, but--”

“Zhongli,” Ajax all but hisses. He brings a deft finger up to Zhongli’s hair, but doesn’t quite stop at his fringe. He reaches up, up, up and--

Ah. 

Zhongli knows where this is going. This isn’t the first time this has happened. 

Sometimes, in moments where Zhongli finds himself surrendering to the harmonic bliss that surrounds him, he’ll allow himself to lose control over his mortal form and let some of his draconic features shine through. Some days his horns will make an appearance, and other times his scales will begin to blossom across what once was human skin. Tonight, his horns make themselves present, and his eyes have shifted, too.

“Can I…” Ajax starts tentatively. His eyes are blown so wide, and they glimmer with curiosity and a silent joy that is akin to a child being gifted sweets. Zhongli chuckles, nodding his head in silent affirmation. 

The pads of Ajax’s fingers hesitantly make contact with the horns stemming from the crown of his head. They’re beautiful; they glow as if they’re dipped in melted mora, pulsing brightly and casting a dim light across Ajax’s pale skin. They’re quite long, and Ajax gently trails his index finger along the curve of a horn. They don’t stick straight up, though. Instead, it bows backwards charmingly until it tapers off midway toward the back of Zhongli’s head.

Beautiful.

“You’re…” he breathes, “I’ve never seen…”

“It has been a long time since I last let myself truly relax into this form.” 

Ajax’s eyes flicker back down to his face as Zhongli’s voice snaps him out of his reverie. He’s met with eyes glowing bright as cor lapis, pupils almost narrowed into slits, and a few stray ebony scales. 

“Woah…”

Once again with the curiosity of a child, Ajax reaches out to poke at the scales blooming across Zhongli’s skin. The ex-Archon tuts. 

“My apologies, I was not aware that this much of me was visible—“

“Why are you apologizing?” Ajax demands, eyes darting up to his horns once more before locking onto his golden ones. “You’re beautiful, Xiansheng. I had no idea you could even do this.”

“Frankly, I am surprised, too,” Zhongli speaks honestly. Ajax looks at him, stunned. “I didn’t think this could happen without my gnosis. But life has been full of surprises lately, it seems.”

“What else could you do?” Ajax asks excitedly, shifting to where he was sitting up and laying on his side, curled around the latter. He rests against the incline of Zhongli’s body comfortably. They were still pressed against each other impossibly close, legs intertwining. Zhongli’s head presses against the pillow behind him, and Ajax stares at the horn-shaped indent in the cushion inquisitively. Zhongli is filled with an abrupt surge of affection at the sight. It has been a long time since someone looked at him with such fascination in this form. “Without your gnosis, I mean. Obviously you could do a lot with it.”

“I still have yet to see, Ajax, as it’s only been a week since I’ve lost it,” Zhongli murmurs. He brushes a stray strand of hair away from Ajax’s forehead. He presses the pad of his thumb against the growing frown lines developing between the ginger’s eyebrows. “How are you already developing wrinkles? You are still so young.”

“Mean!” Ajax pulls away, rubbing at the spot with the back of his hand. “Says the one who is six thousand years old! In fact I’m surprised you don’t have any wrinkles. Seriously, I’ve never even see you apply moisturizer before and—“

“Ajax,” Zhongli interrupts. This time, it’s his turn to stare at Ajax with astonishment. His eyes, bright and golden, burn a hole through the spot on Ajax’s forehead where Zhongli was just poking at. The ginger can’t help but strain to look up as if he could catch a glimpse of what the half-dragon was looking at. Cross-eyed, he just looked ridiculous. And confused. He was so, so confused. 

“What, what?” Ajax asks anxiously. Zhongli stares at him still, wordlessly reaching up to touch him again. The dragon’s eyes soften, brushing a knuckle right across Ajax’s cheekbone, right underneath a blue eye. The Harbinger sees, then, the gold that shimmers right beneath his vision. Zhongli’s expression is nothing short of enamored, astonished, and downright entranced.

“Is your hand glowing?” he asks. Zhongli shakes his head, listening, but not really. His eyes trail across Ajax’s face, too focused on the path that his hand takes more than anything else. He continues drawing lazy patterns across Ajax’s cheek, and the gold seems to shine brighter. “Xiansheng, what is going on?” 

“Your skin,” he begins slowly, voice lowered into a hush. Ajax has to strain to listen to him. “It seems to turn to gold where I touch.”

“W-what?” Ajax scrambles, but Zhongli places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s temporary, love, do not fret. The spot on your forehead has already disappeared.” 

“Wait, wait, I wanna see!” Ajax demands, suddenly sitting up straight. Zhongli follows suit and corrects his posture, holding his palm out as an invitation. 

“Give me your hand,” he commands gently. The latter complies, and places the back of his hand in the warmth of Zhongli’s own. 

The ex-Archon uses the tip of his finger to trace patterns into his hand, and the skin underneath responds immediately to the touch. It glows an ethereal shade of gold that has Ajax blinking away the spots that form in his eyes from the brightness. And although it goes away as quickly as it comes, it still leaves a tingling feeling across his skin as it disappears. Zhongli doesn’t so much as flinch at the brightness, though, as he continues tracing letters, characters, symbols he’s never seen before, into the palm of Ajax’s hand. The ginger shivers at the touch. It’s so intimate— it’s too intimate— he feels like he’s going to pass out. He can feel an energy so divine being pressed into the palm of his hand, sinking in through his skin and spilling into his bloodstream. Ajax’s heart beat picks up, a newfound energy coursing through his veins. 

It is a blessing that no one could ever even imagine receiving from Rex Lapis himself. 

Because gnosis or not, the being before him was a deity too precious to be touching a soul as blackened as Ajax’s. And yet here he was, accepting such a heavenly gift from Teyvat’s oldest god. 

Ajax almost wants to pull away, but it is his pure curiosity that keeps him in place.

Zhongli continues his trail up the Harbinger’s arm, and this time, he’s drawing flower petals that bloom from thin branches. They encroach upon the inside of his forearm, streaming along his veins as Zhongli draws petal after petal. The half-dragon is quick— quicker than the rate in which the golden lines disappear. He sketches the design of his flowers rapidly across his skin, all while maintaining his gentle hold on Ajax.

The human canvas has no choice but to sit and watch with awe as the design seems to come to life. Blue eyes follow gold, attracted like a moth to a flame, and Ajax is simply unable to look away from the art Zhongli creates on his skin of all things. Ajax’s skin, freckled and marred by years of fighting, is being turned into a work of art made for his eyes, and his eyes only. 

Once again, Zhongli has done what has felt like the impossible. 

But of course, all good things come to an end, and Zhongli stops. With a flick of his wrist, he tapers the tip of the last petal he draws before withdrawing his hand entirely. Ajax watches with the same level of fascination as the golden strokes vanish as if they were never even there. Yet still, Ajax’s skin tingles. 

“Any chance you knew you could do that?” he speaks after awhile, voice uncharacteristically quiet, pensive.

“No,” Zhongli answers, eyes flickering back up to him. “But to be honest with you, I do not wish to stop.”

Ajax’s eyes widen at the statement. “What do you mean—“

Zhongli’s hands grip at Ajax’s hips as he pushes him backwards. The Harbinger gasps, arms shooting out to wrap around his neck for stability. Zhongli crowds him in an instant as soon as Ajax’s back hits the floor. The ex-Archon noses at his neck, peppering kisses along the line of his jugular and watching with dilated eyes as a trail of gold is left behind where his lips once were. The feeling that blossoms in his chest can only be described as some primal satisfaction as Ajax is marked with his stamp of gold.

“I cannot help but wonder,” Zhongli speaks quietly, “if your skin would turn to gold while touching all parts of me.” His voice drops a whole octave. If it was deep before, it was even deeper now, closer to a purr than anything. The sound rumbles through his chest, making Ajax shiver at the noise.

Ajax’s breath stutters. “Oh,” is all he manages to say.

“If you would indulge my curiosity so kindly,” Zhongli begins, voice breathy, “I’d like to see you glow in many other places.”

“Oh my god,” Ajax blushes a furious red, “you have such a way with words, Xiansheng! And just do me already, you’ve never had to ask before!”

“I’m just asking because in this form, I might be… slightly different in some places.” Zhongli’s ears burn red.

“Oh my god,” Ajax all but sobs, “shut up and get inside me old man, make me glow, or whatever.”

Zhongli grins and oh fuck he has fangs, of course he has fangs—

“As you wish.”

Ajax does a lot more than glow that night. In fact, he gets so much more than what he initially bargained for. The sun begins to set, but the darkness that befalls the room matters naught when Ajax is turned into a human lamp every time Zhongli touches him. And gods above, does he touch him.

When Zhongli kisses him, his head spins a little more. When clawed hands squeeze at his hips and almost break skin, his heart beats a little faster. When one, then two, then three oiled fingers slip past the tight rim of muscle with care and makes him grind his hips down impatiently, his breaths come a little shorter. And when Zhongli finally, finally slides in and makes him forget his own name, Ajax can’t help the broken moan that flies past his lips when he bottoms out. 

Holy shit, Zhongli wasn’t kidding when he said he was built a little different. 

Though, they probably needed to gloss over the definition of a little later tonight because apparently, a little meant an additional three whole inches in length and half an inch in girth. The newfound length brushes past places in Ajax’s body he never even knew existed, scratching an itch he wasn’t aware he had.

Was Ajax expecting to be taking his boyfriend’s dragon dick at nine at night when he was supposed to be having dinner? No. Was he going to take it anyway? Absolutely. And in retrospect, Ajax was faring just fine. He had his legs wrapped tightly around Zhongli’s waist and his hands tugging at his loose locks. The amber ends glow brighter at every pull and Ajax just holds onto the strands for comfort at this point.

Zhongli, on the other hand, had his eyes shut and was breathing hard through his nose. 

“Xiansheng?” Ajax calls tentatively. He reaches a hand out to cup Zhongli’s cheek, and almost gets distracted by the luminance his hand emits as soon as he makes contact. 

“I’m alright,” Zhongli says through gritted teeth, “I’m having trouble… regaining composure, is all.”

“What do you mean?” Ajax gasps when Zhongli’s hips flex.

“You…” he struggles, “are very tight. And. My senses are heightened in this form.”

Ajax smiles wickedly, and squeezes around him. Zhongli hisses, biting down hard on Ajax’s shoulder. His fangs almost break skin, but the ginger doesn’t even flinch. 

“Let me on top,” he says instead, “I can set the pace.”

“That might be difficult,” Zhongli begins tentatively, “laying on my back may not be an option at the moment.”

“What? Why— oh, holy fuck.”

Lo and behold, a long, serpentine tail is laid out across the blankets and thumps once, twice, happily in place. It’s thicker at the base where it forms near Zhongli’s body, and smoothly tapers out until the end is covered in silky, golden locks. Ajax swears it sparkles. The hair flows so elegantly across their floor, Ajax almost has the urge to reach out and run his fingers through it. And he would, if he currently wasn’t impaled and unable to move. 

“... I apologize—“

“That is so hot,” Ajax almost weeps. “Please for the love of all Archons, Zhongli, Morax, I’m begging—ah!”

The lilt in his voice as he begs, whining the long lost name, has Zhongli moving before he can register what he’s doing.

Zhongli moves. He throws all caution to the wind and lets himself move recklessly without abandon. Ajax writhes beneath him and takes what he is given with gratitude, praying with breathless gasps and broken moans. Every noise that leaves his throat has Zhongli moving desperately for more. The light between them glows brighter, almost impossibly so, to where Ajax has to squeeze his eyes shut.

There's a moment where Zhongli grinds into him just right that sends Ajax crashing; his head is thrown back when he's all but forced to see stars, and his fingers scrabble to claw at Zhongli's skin for support. His back arches high off the bed and the ex-Archon uses the space to wrap a solid arm around Ajax’s lithe waist. He takes advantage of the bared neck in front of him and immediately noses at his pulse point, licking over the skin before sucking the flesh between his teeth. 

They lose track of time in the throes of their own pleasure. At some point, the sun fully sets, but Zhongli continues to shove him down into the sheets relentlessly. Ajax on the other hand, takes it like a pro and continues to surprise Zhongli with his growing responsiveness. He takes and takes and Zhongli feels like he has no choice but to continue giving. The dance between them is elegant as much as it is animalistic, and Ajax loves it.

Zhongli bites down on his neck slightly, flexes his hips, and the breaking of Ajax’s pale skin and the relentless pressure against his neck has the ginger spilling between the tight press of their bodies. A dragon’s fangs, apparently, are by no means gentle and tear into his skin with ease. Yet, the blinding pain that sears through Ajax’s body sends him tumbling nonetheless. Zhongli fucks him through his orgasm, rutting against him until he tips over at the sound of Ajax's pitiful, overstimulated cries. He shudders as he empties into him, breathing hard against where his face is pressed into his neck. 

They lay there for a moment; Zhongli tries to get his breathing under control, and Ajax tries to focus his vision after it had blurred during his climax. The ginger rakes his nails along Zhongli’s sweaty back, and the sensation brings them both back down from their high. Their breaths are heavy and labored, and Ajax can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips when he finally calms down, because holy shit. He’s going to want to do that every night, now.

Sometime amidst their fun, the golden glow had dimmed, until it all but disappeared. 

"You suck," Ajax gasps after a moment, "you just ruined vanilla sex for me."

Zhongli snorts. "I don't suppose you expect me to morph every time you want to be intimate?"

Ajax's silence speaks volumes. It’s silent confirmation. The latter looks up, disgruntled. He looks so unamused, brows furrowed and everything, it makes Ajax chuckle and kiss the frown away. 

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding, xiansheng," he waves him off, "the only thing I expect from you right now is for you to pull out, oh my god Zhongli, get out of me. You're like those huge dogs that think they can fit in your lap! You're not exactly small, mister Rex Lapis!" 

"Oh, yes, my apologies," Zhongli murmurs. He presses a light kiss to Ajax's freckled shoulder before sliding out, muttering a quiet apology when he winces. He rolls off of Ajax and lays on his back next to him, so they're both staring up at the ceiling. His tail is gone and so are his horns, so he can finally lay on his back comfortably. Zhongli reaches for his hand and intertwines their fingers. He gets a squeeze in response.

“Say, xiansheng,” Ajax starts. “Have you ever been able to do that before?” 

Zhongli looks at him, silently asking him to elaborate.

“Turn someone’s skin to gold, I mean. With something as simple as touch, too. Has that ever happened?” 

“No,” he answers simply, “I believe this was the first occurrence in my six thousand years of being alive.”

Ajax hums. “So I’m not like. Going to die or anything, right?”

“Why would you die, baobei?” Zhongli chuckles, “you act as if I injected poison into your bloodstream.”

Ajax lets out an indignant squawk. “I! Am still kind of new to the whole dating a god thing! I don’t know what special abilities you adepti hold. And I am a mere mortal, after all!”

The reminder has Zhongli looking at him with sudden sadness. “That you are.”

Ajax hums and offers a small, resigned smile before letting his eyes slide shut. He gave into the exhaustion, it seems.

He’s already dozing off, and his head is tipping slightly to the left. He’s all but slumped into the comforters beneath him, his chest rising and falling with each soft breath he takes. He’s mildly aware that he’s going to have to wake him to clean him up in a few minutes, though, but he allows his lover to rest for a moment. The whirring void in his chest— the one that constantly reminded him of his lost power— finally, finally settles.

Zhongli watches with fascination as the human in front of him continues to glow. The gold is gone, though. Zhongli has shifted back into his mortal form and skin to skin contact no longer summons the bright golden light that was there before. 

Still, Ajax’s skin seems to glow a little brighter than usual. His cheeks are tinted pink and his lips are slightly parted, still plump and swollen from his bruising kisses. Zhongli swears he can see a light blue aura surrounding the lines of Ajax’s body. His chest fills with something warm and pleasant at the sight, thick like the syrup that runs through the veins of Liyue’s trees. It trickles throughout his entire body, down into his core, down his legs and to his arms. Zhongli no longer feels empty. He smiles fondly.

For those that live too long, the friends of days gone by and scenes from their adventures live on in their memories. As such, I have no regrets in meeting you, Ajax. Should the day ever come that we are not together, you will continue to shine like gold in my memories. 

Fanart #1

Fanart #2

Fanart #3

my twitter <3

[redwinterroses]

angsty third life prompt: grian missing his wings. bonus for impulse or tango interaction.

It actually turned out less angsty than I intended... Might revisit this one later. I was also inspired by this one piece of fanart I saw but can't find now, where Grian doesn't just have elytra he has actual parrot wings, but they’d been ripped off. It was beautiful and I am v sad that it has vanished. lol. Anyway, enjoy. ;P

_______

He really doesn’t like being stuck on the ground.

Grian shades his eyes with one hand, gripping his new iron sword in the other, and surveys the desert beneath Monopoly Mountain. The sun is just rising, but the heat rising off the golden sands is already enough to sting his skin and a bead of sweat rolls down his neck. Heat waves shimmer deceptively, nearly making him miss the real form moving across the dunes.

He glances over his shoulder at Scar, but the red-lifer is currently distracted doing… something with the storage chests. There’s no way it’s organizing, but probably best not to ask; instead he takes the chance to slip away.

Sliding down the side of a massive dune, he skids to a stop just as Impulse reaches the foot of the mountain.

“Halt, who goes there?” Grian says, brushing sand off his jeans and holding up one hand to stop Impulse. “Friend or foe!”

“Friend, friend – always a friend.” Impulse grins, and raises both empty hands. “Just came to chat with Scar.”

Grian rolls his eyes. “You’ll leave with less gear than you came,” he warns. “Scar’s been scamming people out of their stuff all day.”

With a gesture, Impulse dismisses his concern. “I heard, I heard… which is why I brought extra.” He pulls a pair of enchanted iron shoes out of his rucksack and waves them temptingly.

That gets a chuckle out of Grian. “Clever.”

Down at the level of the desert the heat is worse than before, and he instinctively twitches his shoulders to fan his wings – but, of course, there’s nothing there. The rough edges of the stumps twitch restlessly under his shirt, and the dull pain he keeps trying to ignore spikes a little.

Impulse, narrowing his eyes, rearranges the strap of his rucksack and jerks his head toward the distant treeline. “You want to… take a walk?”

“You just got here,” Grian says, but he glances up the cliff toward where he left Scar. He could slip away, just for a little bit… “But sure – this place is blazing hot. I almost can’t think in this heat.”

“You’re telling me. Come on, there’s a little pond just over that first hill; we can cool off there.” Impulse turns and starts trudging back towards the distant shadows of the trees..

Grian follows him, his feet sinking into the soft, shifting sand. He hates how it drags him down, hates the way it gets into his shoes and between his toes, as if it’s trying to remind him with every step that he can’t escape it.

“You, ah… you okay there, G?” Impulse’s longer legs have taken him further ahead, but he stops and waits for Grian to catch up. “Looking a little… tired.”

“Just – hating gravity is all.” Grian forces a little laugh and doesn’t stop when he reaches Impulse, continuing on. Ahead of them, the shady forest promises cool relief. “Stupid, I know.”

“Ah.” Deliberately slowing to keep Grian’s pace, Impulse nods. “Yeah, I miss elytra. It’ll be great to get back to Hermitcraft and be able to fly again – I bet it wouldn’t even take two rockets to cross this entire world.”

Grian doesn’t answer, but his wing-stubs flutter again in frustration. He feels so heavy. So earth-bound in this place – this tiny world that ripped his wings from him and dropped him into a killing game he only had a slim chance of surviving.

“Oh… right.” Impulse sounds like he’s answering a question no one asked. “Gosh, Grian, I’m sorry – that was pretty insensitive. But you’ll get your wings back too.”

I hope.

Neither of them say it, but they both think it – and know the other one is thinking the same.

As they finally reach the cover of the trees, and step into its cooling shade, Grian pulls off his shoes and shakes the sand out of them. “Stupid sand,” he growls. “Stuff gets everywhere.”

“You don’t have boots yet?” Impulse raises an eyebrow. “They keep the sand out—”

“No, Impulse,” Grian doesn’t even bother keeping the irritation out of his voice. “I don’t have boots yet. Or armor, or a decent kit, or anything but bread to eat, or even a partner who’s not probably certifiably insane.” He tucks the shoes under his arm, electing to go barefoot on the soft grass, and snaps: “Where’s this pond?”

Impulse doesn’t react to his harsh tone, and the sympathy in his face makes Grian feel like he should apologize. But before he can, Impulse leads him deeper under the oaks to a small, sandy-shored pond. “There,” he says, pointing. “And good idea – think I’ll stick my feet in too.”

They sit down in the shade of a massive oak tree, and Impulse pulls off his own boots, dropping them with a clank into the grass. Stretching, he leans back and lets his now-bare feet fall into the water. “Ahhhh,” he says. “Yep. That’s exactly what I needed.”

Dipping his own toes into the clear water, Grian weaves his fingers into the grass, and gives a sigh.

“Sorry, Impulse,” he says, his voice softer against the distant sounds of birdsong and the wind rustling the leaves overhead. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just… hard to get used to, you know? Being… grounded.”

Impulse reaches over and claps him on the shoulder. “Hey,” he says. “It’s not forever.”

“No, just until I die. Or everyone else does.” For the first time, the realization that there will only be one survivor of this game strikes him fully, and he looks over at Impulse. “Impulse… by this time next week, one or both of us could be dead. We might kill each other.”

Impulse shakes his head. “Nah…” he says, but then falls silent, any further protest dying on his lips. They both know it’s true. As peaceful as this moment is, shared in the cool quiet of the oak grove with their bare feet making ripples in the water, it can’t last.

“Might be worth it,” Grian adds suddenly, forcing his voice to be light. “Cause some chaos, go out in a blaze of glory – just to… you know. Get back.” Back to Hermitcraft. Back to the sky.

“Aw, come on, G. Don’t talk like that – you’ve got a real shot at winning this thing.”

Grian shrugs noncommittally. “Maybe,” he says.

But I’d rather fly than win.

[spirits-n-giggles]

How long have you been an Inuyasha fan.

Story time.

Seriously. This is all going going be incredibly useless information, but you asked, so.....

Hmm..... I have been a fan ever since about like.... 2005ish? Give or take? I was a little late to the fandom, since i think the series was almost to its halt by this time.

I'm 26 now, so I think I was about 11 when I saw it for the first time. My friend immediately told me to pick a dude to like. I didn't like any of them, except maybe Naraku because of that HAIR. The first episode I saw was where Naraku sends Sesshomaru to fight Inuyasha and Miroku (season 1-ish) with the Saimyosho and quickly learned that both Naraku and Sesshomaru were both dicks to the apparent protagonist of the show, so I hated them both for a while.

I wanted to start it from the beginning, though. I go online trying to find season 1. Just when I think I find it - I end up finding and watching the 1st movie instead. I didn't know it was the movie until I saw a whole bunch of new people like this lady with a big ass boomerang??? and a flying demon cat with 2 TAILS - WHAT!? Needless to say I was confused lol. This was also where I see a little girl with the Sesshomaru asshole for the first time. I was like.... the fuck.... who is she?.....

So I gave up on trying to start the show from the beginning, and just continued with the regular adultswim programing. By the time I got back to the show on adultswim, it was well into the show and I remember an episode where the Inuyasha group would comment on the same little girl asking why this human hating Sesshomaru guy has some human girl with him. They were just as confused as I was and I was like THANK GOD IM NOT CRAZY.

It would be a LONG time before the show would re-loop on TV, and I get to see how SessRin met. Rin was my favorite for a long time because she was the only character that I didn't know about, and she was always there just to make people smile. That was her goal in the entire show. She was the only one in the show (before Yashahime) that didn't cause drama.

BOY DID THAT CHANGE 😂😂😂😂

I became a sessrin fan when I was drawing all of the characters individually, and I used Google images to find all of the characters. There has always been lots of fanart for Inuyasha (and sessrin), and I kept seeing these AMAZING and BEAUTIFUL pieces of her growing up and being with him. I even found a fan comic where she lived in a human village and grew up before seeing him again. That stuff was EVERYWHERE. Obviously she was supposed to grow up to about Kagome's age after the show and end up with Sesshomaru. Like. DuH. -- that was my thought process at the time and I just accepted it.

BUT THEN THE SHOW ENDED BUT THE STORY WASN'T OVER.

I was actually convinced that Sesshomaru was going to end up with Kagura in the show before the final act came along (I collect fans becsuse of her, and I'm convinced Kagura was my first girl crush on a cartoon character lol 🥰 ) but then she died and I cried- for both her AND Kanna like a sissy girl. Then the show ended and I was like - huh... that cute little Rin growing up idea would be cute and it would fit with how the show ended. How nice. ^_^ and I would go read fanfiction and enjoy my own brain.

But damn..... I NEVER thought they would make SessRin cannon, and that's probably because I live in America and (fictional) romances like this aren't very common in pop culture, and when they are, they are usually ridiculed. Look at how some people handle the Disney cartoon of Beauty and the Beast.

There is this huge, dark, and nasty pit of hypersexulization that the U.S. lives in, and we have hit rock bottom more than once. We somehow seem to be both over-sexualized, and sexually ignorant of how to handle the more mature endeavors in pop culture. Even though I would understand the simplicity and the obvious bond that would last between Rin and Sesshomaru, and would use my context clues to understand and enjoy the idea of a slow burn romance like that, I would also come to understand that not everyone would see it the same way. So, in my mind, it would never have been a possibility.

But then I forget that it's Anime, and Anime has its very own set of rules.

[sae-midori]

A Little Update, A Little Soul Baring, and Lots of Moving Forward

I’m so sorry I’ve been away for so long! Many, many apologies to you all. It makes me sad I’ve been unable to share any new art with you for such a long time. (╥﹏╥) After making the decision to quit my floral job last year to finally embrace the thing in life that makes me the happiest (making art to share with you!), 2020 came along and brought everything to a screeching halt. I knew this year would have its natural challenges - going from a stable income to complete uncertainty with trying to making a living from my art is a really big and scary step. And then 2020 brought a huge unexpected wave of struggles to my door. I’m sure you too are facing many of these same challenges. And it’s been hard for everyone.

This summer ended up being a really frustrating one for me, and it left me unwilling to draw. All the unrest and injustice in the world, the abnormally intense summer heat (I have no air conditioning), and the suffocating smoke and eerie skies from all the many fires in California where I currently live - it made me feel frustrated and full of anguish. I’m the type of person who draws inspiration from my environment. So when the scenery around me was burning and the psyche of the world was plummeting in a downward spiral, I feared that all that negativity would end up going into my nature scenes. And that’s not what I want. I want my art to inspire and create a calm and enlightening environment for everyone. And that’s still what I want to do!

Although I have not drawn for the past few months, I’ve spent that time productively doing my best to get rid of all the garbage in my life. I’ve been bringing long-lingering projects to a close and tackling all the little annoyances I’ve been putting off. I’ve also been dedicating time for positive activities too, like writing up patreon tiers, exploring my options for selling my art, educating myself on the logistics of being self-employed, and clearing a path toward the art that I love.

I’m sure many of you have been struggling this year as well, and I just want to say, “You can do it!” We can all get through this and carve out that brighter future that we want to live in. Brighter things are definitely going to come for me, and for you too in terms of art! October, November, and December have always been incredibly positive drawing times for me. With beautiful autumn leaves appearing and refreshing crisp fall air, I can’t help but feel inspired! So this October, I’m dedicating all my time to work on RWBY nature scenes. Many of the scenes are already 75% - 85% complete. A few late comers are only 10% - 35% complete, but they should quickly catch up to the others. Working on all these pieces have taught me so much, and I’m super excited to return to them. And for you, that means I’ll be sharing many more art snippets as I work. And when I finally so finish them, you’ll definitely be met with a blossoming flurry of RWBY art all at once (as well as a couple other fanart & originals I’ve been working on in secret)! ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)

Thank you so much for your incredible patience and positive support as I move forward. Those are the greatest gifts I could ever receive from anyone, and I feel so blessed that all of you have already shown them to me. It means so much that you’ve stuck with me all along as I try to figure things out in my own time. And I most certainly will!

Thank you so much, everyone! My next post will definitely be of art!

❤⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )

[rawrroarart]

Dreamer of Stars

[Little Witch Academia, Diakko, Slight Astronomy/Moon&Stars, Slight Mythology]

Diana wishes to be found.

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

Well, tumblr deleted my last post of this so I guess I’m just gonna keep posting it until it stays put.

Hi everyone, this took so long to write but I’m really happy with how it turned out despite my days of agonizing pain. Please read it so that I’ll be motivated to write more because I really like this one and hope other people will too. (I really wish I was around when LWA popularity was at its peak lol but it is what it is)

Read it on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13506038/1/Dreamer-of-Stars

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23734732

Inspired by: Sleeping At Last (Venus), lots of fanart (mainly tonton), Diana (who makes me cry), and my girlfriend (who taught me the stars)

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

The first time it happened, it felt natural. While it did catch her by surprise, the moment alone and euphoria that accompanied it didn’t allow any discomfort and questioning to break through. She wasn’t hesitant, nor did she think twice upon what was happening, but this moment alone was the key culprit to her restless agitation that would consume her in the many months to come.

As they gazed up at the stars, the dreamer buried deep inside her heart believed that if she were to reach out her arm, she would be able to take ahold of them, as if the stars and perhaps even the moon was for her to control. Their elevation into the atmosphere ruled over her imagination, and she knew mapping out each point of light pathed the way to the rest of the universe. It was breathtaking, and strangely felt personal, as if it was only a sight for them and them alone, and nobody for the rest of time would be able to recreate it.

The ground seemed so far away from where they stood. And with the return of the Shiny Rod into the night sky, the Big Dipper shone an even brighter light, enveloping them in its glow as if they were destined to be the bridge between space and earth.

The Shooting Star wobbled from its once stagnant position, and it was then that her fantasy of astronomy came to a halt. “Akko, be carefu-'' She didn’t get to finish her concern before the slender arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her in, and the chestnut haired girl buried her face into her shoulder.

Feeling a slight dampness of her clothes where the eyes of the other witch would be and the small sniffles against her ear, Diana only sighed, but smiled as she rested her head atop Akko’s, and her arms moved on their own to hold her back.

“Guess what?” The unnaturally soft voice muffled through her collar, and she couldn’t help but shiver from the sound. Was Akko always this capable of a gentle tone? And if so, why now?

“Hm?”

Akko removed herself from her shoulder, grinning wide through her tear-stained face as they stood so close that should she move any closer their noses would touch. Tears continued to fall from her brilliantly crimson eyes, enhancing her natural sparkle that Diana was sure another universe existed in her eyes alone. The contrast of red against the deep blue of the sky stole away her breath, and she waited for the dazzling smile to speak the words that she could not seem to find.

“We did it.”

It was three words, but Diana understood completely. Processing the events that had transpired until that very point took a little longer than expected, but who could blame them? Partaking in a battle that had nearly cost them their lives and the entire fate of the world and then winning was almost too much to believe. Perhaps where they stood was actually the afterlife? The two of them set to watch over from the heavens for the rest of eternity. Was that why everything felt surreal and dreamlike?

She could only nod in response, offering a smile in return from the relief and ecstasy that she could not describe. And they pressed their foreheads together, reveling in their victory and unmoving from each other’s hold as the Shooting Star began its careful and slow journey to return them to the ground.

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

There had always been an unspoken barrier between her and the rest of the world, and she knew it. From the moment she was born, the expectation and weight of her heritage had been thrust upon her, and her fate had already been sealed to become what everyone destined her to be. That isn’t to say she resented her birth, far from it even. She was proud of her home and ancestors and aspired to continue to follow in what they believed, even aiming to become the greatest witch to excel where they had fallen.

This ambition and privilege of birthplace forced her into solitude, not in the literal sense of physicality, but rather many came to resent her, and those that didn’t kept a respectable distance away whether they meant to or not. Over time she came to learn that this was just the way it was and grew accustomed to think nothing of it. Only her mother had ever really touched her in form of affection, holding her close and kissing her head. But that was a long time ago, and perhaps her mother was just an abnormality.

When the Shooting Star had landed safely onto the floor, Akko was immediately tackled down by a giggling group of teenage witches that congratulated her on her achievement. Diana watched as Amanda locked Akko’s head into her arm, playfully ruffling her hair as Lotte and Sucy both clung onto Akko’s body. Jasminka picked them all up off the floor in a bear hug, and Constanze held on where she could as her short legs dangled in the air.

A ping of emotion wanted her to join, but she knew the moment wasn’t for her. Akko was the hero after all, and it wasn’t right to intrude where she didn’t belong. Instead she received a dutiful “Good work!” from Professor Ursula and Professor Croix who returned from whence they came, as the three of them stood and took in the excitement that radiated from the bubbling crowd before them.

That’s just the way things were.

If only Akko hadn’t done what she did in the sky, she could have moved on with her life the same way she had before, knowing no one would dare approach where they weren’t permitted. Curiously enough, she didn’t remember if she had ever prohibited anyone from approaching her in the first place. But now a faint ghost of where Akko had hugged her lingered on her body, and if she tried to erase it, it would only grow stronger. Memories of her mother appeared one after the other, and it was almost painful to remember a time she felt wanted, not for her status or abilities, but just for who she was.

When they all had returned to Luna Nova, her closest friends immediately ran up to her, tearful and blubbering in their words of praise and admiration. She waited and listened, thanking them for their compliments as modestly as she could. It was overwhelming how high of a pedestal they put her on, and her mind wandered to a timeline where they wouldn’t hesitate to tackle her down in a hug the same way Akko’s friends had tackled Akko down. With Akko’s hug still in her thoughts, a small part of her wanted to ask them for a hug, but perhaps that was betraying a boundary that they had set for their own comfort. Instead she stood there with a soft smile on her face, glancing as they instead excitedly clutched onto each other with each applause.

It was the same for anyone else she passed. Her classmates congratulated her in awe, staring as if she weren’t a student the same as them. Her professors respectfully nodded, singing praises of her being the ‘star of Luna Nova’ and of course she would be victorious because she was a Cavendish after all.

On the other hand, Akko was somehow being scolded for being reckless, but all in good nature as they congratulated her too. Many approached her, offering handshakes and hugs in thanks one after another. Even Professor Finnelan, Akko’s least favorite person and vice versa, very briefly patted her on the shoulder for a job well done.

Why didn’t anyone pat her on the shoulder?

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

A few months had passed when it happened again. Everyone had finally settled down after the Noir Missile and class was back to the way it was before. She was on top of any class she took, as per usual, and everything was at peace as if the Noir Missile had never happened at all. This familiarity made it easy for her mind to return to the period where she had never yearned for touch, and all was as well as it should be.

“Diana!” Akko came rushing into their morning class of the day, clutching a now wrinkled piece of paper in her fist as she scanned for where Diana was sitting. It didn’t take her long as Diana always sat in the same seat anyway, but the moment she spotted her a bright smile appeared and she began her dash up the stairs.

Diana felt a slight increase of heart rate being the subject of Akko’s joy, and she watched the odd girl nearly trip over Barbara seated in her path. Offering a weak apology with uninterest, Akko ignored Barbara’s complaints as she shoved the paper into Diana’s face. Her finger pressed onto the corner of the paper where a red ink marking lay, the grade ‘B+’ written in bold.

Before she had the chance to speak, Akko instead spoke first in a rather loud voice, “You’re the best tutor ever!” and then immediately squeezed her into a hug so hard that it almost hurt. “Thank you!” And the hug was gone as quick as it came, as Akko bounced away to her own seat in high spirits yelling something about ‘seven p.m. again, okay?’ that she woozily nodded to.

Hannah and Barbara expressed the shock on their faces that she hid, and they turned around to start arguing with Akko about something she wasn’t listening to.

She just stared at her desk and the notebook she was writing on before Akko had interrupted her, unsure what language it was in as her ability to read disappeared. Her body felt like it was burning, and she knew the only way to make it stop was to be held again. But was there a way to naturally achieve that goal without forcing the other party into discomfort?

…

…Would Akko hug her again if she helped her pass another test…?

…

At seven pm she arrived with extra notes.

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

Akko was weird.

There was no other way to describe it. She thought that the hugs were just Akko’s way of showing thanks, but it seemed Akko had no regard for social cues and her personal boundaries at all anymore. It wasn’t like Akko was too dumb to notice she was so close, but rather she just didn’t care in the first place. Perhaps Akko had come from an environment where it was normal to be close to everyone you know, then she really had no room to judge. But to her it was weird, and she couldn’t help but feel tense and awkward as Akko sat next to her.

It was dinner time and she was reading a book as normal days go, occasionally tuning in to Hannah and Barbara’s conversation as they sat across from her. Lazily feeding herself a small parfait offered for dessert, she felt relaxed in the ideal situation of her friend’s voices, a good book, and a sweet dessert. Perhaps this was her most favorite time of the day, and she zoned out into the story as her spoon hung down against her lips.

She was aware when Hannah and Barbara had abruptly stopped talking, but her tranquil mood kept her from switching into alert, and she continued reading without regard to the world outside her mind. Once the foreign lunch tray was placed directly next to her did she suddenly jump in surprise at the sound and tray in her field of vision, and her head turned to Akko simply digging into her dinner as if she belonged.

Her, Hannah, and Barbara just stared at their intruder who paid them no mind.

“Um. What are you doing here?” Hannah had spoken up first.

Akko blinked at her, confused, as she chewed her food. “What do you mean?”

Hannah and Barbara immediately twitched their eyebrows in annoyance at Akko playing dumb. “Go away.”

“Eh? You don’t own this table! I can sit wherever I want!”

“Well we don’t want you here! Go away!”

Akko completely ignored their orders, turning to Diana with a cute smile, “Whatcha reading?”

Diana looked up towards the table that Akko normally sat at with her friends in hope to receive some answers. Lotte caught her glance and pointed at Sucy, who in turn shrugged yet failed to hide a mysterious potion resting atop their table which contents burned through Akko’s seat like acid. Perhaps Akko was tired of the experiments for the day and decided to leave, and she turned back to Akko waiting for an answer and sighed as she removed the spoon from her mouth to speak, “It’s a collection of Roman mythology.”

“What?! No way! I thought you’d be reading something boring!” Piquing her interest, Akko leaned closer to read too, pressing her body against Diana’s arm as she ate.

“Akko. Go. Away.” Hannah and Barbara threatened, fire in their eyes as she continued to ignore them.

“Ehhh? But I’m hanging out with Diana…”

They all turned to Diana for approval, but she herself wasn’t sure what should be approved. Her body was tense, and she was in a mental battle against herself of whether she liked Akko touching her or not. As much as she desired the physical contact, would it not be better to ‘rip off the band-aid’ now than get used to the feeling and later mourn the loss again?

In preparation to shoo Akko away, she made the mistake of looking into the bright hopeful pools of crimson that threw her memories back to their intimacy in space, and she found her mouth unknowingly saying the words, “It’s fine.”

Thankfully, Hannah and Barbara respected her odd decision, shrugging amongst themselves as they eventually returned to their conversation from before.

In a panic for the rest of dinner, she and Akko read some more stories together without Akko ever moving from her arm. This was the longest anyone has ever touched her in years, and she held back a disappointed cry when the end of dinner was announced.

At least since then, very occasionally Akko would return to read whatever she was reading, and sometimes she hoped for days Sucy would play a prank that drove Akko to sit with her.

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

“…and thus, due to the sun’s gravitational pull and its close proximity to Venus and Mercury, both of these planets show an instability in obtaining a moon of their own.”

Finished with her long speech of the moons of the solar system without so much of a sweat, she didn’t move from where she stood, knowing what to expect as her eyes stayed shut with her arms elegantly crossed behind her back. Her back was perfectly straight, and altogether she radiated the book definition of poise, intelligence, and grace. She listened to the applause that erupted in the rest of her classroom, aware that she had done well in her assignment after days of preparation. When she received her unsurprising grade from Professor Ursula, Diana respectfully curtseyed and headed back towards her seat where her proud friends awaited her.

They spoke in admiration of her words, going over what parts resonated with them the most. She could always count on the two for their feedback, and she gratefully thanked them for the analysis as she squeezed between the rows and took her seat. It was another day, another grade. It wasn’t so hard to continue her reputation in these times, and she was glad that nothing ever seemed to change. This was her life, and she had to get used to it.

Patiently waiting for Professor Ursula to look over a list of names to call the next person up to the board to speak, her mind wandered to a universe where her friends would take her by the hands and playfully tell her what went wrong with her speech, but they would all laugh at the statements that held no weight. And she would be able to hold their hands throughout the rest of class, smiling as the three of them listened to the essays to come.

“Psspsspsspsspss!”

Her ears twitched at the sound behind her that seemed to be calling for her attention as if she were a stray cat, wary of strangers and wishing to go on her way in the normal cat life she lived. As cats do to unfamiliar noises and surroundings, she turned around to the source with curiosity, seeing Akko awkwardly leaned halfway against the desk with an outstretched hand and her palm raised as if in motion to ‘stop.’

Diana raised an eyebrow at the hand, uncomfortable with the eager look Akko gave her as if expecting her to reciprocate something she didn’t know.

Akko gave a defeated sigh, motioning with her other hand to offer her wrist.

Diana complied with the command, interested in what Akko had planned as she carefully placed her wrist on Akko’s fingers. Akko quickly morphed her hand to take the same ‘stop’ command that she had and held it up for her as Akko slapped the now open palm with a grin.

“High five! You did good!”

Diana winced at the stinging pain in her hand that didn’t actually hurt but caught her by surprise and confused her. She was aware of the concept of ‘high-five’s’ and what events typically lead to such actions, but it wasn’t like she had ever done it herself. Blankly staring at her still raised hand, she snapped out of the trance while the lingering sense of touch stayed against her fingertips as Akko unexpectedly jumped at the sound of her name being called.

“Ah! Sorry, give me a second!” Akko rummaged through her bag, filing through a noisy mess of crumpled papers in agony. “It was here somewhere…!”

It was humorous how different they were. Akko was everything but the definition of poise, intelligence, and grace. Yet that’s what made her so endearing, and so… herself.

Diana smiled as Akko pulled out a small stack of papers stapled together at the corners, watching as Akko scurried out of her seat and apologized again for the delay at the center stage of the classroom.

Akko took a deep breath as she held her paper to her chest, almost as if it were an essay dear to her heart and unmeant to be heard by the masses of ears that awaited. But she gave a signature confident grin, not bothering to read from her assignment as she boldly proclaimed the words, “Today I’m going to tell you about the goddess of the Moon, Diana!”

And Diana knew Akko was truly talking about the actual mythological story of the Roman goddess Diana and then later the origin and stories of the names of the moons themselves, but the way Akko had started her speech and looked directly at her with her big crimson eyes full of wonder and excitement made her want to believe that perhaps the speech was dedicated specifically for her alone.

And she wondered when Akko had stolen her book on Roman mythology.

When Akko returned to her seat, an itch on her mind wanted to turn around and return the favor of a high-five for a job well done. But when she had moved an inch to offer, Akko was already being high fived by her peers and laughing at all the errors in her presentation in a loud friendly bubble that she would never be a part of.

Diana instead gently praised her with a few words, and that was the end of it.

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

Unbeknownst to many people, Diana was a night owl.

She was aware of the normal sleeping hours she was supposed to partake in, but something about the nighttime was so alluring and drew her in. It was always quiet, and no one expected anything of her (other than to sleep), and she could enjoy her time alone by reading a book, drinking tea, analyzing the stars, or even studying to get ahead where she didn’t need to. It was easy for her to fall into an educational hole where new discoveries excited her and kept her awake, and she was free to be herself without any obligations.

This was not one of those nights.

A pillow rested atop her face, acting as a makeshift sleeping mask to block out the deep blue of the moon gently lighting up her vast dorm room. The night sky never bothered her before, but she was desperate to fall asleep and took out her frustrations on as many reasons as she could come up with. She could hear the same soft snores from her roommates that she had been listening to for hours, and she almost wanted to be annoyed at them for sleeping while she couldn’t. But that was silly, and she knew the fault was in herself.

Or perhaps it was Akko’s fault?

Silly, again. It was wrong to blame others for reasons they did not control. She groaned, moving the pillow to her chest to hold it, wishing that her beloved teddy bear was there with her to confide in.

Diana was homesick. But not in the traditional sense where she wished to sleep in her room at her manor. (Though, her bear was there, so perhaps that was what she wanted as well). Instead what she missed was being a child. Overjoyed by the thought of Shiny Chariot and ranting to her mother who was alive to listen and encourage her to chase her dreams. And her bear, who was her best friend, that, too, quietly listened to what she had to say and followed her wherever she needed to go. She missed her mother patting her head and tucking her hair behind her ears. She missed her mother gently kissing her forehead and carrying her despite the weak and sickly body she dealt with. She missed her mother embracing her and telling her that she loved her. She missed being loved.

To return to a place where she felt loved was her home. And as it turned out, for many years now, she did not have a home.

And it was Akko that continuously reminded her of this.

She desperately wished to be held again, and her mind and body ached from the selfish desire. It wasn’t like she was trying to hold anyone else, so why should they act where she could not? Her mind bounced back to Akko who did not have a care in the world, and she was sure that if she just opened her arms in invitation, Akko would not hesitate to jump in. But was it wrong to take advantage of Akko’s kindness? To use her for selfish gain?

Shaking her head at the despicable thoughts of using another person, Diana restlessly got up off her bed and put on a pair of slippers, shuffling her feet towards the exit of her room without so much of a squeak. What she needed was a glass of water to clear her mind, and hopefully by then she would be able to fall asleep.

Careful not to wake her roommates, Diana slipped out of the room into the hallways illuminated by the moon’s light beaming through the large windows of the school. She adored large windows that stood high overhead and made the plan to bask in the moonlight after she obtained her water.

Filling up a small glass in the kitchen, Diana silently made her way back to her room, taking careful sips as her eyes studied the night sky through the windows. Lately the stars had meant much more to her than they had before, and she found herself studying more astronomy than she expected. Astronomy specifically wasn’t in their curriculum, but it wasn’t difficult to be able to mix it in during the astrology class that she already dominated in. Nearing the turn towards her dorm, Diana stopped walking to stare up at the sky wondering if she should invest in a high-quality telescope.

No one could relate, but she severely missed being so close to space on a single broomstick, up high where nobody else could reach as if it were just her and Akko against the world. Only then had she ever felt so natural, like it was meant for the two of them to be one with the stars forevermore.

Gazing back down to remove herself from the fantastical dream, she held back the emotion that attempted to thrash its way out of her practiced hold, feeling the pain in her heart that she pressured to be still and disappear. Though, it wasn’t working as well as it had before with her desires only growing stronger with each passing day.

Caught up in her will to be calm, it was then that she had come to realize she hadn’t been alone. Outside in the balcony not too far in front of her was the familiar brown of the chestnut-haired witch who seemed to constantly be running through her mind however long she was awake. Akko stared up into space alongside her, a serious and thoughtful gaze on her face that Diana was sure that nobody else had seen before.

She could pretend she had never spotted her, but Diana felt drawn from the curiosity of what Akko could be thinking this late at night. Her aspirations to always learn more, even when it involved other people, moved her forward, and she found herself opening the doors that led out, wincing at the brisk cold of the air that stung against her once warm skin.

Akko had yet to notice her arrival, and from their closer proximity, Diana could capture the troubled and melancholy eyes that wavered as they tracked the stars. It wasn’t until a tear perfectly fell down Akko’s pale cheek that her worries kicked into overdrive, and she announced her presence with a stern “Akko.”

“D-Diana?!” Akko screamed from the surprise, jumping about a foot in the air as she furiously rubbed away her tears. Her awkward instinctual smile took over, and she rapidly sputtered out the words “I didn’t steal anything, I swear!” She emptied her pockets as if to prove her point, smiling meekly in hopes that Diana would believe her and let her off the hook.

Diana rolled her eyes as she walked closer, “If you had stolen something, then it would have been a dessert. And if it was a dessert, then you would have eaten it by now.”

Akko gulped at her expert deduction abilities, holding her hands up as if she were a criminal caught red handed. She was surprised to find that instead of a scolding, Diana instead handed her the glass of water and motioned her to drink.

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked, in a much softer tone than she had been using.

Akko took a moment to think, drinking sips of the water before frowning into the reflection of her and the moon above. She hadn’t expected the voice of concern from Diana, and she awkwardly shuffled her feet as her mind picked through the words in her head.

Diana gave her time to answer, walking to the edge of the balcony and looking back up. The stars were somehow brighter now that she was outside, and she wasn’t sure why she had never thought of it before to be outside when she needed to think.

“I’m just…” Akko started, anxiously rubbing her fingers against the smooth glass of the cup. She furrowed her eyebrows as she continued to stare at herself in the water, a thousand thoughts passing through her head and Diana unable to imagine any of them. “…lonely.”

“Lonely?” Diana tilted her head in confusion, hoping for clarification of what that meant. Akko was surrounded by many doting friends and professors, so she wasn’t sure in what way Akko could be lonely. It reminded her of the reason for her own restless night, and she resisted the urge to selfishly bring out what she wanted in response. It was Akko that needed comfort right now, not her.

Akko was visibly uncomfortable by the questioning, and Diana knew it was time to drop the subject. Though, Akko did apparently have the ability to talk just as she was about to, and Akko continued the conversation with, “Sometimes I feel like I’m not enough.”

“It’s not your fault. You’re only gaining your magic back after all-“

“It’s not that.” Akko was unwillingly crying again, doing her best to hold back her tears without a sound.

They fell, one after another, and Diana stayed silent. Her fingers twitched to move, wishing to test her theory and hold out her arms for an embrace, but that was extremely inappropriate in their situation, and she was still. Correctly understanding emotions was a subject she continued to have trouble in. There was no formula or correct answer that would solve everything, and she thought too hard on her actions and ended up missing the chances that would have been ‘correct’.

“I’m sorry.” Akko mumbled, and Diana wasn’t exactly sure why she was apologizing.

“It’s fine.”

But Akko was trembling, biting her tongue to avoid an explosion. She seemed to want to say something, to cry out or lash out, but Akko was seemingly trained in the art of masks as well, and she held it in.

Diana’s mind commanded herself to do something about it, but she resorted to the safest bet she could with her words and said, “You’re doing fine.”

But somehow, those were the wrong choice of words as a river of tears gushed out of Akko’s eyes in a steady stream, and Akko’s frustration seemed directed at her and only her. Rapid thoughts buzzed through her mind to try to make sense of what was happening, but all she knew was that she was the cause of this outburst and had to fix it.

Panicking as time passed, Diana’s anxiety soared high, and she only just wanted to hold her and be held as this was all too much to handle so late at night. She wanted to lay down now and be done with it. No more tears or miscommunication or confusion or fear of resentment.

Grabbing Akko’s hand, Diana marched back into the school towards her own dorm. Before opening the door, she shushed Akko to be quiet and snuck the both of them in, grateful that the snores of her teammates were the same as before, and brought them around her dividing bookcase towards her bed. She took the cup of water from Akko’s hand and placed it on her bedside table, motioning Akko to sit down despite the very confused look she was receiving.

Honestly, she didn’t know what she was doing. She just wanted to sleep and for Akko to stop being sad, and it was already too late to turn back anyway as Akko laid down despite not being told to. There was nothing wrong in comforting a friend in need, and she, too, needed comforting that this was the most viable answer.

Akko rested on her side, eyes closed and her tears slowing down to a stop. She almost seemed asleep, and Diana laid at the other side of the bed facing her, curiously watching her but closing her eyes as well. They laid an arm’s length away on Diana’s large bed, quietly resting and listening to each other’s soft breaths.

This was enough. She could imagine what it would be like to be held asleep from this point on and deal with it. And tomorrow would come as all days go, and that’s all there would be to it. Part of her imagined Akko as a cuddly person, and she inconsiderately wished it to come to reality. But that just wasn’t her life, and she knew it wouldn’t happen.

If only Akko agreed to the same terms and conditions.

Her eyes opened feeling the weight against her chest, Akko snuggled in close and clung onto her nightgown with tears still stained on her swollen eyes. But Akko was already fast asleep, calmly breathing and in the most peace Diana had ever seen her in. Perhaps Akko was just like this with everyone, and Diana let her be, closing her eyes and finding sleep to arrive much easier than it had before.

For the first time, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

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

“Say cheese!”

“Cheese.”

“I don’t get it!”

“Get what?”

“How are you not smiling while saying cheese? Say something funny then. Like ‘booty’.”

“No.”

Akko was glaring at her with her hands on her hips. They were in an open courtyard during a small gap between classes, and Akko had dragged her along into some scheme after noticing she ‘never smiled.’ For some reason, Akko started laughing at the word ‘booty’ that she had said herself. And during her fits of laughter, Akko stepped closer and reached out towards the corners of Diana’s mouth, weirdly massaging in circles, “You needa exercise those smile muscles!”

Diana raised an eyebrow as Akko messed with her face, internally enjoying the touch despite Akko pulling at her cheeks. “Smole mosclos?” She attempted, not realizing her mistake as Akko squished her face when she had tried to speak.

“Pff!” Akko held back her laugh.

Seeing the puffed-up cheeks on Akko’s face, Diana couldn’t help but crack a smile back.

And together they laughed, maybe not for the same reasons or in the same volume, but it felt as if it were them alone in the world and time had stopped to accommodate. Akko had thrown her arms around her neck, and they stood close as they continued giggling.

Akko’s laugh was a sound that she wished to be able to save for as long as she would live, and Diana hoped to continue being a part of Akko’s happiness. She knew she wasn’t as funny or relatable as any of their other classmates, but Akko kept coming back to her anyway to share the immense amount of joy that she held within her.

As Akko continued laughing, Diana took notice of the flush on Akko’s face, similar in color to the crimson of her eyes. Her heart raced at the sight, and she took advantage of the only person left in the world who did not hesitate to touch her and held her close. It was the first time she had done so on her own accord, and she wasn’t sure what had prompted her to do it, but both were frozen in surprise.

Before she could let go and apologize, Akko held her back, burying herself into the wavy locks of her blonde hair with a smile on her face.

And she continued smiling too.

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

Perhaps Akko was spoiling her with all the affection she was receiving.

As time moved on, Akko seemingly grew more accustomed to making physical contact whenever she saw her. It wasn’t abnormal to be randomly tackled during the day into a hug no matter how far Akko spotted her anymore, and a small part of her expected it and waited just for that moment to come. Sometimes she’d even pretend to need to walk by one of Akko’s classrooms during passing period so that Akko could easily find her, and she could see the soft resting face instantly turn ecstatic once they made eye contact.

While it wasn’t every day that they hung out, and sometimes she was forced to agonize as day after day passed, many of their usual activities kept her spirits high enough until the next opportunity. They read books together, studied together, stargazed in the dead of night, braided and played with each other’s hair, high-fived (she was getting good at it!), fist…bumped? (this was a new one), hugged, laughed, cuddled, slept.

She was so used to these forms of intimacy now that her typical life plans made room for them, as if it was normal and just the way things were and always have been. It involved expecting Akko to fulfill the hole in her heart that craved to be touched.

And that’s precisely why it needed to stop.

Diana lay in her bed, staring blankly at the night sky with a long, exasperated sigh. It was another restless night, but one filled with thoughts she knew she needed to sort out for the near future. Her arm was outstretched against the rather empty mattress, not moved from its position for the last hour or so.

There would come the day that Akko could no longer keep up with her demands. The day Akko would leave her or realize her friends needed as much attention as she did. And then what? She could not get so used to the fleeting moments of affection like this, as it would only become her downfall once it disappeared for good.

Diana had tried to imagine hugging or holding hands with her own friends that same way she did with Akko, but unlike long before, it instead made her uncomfortable and she didn’t want it. She no longer cared to be touched by anyone that wasn’t Akko, and that was exactly the problem. Akko had unknowingly spoiled her!

Like a true villain, she had been using Akko for selfish gain when she knew it was wrong. And Akko, from the kindness of her heart, never thought once to wonder about her motives, smiling brightly as she always did.

How evil for her to take advantage of the sweet and innocent.

Yet she could not seem to stop. In fact, her egocentric mind only wanted more, and no matter what effort she made to refuse it, she could not stop. The selfish piece of her head was angered that Akko would dare leave her, yet she knew for a fact that Akko was never hers to keep.

Earning a migraine from the mental battle between good versus evil, Diana held onto her head with anguish, wishing to cry out in pain at how much she despised herself that night. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and there was a ringing in her ear that sounded louder with each second.

She could feel the small lump slither around in her blanket, but paid it no mind with the suffering that was too much to bear. When the small twitchy snout of a mouse poked out from under the covers, the beady red eyes followed and paused with anticipation and concern. On normal(?) days, Diana would make room on the bed when the mouse had visited her in the night, but this night she ignored it and partially hoped it would go away and leave her alone.

Transforming back into a human, Akko laid next to her in worry, carefully reaching towards the part of Diana’s forehead that pained her the most. And Diana let her, moving her own hands aside for Akko to gently caress the spot in hopes to soothe the troubles away.

Akko really was too kind to her, and Diana furrowed her eyebrows at how weak she was to temptation. Her eyes were still shut, and she could feel her breathing haphazardly increase in random intervals as her mind spiked in alarm and self-hatred.

But before the panic attack could reach any peak, Akko stretched upward, planting her lips between the furrowed eyebrows that promptly lost all tension they held in response.

Diana’s eyes were wide open then, but she could not see anything as Akko quickly moved up to hold her head against her chest. Listening to the heartbeat against her ear, Diana relaxed, and the pain was no more. She buried her face into the scent of the shirt she had grown familiar with, and could feel herself falling into sleep from the beat that matched her own.

Just one more night wouldn’t hurt.

But Akko needed to know the truth. And it was time to let her go.

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

“Akko, I need to speak with you.”

“Okay, sure!”

She briskly made her way to the exit of the cafeteria, waiting at its doorway as Akko waved to her group of friends and bounced after her. The radiating, carefree smile never left Akko’s face, and with each step closer that she walked, Diana could feel the heavy burden against her heart. She nearly called off the meeting with an escaping ‘never mind,’ but successfully fought the screaming urge as she led Akko into the quietness of the hallway.

Out of coincidence, she had chosen a spot where the entirety of the full moon was visible from the window. Its light shining down exactly where they stood to face each other, as if it were a spotlight and they were the actors in a play.

Akko watched her with interest, staying silent as if to give her time to observe the stars, and she followed her gaze up. The difference between them was that while Akko’s smile grew bigger at the sight of the moon, Diana instead frowned as if the moon’s light was there to curse them, mocking them in its brilliance and edging her to speak.

Diana Cavendish. Serious. Composed. Intelligent. Quick-witted with a sharp tongue. All feared to cross in her path. She could turn down those who opposed her without an ounce of hesitance in the ice of her voice. With careful calculation, any conversation would turn in her favor.

Diana Cavendish. Cold. Distant. Reserved. Life was easy when her emotions were stagnant. She never had to think twice of whether her actions came from the head or from the heart. Logic and reasoning would always be her answer.

Then why now couldn’t she speak?

She could feel herself trembling. As they locked eyes, no words wished to exit her thoughts, and they just stood there. Why did Akko have to smile at her like that? Akko, who treated her with kindness and affection without regard for her title. Akko, whose smile would light up her day and enter her dreams for a brighter morning. Akko, who could easily get her to laugh even when there was nothing to laugh at. Akko, who wasn’t afraid to hold her, and be with her, and care for her. Akko, who reminded her of the stars and their glittering intensity throughout the night, and how she yearned to be in space again where she was at her happiest.

Akko, who would come to despise her should she learn the truth.

She had to let her go. She had to let her go. She had to let her go.

“Diana?”

And Diana felt a burn against her eyes that she hadn’t known its time of origin. She gingerly swiped against her cheek, staring in awe at the foreign tear that had escaped without her knowledge. But it didn’t end there. One after another the tears fell, and, as much as she tried, she could not control it. When had she started crying?

Akko was no longer smiling. Instead, Akko firmly took her hand and dragged her along through the maze of the corridors in a direction she did not know.

She couldn’t remember the last time she cried to this extent. This was ridiculous. To be nearly at the age of adulthood and be childishly crying over her own faults and inadequacies. And in front of Akko, of all people! Akko surely thought less of her after this mess, and her picture of perfection and elegance was now ruined. But did it matter? Akko was going to dislike her anyway, so what was the point?

Before she knew it, Akko had brought them outside of the school where her wet paths of tears now stung against the cold. But she was grateful for it, as her eyes dried from the air and no more tears fell. She stared at the floor as they walked, unsure where Akko was leading her, but uncaring as the outcome would only be the same.

They entered a field she was unfamiliar with, but her eyes stayed glued to the ground as if her shoes were somehow the most interesting thing in the world. She really was like a kid then, and she had to laugh at how silly it felt.

When the first flower appeared in her vision, she couldn’t help but marvel in its luminosity. It was a bright blue in color, and quite literally glowed from its magical roots that reminded her of the moonlight reflecting off the surface of water. Then another one appeared. And another. And another. Until she could no longer see her shoes as the flowers covered them with their abundance.

Eventually Akko had stopped, patiently waiting for her to look up. And when she did, she could only describe what she saw as otherworldly. As if Akko had somehow removed them from Earth and landed on a planet that was coated in every inch of its surface with the peculiar flowers. They stood in the middle of the field and were bathed in the blue hues of the mystical plants that the only other color in the night was the deep red of Akko’s eyes.

As much as she refused to admit it, she was a dreamer. And perhaps where they stood was instead the sky where they guided the world from above in their ethereal realm of flowers.

Akko sat her down in the field, plucking one of the flowers off the ground, and lightly blowing against its exposed head of seeds that easily broke way from the force to release the glowing bits of fluff into the nighttime breeze. They watched them dance and twirl in the air and fly away under the guidance of nature that took them high up until they were visible no more.

If where they stood was the sky, then perhaps these were the stars.

It felt like everything she wanted. To be in space where she believed she could control the stars with Akko by her side. This was a dream.

Spending their time taking turns blowing the magical dandelions, they sat in silence, never once uttering a single word. Akko waited for her to gather her thoughts, just enjoying the presence and having fun with the abundance of flowers that hardly dented in number despite however many they had picked.

When Diana released another cloud into the wind, she could only feel remorse. Like the fluffs that were now free from her actions, Akko must also be able to spread her wings and fly, and she knew what must be done. Loss was something she was all too familiar with. To give up something, whether people or dreams, was just the way her life had always been. Selfishly desiring never achieved anything, and she waited for the seeds to disappear in the air to declare, “I have a confession to make.”

And Akko stiffened in her seat, sitting straight with a red flush across her face as if she were ready. “You do?” She was listening rather intently, Diana could tell, so there was no backing down now.

Diana took a deep breath, trembling again as the thoughts of Akko’s hatred spilled back into her mind. But she knew it had to be done, and Akko was waiting. And she looked her fiercely in the eyes to put an end to the thoughts of escape.

“I have been using you.”

Akko froze, staring blankly from the words that she hadn’t expected to hear at all. Her confusion turned into disappointment and she actually looked offended.

This was it. Diana could not immediately speak with Akko looking at her that way, and she felt all her emotions bubble out at once like a weakened dam that had finally burst.

“Using… me?”

“Yes.” Her mind was melting down, and she wasn’t even sure what came out of her mouth anymore. “Ever since the Noir Missile, I found myself desperately lacking in human affection. Selfishly, I placed the burden on you to fulfill what I desired and continued to use you for my own satisfaction.” Akko would hate her. Akko would hate her. Akko would hate her. “Truthfully, I never planned for it to get this far, but now it seems I entirely depend on only you for this matter and cannot seem to stop.”

Akko was still staring at her, at least instead quizzically as opposed to frustration.

Diana ignored the buzzing in her mind, continuing her explanation in hope that Akko would understand. “As you may tell, this is an issue for when the day arrives that we must part. Unfortunately, there is an evil in my mind that wishes to keep you for myself until the end of time, and I often dream of being with you in space where the stars and the moon are within our grasps and nobody else can reach us. But with as big as a heart as yours, I’m aware that this is an exceedingly selfish request, and so I wish to release you from everything you have given me. Though, I do thank you for providing what may be the happiest days of my life, and I apologize for forcing you for so long to comply with my hopeless needs.” And she was finished and able to breathe.

Akko stared now as if she were an alien, or a fish out of water who had yet to understand anything about the world they lived in.

They sat there in a momentary silence, and Diana felt at ease now that it was over.

“Well that’s stupid.”

She glared at the unexpected insult to her speech. Akko didn’t understand her at all! And the audacity to name her concerns ‘stupid.’

Akko crossed her arms with an exasperated sigh, “Is there a record for ‘Worst Confessions Ever in the History of Ever?’ Because this one would definitely be up there in the top ten -no five.”

She couldn’t understand what Akko was saying. Was her confession not sound in its arguments and points to be understood? Did she not explicitly state the problem and provide a valid answer to fix it?

“Diana?” And Akko was smiling at her, her white teeth shining brightly in contrast to the blue of their setting.

She didn’t know how Akko could smile like that, but again her heart beat faster in response, and when Akko took her hands she knew that Akko hadn’t understood a single word she said. Yet she did not recoil at the touch, even when Akko scooted closer to be near. Did she have to explain again? Moving her mouth to speak, Akko instead used the ability to speak before her.

“It’s really okay! I won’t disappear.”

How odd, she hadn’t said anything about Akko disappearing. But she shut down any prospect of what Akko really meant, as she had done for the past few months. “Did you not hear what I said? I’m using you.”

“Diana.” Akko again ignored what she said with the smile ever growing bigger. “I also have a confession to make.”

And Akko pushed her down into the bed of flowers, still holding onto her hands as she laid on top. The dandelions exploded into the air upon impact, sprinkling the sky with the masses of glowing fluff that hovered where they stopped before beginning their slow descent down. Akko was crying through her smile, almost laughing even as if all of her worries were forever gone.

Diana was fascinated. With the makeshift stars that decorated Akko’s head, and large moon directly above to cast its light down onto them, it was like they were back on the Shooting Star high above the clouds where only they existed. How Akko was able to recreate her idolized scenario, she didn’t know, but she could feel the tears escaping her eyes again as for the first time her dream had become a reality.

And Akko delicately whispered the words, “I want to be with you.”

She was sure Akko could feel the rapid beat of her heart, and the red of their faces matched in color. Trying to find a way to reject what Akko meant, she didn’t get the chance to when Akko continued.

“You don’t have to deny it. Don’t be afraid that I’ll leave you, okay?” Akko pressed their foreheads together, snuggling close as proof she meant what she said.

Deny what? That she feared to be alone, left to fend for herself for years without affection? That once she was given the chance of happiness, she twisted it to avoid attachment in fear that history would repeat, and she would find herself back in solitary? That everything she ever came to love in her life had to be surrendered, no matter how much she desired to keep it?

That, perhaps, maybe, she had potentially fallen in love, and feared that for that reason alone she would lose everything, and with how broken she was already, she’d never be able to pick herself back up again?

That’s silly.

And yet she could not stop crying. In a battle between happiness and fear, she was unsure if Akko would truly keep her word. How long would Akko stay with her? What if Akko grew tired of tending to her needs? Did Akko even realize how much she loved her?

…Did Akko love her back?

As if Akko could read her mind, she leaned forward, gently pressing their lips together in a moment that felt like it lasted a lifetime.

And somehow, that was the answer to her problems, and Diana melted at the touch as a wave of bliss washed away her anxieties.

She almost let out a gasp when the kiss was over as quick as it came, glaring at the crimson-eyed witch for breaking off her peace and elation so suddenly.

"You know, Diana? You're – and you know this means a lot coming from me – a bit of an idiot."

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

You’re late. She thought, glaring hard at the rodent apologetically clasping its hands together in plea. Letting out an annoyed sigh, Diana moved aside on the bed to make room, still pouting when said rodent transformed back to normal.

Akko sheepishly smiled at the harsh look, opening her arms and wiggling her fingers in invitation.

Taking the bait, Diana buried herself into Akko’s chest, relaxing as Akko ran her fingers through her hair and all was forgiven.

She never thought that this would become her normal life. How almost a year ago she believed that she had everything sorted out until the day she would eventually die, and she would be proud if only to have served her purpose in the world. How she didn’t have time to dawdle in these so called ‘emotions,’ as they did nothing but burden her goals and ambitions, forcing her to dream and desire the unrealistic that taunted her from the distance that she could never reach.

But as she listened to the steady drum against her ear, she had to wonder if maybe at least one of her dreams really did come true. That, after all these years, she deserved to be selfish and take what she wanted. That she deserved to be happy as herself, as Akko didn’t expect anything of her other than to return the love she held in her heart.

Attempting to bury her face deeper into the scent of the shirt, she listened with joy as Akko giggled at the ticklish action, and peeked up to meet the big, round eyes that seemed to sparkle whenever they made contact. No matter however many times they looked at each other, she could feel the fluttering inside her chest that wished to stare forever. How the crimson depths of Akko’s eyes told many stories and held a universe of their own, and how she dearly wished to live in the cosmos of that existence for eternity.

Oh, how quick red was to shoot up in her most favorite of colors.

Diana, as she was beginning to admit, was a dreamer. She was an astronomer and Akko was the constellation she had spent her life researching to find, only to realize Akko was instead the universe she was helpless in. Or perhaps it had been her who was a billion tiny pieces, finally pulled together into focus as if astronomy in reverse.

And it was Akko who had discovered her.

And when they pressed their foreheads together once more, she was no longer afraid to admit that she had found her home.

[melon-wing]

Full Moon

This Story was inspired by @gridoc ‘s fanart found here

Grian laid on the soft grass, looking up at the blue sky. The smell of flowers was all around him and he could hear birds tweeting. He loved this part of being a Hippie. He seriously should have tried something like this way sooner. It was so relaxing after a stressful day of working. And the plus side was, he could always be close to his boyfriend. His eyes landed on Ren sitting on top of his RV, playing a few notes on his guitar and humming no song in particular to himself. This was perfect. Or as Impulse had said, the ‘Disgustingly sweet life of a freshly married couple’. And while they weren’t really married or anything like that, the living together thing, albeit temporary, was something new, that both of them enjoyed a lot.

Grian stretched and stood up as the sun started to get closer to the horizon, walking over to Ren, who stopped playing the instant he noticed him and jumped down from his RV.

“Hey, beautiful!”

Grian smiled, stepped up to his boyfriend and gave him a chaste kiss. “Hello there, Handsome.” He distantly heard a gagging sound from the direction of Impulse’s RV, but chose to ignore it. “So what do you say to a nice dinner? Stress taught me a really nice recipe and I thought I could try it tonight. We could even bust out some candles and make it really romantic.”

Ren’s smile faltered and he shook his head. “Sorry not today. It’s… not good. I need to be alone, you know. There’s a full moon tonight.”

Grian sighed and stepped back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He hated it when Ren disappeared once a month during the full moon without telling him anything at all. He had tried asking so often now but never gotten a satisfying answer. Depending on Ren’s mood he either got no answer at all, or was distracted with kisses. Only one time he had told Grian that it was dangerous during the full moon, but refused to give any further explanation.

Ren noticed his foul mood – he always did – and soon soft lips covered his. He opened his mouth begrudgingly at first, but soon got to enjoy his apology make out session. When they separated, both a little out of breath his mood had indeed gotten a little better.

“I’ll make it up to you. Let’s take tomorrow off. No building, no digging. We’ll lock the RV and rock the wheels.” Grian grinned at the idea.

There was another annoyed groan coming from Impulse’s RV. “Oh dear god. I’ll take tomorrow off then. Have fun guys! Don’t break the RV.”

They looked at Impulse and then at each other and laughed, everything else forgotten.

Everything was just perfect.

~*~

Grian loved their new world. He really did. But part of him missed the old place. Getting around had been so easy there. He had been able to see Ren every day and they had spend a lot of nights together. Now it took hours upon hours of rowing for one of them. It was their own fault that they had settled so far apart, but there was nothing you could do about that. They were both builders and once a builder fell in love with a spot, nothing could change that.

Grian swore to try and get an Elytra as soon as he was able to. Maybe he could ask his neighbour Scar for some help. But that had to wait for another day. At the moment Grian was busy collecting sand for his little Hobbit Hole. He really couldn’t carry a lot unfortunately and he hated it. He had to take so many trips to gather all the materials.

As he rowed back, the sun was already setting. He didn’t really fear the night, as long as there were no phantoms flying around. Wait… When was the last time he had slept in a bed? Damn, now that he thought about it, there was a high chance of phantoms spawning around him. Maybe it would be better to spend the night somewhere else. Or to find someone with a bed.

Grian took his communicator out and looked at the coordinates, a smile forming on his face. He was really close to Ren’s little island. Maybe he could go there and crash for the night.

<Grian> Hey Ren. I’m out on the ocean. High chance of phantoms. Can I crash at your place?

Grian waited for a few minutes, watching the setting sun and it’s reflection on the water. There was no answer. Their chat wasn’t really busy today at all. Most of them were working hard and not looking at their communicators.

<Grian> I’ll just come by. If you are not there, I’ll just use your bed. Feel free to join me ;)

Grian put his communicator away and got back to rowing. When he reached ‘Loser Island’ the sun’s last rays were already fading over the water. He had made it just in time. He tied his boat to the dock and went over to Pamela, petting the cow on its head and handing her a piece of wheat before continuing on to the hut.

“Ren?!”, he called out as he opened the door.

There was nobody inside.

“Ren you there?”, he called again. He heard a noise from down below were he knew Ren was working on his base and smiled. Without hesitation he jumped down the hole and landed with a splash in the water down below.

“Ren?”, he asked, looking around and getting out of the water. Damn this place had gotten huge since the last time he’d been here.

Before he could look around for his boyfriend his communicator gave of a series of beeps as a number of messages came in. Maybe Ren wasn’t here after all and had messaged him now.

He took out the communicator and looked at it.

<Docm77> Don’t go there, Grian!

<Docm77> Please answer me! Go somewhere else

<Docm77> Grian tell me you didn’t go. It’s dangerous!

Grian looked at the messages in confusion. What the hell was going on with Doc? He never spammed the chat like that. And what was he going on about?

<Grian> I’m already in his base’s lower level. What is going on, Doc?

There was nothing dangerous in Ren’s base. Sure, it was a little dark, but not dark enough for Mob’s to spawn. The torches lit the place up and the full moon was shining through the window. His communicator beeped again.

<Docm77> You idiot! Run! Get out! I’m coming!

Wait… The full moon? Grian raised his head from his communicator to look through the glass front, seeing the moon rise through the ocean water.

Hadn’t Ren told him to never ever visit him during a full moon? Was he up to something dangerous during that time?

There was a rustling sound behind him. Grian’s heart was beating frantically as he turned around. Something was moving slowly by the wall in the shadows.

“Ren? Is that you? This is not funny.”, he called to the shadow. There was a low growling sound and Grian jumped a little. “Ren…?”

The shadow moved a little and finally the torch light revealed it. Grian’s breath hitched, his eyes widened and fear grabbed his heart. The communicator dropped from his hands falling to the floor. At the other side of the room was a giant wolf with sharp teeth and huge claws and it was staring out of glowing red eyes directly at him.

He wanted to scream, but only a silent whimper left his mouth. That was no mob he had ever seen. It was huge, almost double Grian’s size. And he didn’t have his diamond sword with him.

The eyes of the creature were fixed on him. A tongue darted out of its mouth to lick over the glistening teeth, and finally Grian was able to move again. He tried to ignore the pains that came from a whole day of digging sand and sprinted towards the bubble elevator. He needed to get out of here. With its size the creature probably wouldn’t be able to follow him through the tight space.

But just as he had began moving the wolf started to run as well and it was faster than him. He needed to hurry up. He needed to get out of here. He didn’t want to die here.

He was almost there. He would make it. His hand already hit the water as he reached for it, when something hit him in the side, throwing him to the floor. He skidded over the rough stone for a few metres and then came to a halt, panting heavily. He hurt all over from the tackle and from the stone grating away his jumper and into his skin. He stood up on shaking legs, trying to ignore all the scratches. The wolf stood between him and the exit now. There was no way he could get out of here. This was the only exit. He could try to get out of the glass front if he was able to break it, but without any gear on him there was no way he’d be fast enough and the water pressure would be hard to fight any ways.

He tried not to move. Maybe it wouldn’t notice him. Maybe it wouldn’t go after him if he didn’t trigger its instincts.

The wolf kept its eyes on him and Grian’s heart kept beating faster and faster. He was seconds away from having a full on panic attack. His adrenalin was probably the only thing that kept him standing right now and not cowering in fear.

The wolf slowly crept closer and Grian took a few slow steps backwards, looking around for anything he could use as a weapon, but there was nothing. He grabbed one of the torches standing around, holding it out defensively in front of him. Maybe it would be scared of fire. He kept stepping further and further back, the creature following his every move.

And suddenly his back hit the wall. Panic rose inside of him and he hurriedly looked of to the side for a way to get out. That was when the creature jumped. Grian instinctively held the torch in front of his body. There was a howl of pain and the smell of burning hair in the air. The beast held a claw up to its shoulder and stared at Grian. It looked even more enraged than before

And then it pounced again in wild furry. Grian swung the torch in front of him, but one hit from the giant paw sent it flying.

Grian screamed as searing pain shot through his arm. Blood dripped down to the floor from three long gashes the claws had left on his arm. Tears formed in his eyes. He would die here. Doc wouldn’t make it in time. That monster would kill him.

In his panic Grian darted off to the side, stumbling a little. He needed to get away. He didn’t want to die here. And why wasn’t Ren here to help him out? Why was a monster running around in his basement?

Something heavy hit his back and Grian fell, rolling over the stone and coming to a painful halt on his back. If he survived this his whole body would be littered in bruises and scratches.

He hurried to get up, but the giant paws of the beast were suddenly standing on his shoulders. It was lowering its mouth, sharp teeth ready, mouth wide open. Grian raised his arms to push it away, trying to frantically grab anywhere to get it away. It didn’t work. The wolf growled and suddenly Grian’s arm was in its mouth. It was about to bite down and probably take his whole hand off. Then their eyes locked. Grian could see his face reflected in the red eyes. His terrified face full of tears and for a second the red started to flicker, turning into a soft blue. Blue like the sky. Blue like the eyes of…

“Ren…?”

The beast seemed to hesitate and Grian pulled his hand back to safety, away from the sharp teeth.

“Ren is that you?” He felt the pressure fading a little from his shoulders and dared to hope again. He didn’t understand whatever was happening right now, but somehow in some way Ren had turned into this… this wolf monster. And he was coming to his senses. Maybe he was recognizing Grian.

“It’s alright Ren. Everything is okay. Okay? I’m sorry I came over. Don’t do this”, Grian whispered. His words seemed to have an effect on the creature. He just needed to keep talking. Keep it distracted.

“I… I love you, Ren…” One of the giant paws slid off of Grian’s shoulder and he decided to take the opportunity. He hurriedly rolled to the side and got up. That turned out to be a bad idea. The blue eyes instantly turned red again and the beast was growling in anger. Grian wanted to run, but he soon stumbled and then felt sharp claws piercing right through his shoulders. He fell to the ground again, breathing heavily. It was over. He wouldn’t get away this time. He was hurting everywhere. He could feel the warm breath of the wolf right next to his ear as its mouth moved to his neck.

He prepared for the worst, when he heard a loud splash of water.

“Stay down!” A voice shouted. Something flew right over his head and the creature howled in pain.

Grian turned his head to look back. A trident was embedded right in the wolves upper body, blood staining the fur red. It stumbled back a few steps, its eyes flickering between red and blue. The trident ripped itself out of his body again as if by magic and it fell to the ground. It took a few more shaking breaths, trying to get up again, growling dangerously. Again a trident flew, this time hitting its lower abdomen. It struggled to stay upright and took one more shaking step, before it fell down one final time and stopped moving.

“R-Ren…? REN!”

Grian tried to get up, but a warm hand on his back kept him from moving and he looked at Doc who was kneeling next to him, bloody trident in his mechanical arm.

“It’s okay, Grian…”

“Nothing is okay!” There were tears gathering in Grian’s eyes now. He just felt the tension of this whole ordeal all at once becoming too much. “You killed him! That was Ren and you killed him!”

“I know, but…”

“You knew?!” Grian almost shouted, wincing at the pain it caused in his shoulder. “Why? Doc, if you knew that was Ren, why did you do it?”

“You need to calm down, Grian, man…”, he said calmingly, put down the trident after one last look at the wolf and then carefully turned Grian around to get him into a sitting position. “Look.”

Grian followed his instructions and saw the wolf’s fur moving a little as low breaths were still leaving its mouth. “Is he… Will he...?”

“He will be okay. He is one tough guy in that form. And I know how to aim. I just did enough damage to stop him. He will be fully healed once the full moon is gone, don’t worry. He always transforms back without any injuries. No one is dead. And it looks like he didn’t get to bite you. He didn’t right?”

Grian shook his head and Doc let out a sigh of relief. “Good. He would never forgive himself if he turned you as well.”

“What… turned me into what…? Is he a… Werewolf? But they don’t exist. That is just a fairy tale.”

“Well before they multiplied like crazy, people thought phantoms were just a fairy tale and now they are everywhere…” Doc sighed and looked over to where Ren’s body was still lying. “It should be up to him to explain this to you. I told him so many times that you should know what he was. He was so scared you would leave him and look where that got him. He almost bit you. That fool.”

“He is a fool… But I love him even at his worst… He should know that.” Grian smiled sadly and tried to shrug, but the pain in his shoulder almost had him doubling over. Doc’s hand was the only thing that kept him up.

“Can you stand up? Should I call Xisuma to teleport us to a safer place?”

Grian shook his head. He didn’t want to get Xisuma involved. It was his own fault he was in this situation. “I’ll manage…”

Grian managed to slowly get up with Doc’s hand steadying him. Doc was constantly looking him up and down a worried expression on his face. “You don’t really look to good.”

“’m fine…”, Grian mumbled, swaying a little. His face was as white as a sheet of paper. How much blood had he lost? There weren’t too many wounds on his body, but those cuts seemed to be pretty deep. He took a shaking step towards the exit, but stumbled and hadn’t it been for Doc holding him up, he would have fallen to the ground again.

“Stupid stubborn fools, both of you”, he mumbled, his communicator in hand. Grian could distantly hear the sound of typing and beeping, as if he was under water. He couldn’t think clearly. Everything around him started to sway. And then everything around him disappeared and they suddenly stood in a brightly lit room. He was rushed over to a bed. Xisuma was standing there looking at him worriedly. Oh… So they had transported him to Xisuma’s place.

He wanted to say something, but his vision started to fade and he suddenly felt so tired. He couldn’t keep his eyes open and slowly drifted out of consciousness. Maybe he would wake up and realise all this had been just a nightmare.

In his dreams he was haunted by glowing red eyes. The wolf was always right next to him no matter where he went. He was suddenly back in the cave below Ren’s base, the wolf above him. But this time there was no trident flying through the air. No Doc to rescue him. He felt the sharp teeth bite into his neck and screamed.

He screamed and screamed, hands were on him at once and he heard voices talking to him. Slowly but surely he gained a sense of his surroundings. He was in Xisuma’s bed. There was no wolf. It was bright and the sun was shining through the windows and someone was holding his hand.

A little out of breath he looked at Xisuma who was gently holding his hand, his helmet abandoned in a corner of the room.

“’suma…?”

“Yeah. You alright, Grian? You had a nightmare.”

“So it wasn’t real?”, he asked, still a little dazed, but the pity in Xisuma’s eyes made him realise how stupid that question was. Of course it had been real. Why else would he be in Xisuma’s bed of all places? And he still hurt all over. He looked down at his arm. It was tightly wrapped in a bandage. The white fabric was stained dark red in some places.

And suddenly he realised it was morning and Doc’s words came back to him. “Ren! Where is he? Is he alright? I need to...”, he hurriedly tried to get up, but Xisuma gently pushed him back into the mattress.

“Don’t strain yourself”, he mumbled then turned around and stepped away from the bed. “Ren, get over here. You heard him.”

Grian heard some rustling in the corner of the room and finally he saw Ren slowly stepping up to his bed. Why hadn’t he been next to him this whole time?

“Ren…” Ren looked bad. He wouldn’t raise his head to look at Grian. His eyes were red and puffy and there were still tear tracks on his face. His whole posture just screamed Insecurity. “Ren, babe… Look at me, please.”

Finally Ren raised his head and their eyes met. He could see tears shining in Ren’s eyes. “Grian… I am so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I promise. I just… I can’t control the wolf. I tried to stop it. I really did. I was so scared. I’d understand if you don’t want to be with me any more.”

Grian shock his head and slowly raised his non bandaged arm to rest a hand on Ren’s cheek. “It’s alright. Nothing bad happened. I’m okay. And I still love you.”

Xisuma sighed next to them and put down a few clean bandages onto the bed. “I’ll give you guys a little privacy. Ren, He needs a change of bandages. I trust you to take care of that. Talk it out you two. I’ll be back later.”

Grian noticed that Ren looked a little panicked at Xisuma’s retreating back and he opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something. Maybe he wanted to stop Xisuma. As the door fell closed, Ren even flinched a little, head hanging low again.

“You don’t want to be alone with me?”, Grian asked sadly, noticing all the signs.

Ren looked finally looked back at him, eyes wide with shock, shaking his head. “I thought you wouldn’t want to be. I thought you might get scared after I attacked you.”

Grian huffed in mild annoyance. “If I didn’t want to be alone with you I would have told Xisuma. We have been alone thousand of times, haven’t we.”

“Yeah but I attacked you…”

“Right. You attacked me. Once. When you weren’t even yourself. We have been together almost every night since the last season. Percentage wise I think I have a good chance to be safe alone with you.” Grian slowly got into a sitting position, wincing a little at the pain, but unlike Xisuma, Ren made no move to stop him. He grabbed Ren and pulled him into a hug. It hurt, sure, it hurt like hell. But seeing Ren like that, seeing him blame himself for everything that happened, that hurt even more.

“It’s okay. We are okay. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known I’d be there.” He felt Ren’s hand hesitantly wrapping around him and Grian almost melted into the embrace. “I love you. And I’ll always love you, even if you transform into some monster wolf, I’ll still love you.”

Ren was shaking now and Grian felt something wet on his shoulders. He carefully petted Ren’s back with his unbandaged hand, trying to calm him down. “It’s okay… Everything is fine…”, he continued to whisper words of comfort until he felt Ren calming down. They still stayed there for a while, neither of them ready to let go.

Until Grian moved a little and pain shot through his arm. A pained whine escaped him and Ren let go of him as if he’d burned himself. “I’m sorry. Oh god, Gri, I’m so sorry. Look at me. I’m a mess and you are the one that got hurt. I should be the one to care for you not the other way around.”

“Don’t worry, it’s…”

“No. It’s not okay. Stop saying that. I know you want to reassure me, but I have a right to worry about you. You are hurt.” Ren picked up the clean bandage. “I need to make it up to you, even if you don’t see that. You might be okay, but I… I’m not okay yet.”

Grian didn’t dare to say anything. He wanted to make Ren forget about what happened, but he understood where Ren was coming from. It was probably easier to forgive someone else than to forgive yourself. So he just nodded and held out his wounded arm.

Gently Ren peeled of the bloody bandage. Grian averted his eyes, not ready to see the damage the attack had caused.

“I owe you an explanation, I think”, Ren began and Grian just shrugged. “No, Gri, I really do. I should have told you a long time ago. Doc was always pestering me about it. I guess he was right. If you had known you would have paid more attention to the moon.”

“Tell me then… Whatever you are comfortable with.”

Ren smiled sadly, putting the bloody bandages to the side and taking a washing cloth from the bedside table. He dabbed it gently against the wound. It stung like hell, but Grian tried not to show any discomfort as Ren began explaining.

“I was still young when it happened. It was long before I came to Hermitcraft. I got lost in a forest looking for… I don’t even know what I was looking for any more. It was stupid to go out alone that late. It was a full moon. That huge wolf suddenly appeared in front of me. I tried to run away, but it was just too fast. It bit me. It probably would have killed me. But I was lucky. Someone had noticed my screams and chased the monster off. I thought I was lucky. Until the next full moon came and I transformed. It hurts… It hurts every time. All the bones in your body shifting, your skin stretching out. But the worst thing is not how it feels but the way you lose all control. I was never able to control myself.”

“But you did...”, Grian whispered, thinking back to last night, when his arm had been in the wolf’s mouth, about to be bitten. “Your eyes. They turned blue and you didn’t… you stopped.”

Ren smiled sadly and nodded. “That was the first time I managed to do this. And even though… even when I love you this much I wasn’t able to stay in control. I tried so hard...”

Ren took a shaky breath, quietly put the wash cloth away and started carefully bandaging the arm again. “I’m glad Doc was there. Even if he almost killed me... I once told him if worst comes to worst he has my permission to kill me. I’d rather die then see anything happen to you.”

“Well and I’d rather be bitten than see you die. So I’ll have a talk with Doc about that agreement”, Grian replied with an annoyed huff and while Ren looked like he wanted to argue he held back. He probably knew that Grian wouldn’t change his mind on that matter.

Ren kept bandaging up his arm, then paused and looked straight into Grian’s eyes, gaze full of worry. “Just… Never visit me during the full moon ever again. Promise me that you’ll be careful. If I were to bite you, I’d never forgive myself.”

Grian averted his eyes. Ren wasn’t the only one who felt guilty about this whole ordeal. If he had just paid attention to the moon… If he hadn’t stayed out so late… If he had waited patiently for an answer instead of just barging in… If he had…

“Grian. Stop it.”

“’m not doing anything…”, Grian mumbled quietly, turning his eyes back to Ren.

“You are blaming yourself, when I am the only one to blame. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Well… If I’m not allowed to blame myself, then neither are you!”

Ren shook his head, about to answer again, but Grian wouldn’t let him. “No. You listen to me, Mr. Ren. You had no control. You told me enough times that you can’t see me during a full moon. So what? Yeah, you maybe should have told me you are a werewolf after two years of dating, but whatever.” Grian looked back to Ren again, nothing but love in his eyes. “It will take me a while to get over this, sure. I will feel bad about it and so will you, but we can pull through it. Don’t you ever doubt that.”

Ren lowered his eyes and finished bandaging Grian’s arm. But for the first time since Grian had woken up there was a small smile on his lips. And Grian knew at that moment that they would be alright.

[blitheringmcgonagall]

We Can Be Heroes

This chapter is dedicated to all the incredibly generous people who have left comments on this fic so far. You are incredibly kind, so motivating, and it makes me so pleased and thrilled to read them!! I can't thank you enough. Some of them are on tumblr ( and/or ao3 and ff.net) - @araniaexumae @therealrjlupin @maraudersftw @of-stars-and-moon @littlejeanniebean @mollymarymarie @thefeartakeshold @comaraudery @tasha9317 @abby10fanfic @breathing-and-stuff @jamesandthedog @jencala @stonecoldhedwig @wolfdogstar @solstilla @feed-the-birdss @raissassampaio @nobothersgiventoday @beaubcxton and sorry if I missed anyone (or people I only know from ao3/ff)

Also, shout out to @proffessrmoonylupin for the beautiful music they wrote for this, and to @comaraudery (MxPadfoot on ao3) for their gorgeous fanart of Jily after the Amortentia Episode, as well as @0kat0 for the proposal scene fanart - both absolutely stunning. 

You are all outrageously kind and this chapter is a poor thank you.

Also, apologies for the angst, but this part of the story is always going to be pretty angsty (end of 1980/start 1981)

(TW: parental death; anxiety/depersonalization description)  

                                   Chapter 47: Stayin' Alive

And now it's alright, it's okay And you may look the other way We can try to understand

The New York Times’ effect on man

Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin' And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive

Bee Gees Stayin’ Alive (1977)

“I think our letter to the Daily Prophet went down a treat with a certain subsection of our fellow purebloods,” Monty commented drily, peering over the open newspaper at his wife.

“It did, didn’t it?” Mia smiled back, her eyebrows raising spiritedly as she sipped her tea. “Caused a bit of a stir...”

“Almost a commotion,” Monty added, cleaning his glasses on his shirt sleeve. “I think you were right about the Usual Suspects not taking it particularly well? A tad miffed, perhaps?”

He shot Mia a look that was both fond and proud.

“Yes, I think that rather bothered might describe it best, or slightly livid, even?” Mia said, with a wicked smirk. “A definite increase in anti- Voldemort articles and charity donations since then, apparently.”

“Ha! Did the trick,” said Monty, placing the newspaper down and eying his slice of pumpkin pie with interest.

“Yes, it did,” said Mia, with a resolute nod, pouring them both another cup of tea.

Monty’s eyes twinkled.

“Do you know how much I love you, Mrs. Potter?” he said, humming with delight as he put another generous piece of pie in his mouth.

“Oh, rather a lot, I think, Mr. Potter,” Mia said, grinning back and leaning over to squeeze his hand.

“Perfection!” Monty said, popping the last piece of pie in his mouth and smiling back at her as he folding the newspaper.

“Are you referring to me or my baking skills?” Mia said.

“Both!” Monty said, with a chivalrous bow. “It’s a marvellous Autumn day, what do you say to a little dance in the garden?”

“Hmm,” Mia said, pretending to ponder the question. “I suppose I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Wonderful!” said Monty, standing up and putting out his hand. “May I have the pleasure of your company?”

“You may, Mr. Potter,” Mia said, with a soft laugh. “Although I’ve noticed recently I’m not as fluid on my Promenade Step as I used to be!”

“Balderdash!” said Monty lightly, leading her outside the back door and into the sunlit garden. “You’re as lively and beautiful as the day I met you!”

Mia burst out laughing.

“Oh yes, I do recall I was a bit of a wizened old hag back in the day,” she said, looking up at Monty with shining eyes. “With a wayward mop of grey hair and a touch of sciatica to boot.”

Monty snorted aloud, flicking his wrist as he started the old magical record-player.

“Pah! Grey or blonde, trifling details, but it was very wild, that I do recall. Your hair was the inspiration behind my first Sleekeazy success, Demolish the Dishevel,” he said, winking at her cheekily.

“Rude!” Mia laughed, smacking him on the arm. “Your hair is pretty unruly too, worse, I’d say!”

“D the D worked spectacularly well!” Monty hummed innocently, as they danced.

“Well not that well, darling, have you seen your son’s hair?” Mia said airily. “Although I suppose at least I can say I was your muse on that occasion!”

“You’ve always been my muse,” Monty said, with a slow smile.

“Oh, flattery!” Mia smiled back. “So without me, Sleekeazy’s wouldn’t have become the roaring success it turned out to be?”

“Without you, I’d be nothing, Mia Potter, and you know it,” Monty said, and his voice was still teasing but softer.

“That’s my line, Monty Potter, and you know it,” Mia said, stepping up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss.

"The love we have in our youth is superficial compared to the love that an old man has for his old wife*," Monty said.

“Old wife!” Mia rolled her eyes despite the wide grin she spotted. “Despite your silliness, I have never once regretted marrying you, Fleamont Linfred Potter.”

“Did you ever think things would work out so well?” Monty asked her.

“Never in my wildest dreams,” Mia said, as the song came to an end.  “I have been utterly blessed. There isn’t a single thing I’d change about our time together.”

“Nor I, darling,” Monty said, as they slowed to a halt.

A vibrant hum filled the air followed by silence.

continue reading... Chapter 47

[cap-samwilson]

my things.

i don’t write that much for marvel anymore, but i did want to create a collection of what i’ve published on this blog that relate to my writing as well as links to all of my most popular fics. 

below the cut is a list of tags i use on the blog and a link to my works on AO3, as well as a link to all of my fics on AO3 and where to find my shorter works.  

tags i use for organizational purposes.

my fic: each fic that i have written will have this tag. this means that it is an original work that i created. other tags on my works, depending on the type, including “five sentence fic”, and each work will have tagged the characters involved, any tw’s, and any ships that are relevant

fanfic: every fanfic that i reblog that is not my own work will have this tag on it. i will try to reblog so that the original creator is visible. if i’m reblogging it, i’m recommending it.

fanart: every fanart that i reblog will have this tag. i will not reblog fanart that does not have the artist, and if i do on accident, please let me know so that i can rectify that!

gifset: this tag is for gifs that i reblog, and if they are credited then i will be sure to reblog it so that it is visible. also, if it is an edit that is in gif form, i will use this tag.

photoset: set of photos. again, i want credit to go where it is due, so if it is not obvious let me know.

others: other tags are more sporadic and might not be used as often. i don’t usually tag the movies that images are from, but i will attempt to tag when they are comic panels with comics, the actor in the gif if it is relevant, as well as the character or ship that is being used or described (ex. rhodeytony, stevetony, sambucky). 

my fics.

my AO3 is here, but i will link specific full-length fics i have written down below. again, my shorter works will be tagged my fic and five sentence fic if you want to find them on tumblr. 

1. love in five sentences - tony/everyone, essentially. the foundation upon which this blog was based. five sentence fics, between tony and another person. when you search five sentence fic on my blog, this is what you will find. the link is a collection of all of them in one place, if you don’t feel like scrolling. 

2. slippers - clint/tony. fluff, faling in love.

“what are those… atrocities on your feet?” tony asks, peering up over his tablet and holograms, and clint suddenly is just giddy, giggling, gone.

“they’re from my walmart back home,” he says, and it’s almost to the slippers, to the purple unicorns that squish with every step. his voice is syrupy sweet, and tony has to lean down just to get a better view of the ratty purple hair, the threadbare faces that are smiling serenely with closed eyes (with added eyelashes sewn in), and of course the shiny horns gone a little crooked. “aren’t they fucking hideous?”

3. hand to heart - bucky/tony. angst, hurt/comfort. tw: hospital scenes, mention of torture.

bucky is there when the reactor is taken out of tony’s chest.

one moment, it’s there, shining and bright and blue. the next, it’s gone.

not gone gone, it’s still there, still bright, but the shine comes from the metal of its encasing and not the soft glow of life.

4. he’s not a spark, he’s the whole damn flame - steve/tony. college au. fluff, pre-relationship. 

"i thought you and tony were still gazing into each other's eyes."

“what?” steve asks the voice, feeling the pencil slide across the paper with purpose, inspiration stepping before every stroke. her voice is the first he’s heard in hours, the arts department buildings pretty empty this time of day, except for the people leaving classes in the studios.

“well, the last time i saw you, you were drooling pretty heavily over tony stark in those skinny jeans, and… well, you know the rest,” nat teases, and unfortunately, steve’s pen has to come to a halt before the heat in his cheeks distracts from his homework. “figured you were stuck there.”

5. guardian angel - sam & steve. could be seen as sam/steve. sam as an angel.

sam wilson is made before the beginning of time itself, and knows that worlds that spin on an axis tend to be born, live, and then die. there’s a beginning for them, and sometimes he envies that - being able to start from scratch is a blessing that none of his kind get. they were made. by something, by nothing they were breathed into the air, perhaps. gone one moment and there the next. which moment? it’s… uncertain. fully formed, though, they are, and then the rest of the cosmos come and go in a flash around them, whirling in spirals of color and stars until something new comes from them. something like life.

space, power, reality, time, they unfold like a map before all of them, him and his siblings. the first cries of life echo through the emptiness and something answers back. souls are molded.

6. sun comes out - carol/rhodey. first meeting. 

“y’know, there’s a reason they call it a cockpit.”

that caught rhodey’s attention, like a putrid smell, and he turned in his chair to follow the stench. when he found the source, he couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose, gazing at the sight of some trainee leaning over a table, two women seated, pleasantly tipsy, and unamused.

7. fly high, baby girl - tony & morgan.

“you wanna fly, huh?” he said, giving her a big smile, hand lifting to cup the side of her face.

“like you, daddy,” she said with a grin, and her hands clapped together, pressing up on her toes. “higher and higher and higher!”

8. pieces of love - a collection of fic from my two hundred follower celebration, where i wrote little stories about some of my favorite relationships. 

flying dinosaurs - rhodey/tony. 

cake is on the agenda - peter & aunt may. 

moving in and moving forward - sam/bucky.

summertime - natasha/tony.

a little bit lucky - carol/rhodey.

the rain pours - natasha & tony, steve/tony.

hopeless cases - bucky/tony. 

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

do you know of any fics where Stiles has a secret of some sort?

That’s why his hair is so big. It’s full of secrets. - Anastasia

So Take a Long Shot by relenafanel

(1/1 I 2,650 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles is ten when his father teaches him how to shoot. He sucks with a handgun, more likely to shoot off his own foot than the target.

The same cannot be said for his skill with a long-range rifle (but he's no one's weapon).

Eventually, Stiles knows, the secret will come out, because there are just some people he will save at all costs.

(That day comes when they're hunting a redcap through the forest and can't reach Derek in time)

A Sheep In Wolf's Clothing by dumpacc

(1/1 I 11,282 I Mature I Sterek)

"What the fuck, Stiles, what the fuck?!"

"No, no, you don't understand, Scotty, this is the best idea ever!"

"Because you think registering as a fucking alpha to college when you're actually an omega is the best idea ever? It's not even a good idea!"

Being an omega, Stiles has few chances to be accepted in the college of his dreams. Registering as an alpha seems like a good idea... until his new roommate, hot-as-the-sun alpha Derek Hale, comes in the equation.

Strike Me A Match by clotpolesonly 

(1/1 I 11,584 I General I Sterek)

Derek stared at the reporter on the campus lounge’s television screen, gleefully reporting on Ignition’s latest fight. Behind her floated a photograph of him mid-battle, zoomed in on where his bodysuit had been slashed open across his left shoulder blade. It was a little blurry, a little pixelated, but more than clear enough to get a good look at the black mark on the bare skin there.

“Oh shit,” came Erica’s delighted voice as she dropped down onto the couch beside Derek. “Let the circus begin!”

Derek’s his heart dropped; circus was right. He resisted the impulse to reach for the spot on his own shoulder blade that itched and burned. It wouldn’t do him any good. He could make all the calls, send in all the verifiably undoctored photos of identical marks, make all the noise and fuss he wanted. With the buzz and the confusion, it wouldn’t matter. No one would believe him.

True match-ups never made it through a circus like this.

--

In which Derek discovers his soulmate is a superhero too far out of his reach to ever actually be with. But it doesn't feel right to flirt back at Stiles now either, no matter how much Derek wants to. Amazing or not, he's not Derek's soulmate.

Protector of Her Pack by BetaBlue

(10/? I 14,324 I Explicit I Sterek I girl!Stiles)

There are a few things Stiles knows is true in her life:1.) She’s much stronger then everyone gives her credit for2.) She would do anything for the Hale's…even die for them3.) And last but not lest Scott McCall is the worst friend in the world

The Aftermath of Gerard's attack on the Pack the Hale Pack along with The Sheriff help Stiles understand her family's bond to the Hale's and Beacon Hill's.

The Gentleman And The Fox by bleep0bleep, Inkforwords

(1/1 I 15,707 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek doesn't expect much from his arranged marriage. When his inattentive husband, Lord Stiles Stilinski, tells him he's free to look for a lover, he doesn't know where to start, until a dashing bandit named the Red Fox catches his eye.~The Fox winks again. “Have a good night, Derek,” he purrs in a sultry tone, and then climbs back on the horse and disappears into the night.Derek walks up the path towards the manor in a daze, and it isn’t until he’s inside when he realizes he never told the Fox his name or where he lived. 

you’ve got me on pins and needles by jadore_hale

(1/1 I 17,611 I Teen I Sterek)

“At any rate, I’m not here to steal from you. One of the biggest potentially most important moments in my life is coming up and I find myself in need of a custom tux.”

“A tuxedo?” Derek halted, then tried not to laugh as he gave the kid a good look up and down. “Biggest potentially most important moment of your life?”

Derek picked up the broom and started sweeping, shaking his head. “If you need something for your little costume party, kid, rent something from party city.”

✄✄✄✄✄

Stiles Stilinski needs THE perfect suit and Derek Hale is just the tailor to make it for him. Only Derek doesn’t exactly know that Stiles is kind of a famous movie star…

Midnight Wolf vs Abominable Snowman! by orphan_account

(2/2 I 20,409 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek almost makes the mistake of saying, It’s not fanart, but he manages to catch himself, biting his tongue. This stranger, who’s already identified himself as at least a casual fan of Midnight Wolf, doesn’t need to know that he actually is the artist and author, not just another fan.

The Vasov Heir by neil4god

(12/12 I 20,665 I Not Rated I Sterek I Rape)

It was summer vacation. He was supposed to go to bed late and sleep even later, he should not be in a car at the ass crack of dawn (12:30) on his way to who know's where. That was not part of the plan, but then he hadn't planned on introducing the pack to his sort of fiance either or introducing them to his family, but his darkest secrets are being dragged into the light and Stiles may not survive it.

The PlayLiszt by dylanssourwolf

(1/1 I 21,570 I Explicit I Sterek)

Dr. Derek Hale is one of the most qualified musicologists in the country. He’s damn proud to be one of the most sought-after specialists in the world; he’s done his fair share of travelling to colleges all over the country to to give insights on the musical structures of some of the most famous pieces of classical literature.While he can't really play any of those pieces, he does have a particular choice of pianist when it comes to listening. Mieczysław. Derek likes to think he’s in love with the guy, even though he isn’t sure if Mieczysław is a first name or a last name or even a name at all, and he's never once gotten a glimpse of the pianist’s face. It’s about the music, the money-makers, and the guy’s hands are plastered on everything.The only other pianist who may be well on his way to being as talented as Mieczysław is a student by the name of Stiles Stilinski. He's just come back to school after a semester off and is now taking an independent study with Derek, who's trying desperately not to fall for his student. There's one peculiar thing; Stiles always has his hands mostly covered by fingerless gloves, yet still, Derek swears he's seen them somewhere.

Catch Me If You Can by illusemywords

(1/1 I 32,470 I Teen I Sterek)

Before Stiles Stilinski is 20 years old, he successfully cons millions of dollars' worth of checks posing as a Pan Am pilot, doctor, and lawyer. This is the story of him, and Derek Hale, the FBI agent chasing him.

Pen Name by rootbeer

(7/7 I 51,007 I Teen I Sterek)

Anxiety (/aNGˈzī-itē/):A feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.~~"The set was busy; people bustled about with their various jobs. No one seemed to notice, or maybe they just didn’t care, as the gangly boy looked about nervously. He was all skin and bones, a track of moles across his light skin. He carried a bag across his shoulders, a coffee cup in his left hand and a curious look on his face. There was nothing remarkable looking about him at all, and perhaps, that was the most remarkable thing."

[lettersofsky]

Mr. Steal-Your-Clown Fic

 I’ve never really written something inspired from someone else’s fanart so I hope I’m doing this right

Ok so there’s this great piece of Horuss x Gamzee fanart by @holderofthebean and I love it to bits it literally adds so many years to my life. So I wanted to write something dumb and fun inspired by it! Because is my Rare Pair and I love them.

Please enjoy <3

~

Let it neigh-ver be said that Horuss had been planning to accost the Alternian Makara from the start. Because that statement, if spoken aloud, would hoof been completely and utterly wrong on a number of levels.

Neigh it had neigh been his plan to steal Gamzee when he agreed to join his fraying companionships at a party with their Alternian counterparts and the humans in this new world they had been given the chance to exist upon. Truth be told he had barely been considering the younger, deadlier Makara (even though this one had neigh given into the muttered urgings of a puppet lost of its strings) or the fact that they were going to potentially be there. Well, other than the moment of consideration he always had to determine whether there would be a potential to run into them that was.

Hardly anything worth pointing out in his most informed of opinions.

But that was hardly the point. The point was that he was not planning to do anything as silly and foal-ish as steal the clown from the middle of the gathering.

At most he had been planning to make a purposefoal stop in with the Highblood to greet them, inquiry as to their well-being since the last instance he was stable to speak with them, ask if they were enjoying the evening before leaving them to their own devices for the night. Simple, easy, neigh-thing that would give him away or impose himself too much on the clown if his presence truly was unwanted.

It had neigh been dismissed as of yet but Horuss was prepared, all the same, his previous relations, both those platonic and less-so in nature had informed him that his presence was exhausting to most. He was sure it was only a matter of time before Gamzee decided they were through with entertaining his awfoal attempts at courtship, as easing as he was trying to make them, and ordered Horuss neigh to bother them again.

It had neigh happened yet, but it was sure to be coming.

And Horuss would hoof followed through with his own self-imposed plans and restrictions, only taking up so much of Gamzee’s time before leaving them be, but best-laid plans did neigh always like to follow the path they were supposed to.

It had started normally, Horuss had approached Gamzee, ready to greet them and show that he had wanted to seek them out upon arriving at the gathering, and then the situation got away from him as so many things did with the clown in question.

Gamzee had reached out to touch him, something new and yet unprecedented, looking to Horuss with wide, curious eyes as their hand hovered just above Horuss’ arm, close enough that he could feel the chill of them, waiting for a reaction of some kind before actually touching him. It was… near overwhelming to hoof Gamzee’s claws resting securely over the pulse point in his arm, thumb absent-mindedly rubbing small little motions as if the clown were as nervous as Horuss was by their bold movement.

And then he realized that Gamzee was talking to him, saying they had hoped he would come tonight and asking him about what he had been spending his time on recently. 

That did neigh necessarily mean he knew what he was supposed to do now though. He had neigh prepared nor planned for such a turn of events, he found himself off-kilter in the most disconcerting of hays, grounded in place by only the hand on his arm and the genuinely pleased smile on Gamzee’s face.

Up until it grew nervous and shaky and the claw-tipped thumb that had been making small easing motions halted and started to pull away from him that was. Proper decorum would hoof him allowing it, waving off the bold action to neigh-ver be spoken of again, but Horuss was far mare focused on replacing the tension that had entered Gamzee’s frame with the easy grin that had been on their face not a marement before.

Which had lead to the clown theft.

Again! Neigh something he had been planning on doing, it had just been a very spur of the marement decision.

Gamzee had been mare than a little surprised when Horuss had picked them up, honking a sharp, startled sound that Horuss found himself churring in response to before he could stop himself. But they hadn’t struggled, they had in fact thrown their arms and legs around him to cling to his frame while he supported them and walked off to a quieter, private corner away from the rest of the gathering. 

A corner where he could relish marementarily in the fact that he was neigh only holding Gamzee but that the clown trusted him enough to neigh only support their weight but that he also would neigh take them anywhere dangerous to themselves.

Which he would neigh-ver! Of horse neigh!

He just… needed a marement to properly compose himself so that he could talk to Gamzee and get that awfoal shaking nervousness from their actions.

It had just been easier to put that into actions than words at the time.

He was going to be hearing about that for some time to come to be sure.

Horuss decided it was mare than worth it to hear the quiet little honk Gamzee made as he hoisted them further up in his grip to be able to hold them easier, the clown now basically able to sit in his arms, knees to either side of Horuss’ ribcage to lean over his head, giggling into the strands of his mane and letting their clawed hands fiddle with the volume of Horuss’ ponytail. 

Horuss’ friends could hay what they wished, it would neigh change how genuinely content he was with that one singular marement in time, created by a spur of the marement decision he would hoof neigh-ver thought himself capstable of.

The fact that a playfoal, curious tug almost had Horuss’ knees buckling and sending them both to the ground was aneigh-ther great source of amusement to the clown and something that would be kept strictly between them both.

[dope-squish]

Programmed And Damned [ RK800 Connor X Reader ] [ Detroit: Become Human ] - Chapter Four - Do You Believe In Soulmates

[ Goal - 60 Hearts/Reblogs ] [ Sorry for not updating. personal shit happened but now i'm back and i'm lowering the hearts or reblogs because why not ] [ Comments are extremely appreciated so please do comment. it makes authors feel great, i promise. it boosts our confidence ] [ Please press the heart button, the reblog button and share this fanfic to anyone and anywhere, this way, we'll more likely reach our goal ] [ Special mention to @timelizzy21 , @angsty-otters-blog , @connorshero , @divadonadance1 , @this-was-her , thank you so much for commenting *^* your comments made my day and i will continue making this story interesting so please keep reading on ][wanna make a fanart or soundtrack for the story? feel free to do so but if you ever do, please send them to me so i can post them in the future chapters so they can be appreciated]

It was basically considered a treachery when an android - a being created by humans' hands to obey orders they spout - feels any sort of emotion or anything at all but as you held a useless example of a father by his throat, the distressed crowd of humans is warm crimson blood stuttering to a halt as your fingers threaten to puncture the his rough skin - a total contrast to Autumn's which momentarily made you question about their relation - you can't help but to relish on the feeling of sickening pleasure it brought and it felt too fucking good to stop.

Ruth thrash about and put in great effort to oppose to your restraining and smothering clutch all around his bruising neck, brazenly sewing out string after strings of colorful and vibrant profanities that can and shall put a veteran sailor to shame, his livid glower zeroing solely on your monotonous facial expression. If his sight could burn as warm as the sun, then there was no ounce or a smudge of doubt that your optics would have melted. "You little plastic shit," A small but tempting part of your program felt the need to laugh at this man's chosen words - and broken speech - but realizig the gravity of the situation, you bit your tongue to refrain yourself from bursting out of laughter. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I am your owner. I control you ; you're supposed to obey me! Unhand me this instant! This is an order!"

An incredelous jeer dribbled from your sneer painted lips. An inhumane (so basically in-android? in-deviant) snarl was at risk to tear from your throat as your tongue spout out unregistered sentences from your system. "I don't take orders from anyone, and especially not from you." You spat out in disdain. "I am not a little plastic shit."

[ I AM DEVIANT ]

"I am a Deviant."

[ I AM HUMAN ]

"I am a human."

[ I AM ALIVE ]

"And," You wrenched him closer to your face until you were for certain he is aware of the warmth of your breath fanning his face. "I am alive."

Your vice grip around him was unyeilding and constricted even more so than you have ever imagined CyberLife would allow you (but then again, you are an android which serves a purpose for battling so it didn't really come much to a revelation). From this significant but effective change of strangulation, Ruth's calloused and grease tainted fingers let Autumn's silky auburn hair slide delicately through his ditt encrusted fingertips, unwillingly granting her freedom from his grasp and allowing her to flee from his ghastly intentions to lay a hand in her. Mentioned woman crawled away on all fours from her father and clumsily staggered back up on her feet, body lurching back and fro and hands blindlessly darting around her surroundings until they landed on some sort of leverage. Your enhanced pupils surveyed and calculated the enviroment enclosing Autumn's frame and the second you were guaranteed that she was safe from any form of hazardous danger, you - with a grunt in effort - inconsiderately flung Ruth as far as your arm power could conjure away from Autumn's location.

Ruth landed unpleasantly on more than a few heaps of bare containers and from the impact his stature had bestowed, their balance sense of stability became a chaotic jumble and plunged all over him, one particular box having been able to get caught on his head. A couple of men who stood standby, additionally the other Clashers - among them was Daryl's equally aggresive owner, William - scurried to Ruth's position to come to his aid. While they were being occupied with Ruth's welfare, your hand retracted from the puncture your fist constructed and outstretched it towards Daryl who immediately recoiled away from you, shrinking to what could be meraphorically described as a small mouse; traumatized to an absolute amount and thinking you were to move to harm him.

Your enhanced eyesight drifted to the microscopic wounds your android and mechanical induced body created around frail throat that were leaking with small amount of thirium. Undetectable by human eyes but noticable by androids's optics. An odd, indescribable feeling burst within the wires spreading across your body, overfilling you with the need to apologize and gain a confirming acceptance from the person included in your problem. Your system surfed throughout the web in search for an acceptable apology for someone you've almost and near deliberately harmed someone to bring them to their demise.

[ MALEWARE DETECTED :

GUILT ]

"Come on now, we don't have time to waste," You murmured under your breath and took tight hold of Daryl's hand in your own and hauled him back to his feet in one tug, steadying him as he tumbled wobbily on his two left feet. Your eyes surveyed the area and with a quick scan the surroundings, you manage to locate the oldest and rusting metal door in the arena which was your only hinderance to your desired freedom. Puckering your lips to point its idle existence, you clamored, "Over there!"

Avoiding all the pieces of what's left of the androids you callously obliterated in your state of android service for the humans - [ System Error ^ ] - you towed Daryl alongside you as your synthetic frames stood presented before the rusting door obstructing your journey to your freedom, you decreed, "Stay back."

Daryl had half the mind to part his dry lips to question your motive but his inquiry remained unspoken as he was rudely interrupted once your clenched hand made contact with the metal door, sending said object flying back to meet with the cemented wall right behind it with a booming and resounding noise within the interior of the factory that garnered the watchfulness of every being with a beating heart. Without sparing much less of an ounce of care for the destruction you've produced, you drew Daryl away from the arena and settled him behind you as your feet descended the small flight of stairs with hasty footfalls, thirium shaped footprints left staining the staircase. Daryl lurched at everg direction - threatening to fall off his footing - and had difficulty catching up with your pace yet - by some means - maintained impressive equilibrium, which you think was notable for someone having trouble inhaling. Maybe if he remembered he's technically still an android still, he would have no need to breathe.

Once your feet met the cold tiled floorings of the factory, so unlike the rough cement the arena held and as soon as your feet touched the very last staircase, they automatically brought you to where Autumn was positioned gripping her agobizingly throbbing scalp from the excruciating pain it endured from her only family. Your LED colored itself crimson red and your hand left Daryl's as it cupped Autumn's cheek gently, scanning if she sustained any fatal injuries. Your logical side was reprimanding you, telling you that you were overreacting seeing as Autumn had no evidence of red blood on any part of her nor does her clothes but you couldn't seem to find control for your motor skills.

"Autumn," Your murmured was broken from the concern injected into your tone, "Are you okay? How badly did he harm you? Can you move properly? Do you need my assisstance?"

Autumn softly took hold of the hand which held her cheek with an indescribable gentleness - which you didn't notice was quivering - and flashed you an uncertain smile as she pulled it away. She looked equally as perplexed at your uncommon display of affection. "I'm fine, [ Your Name ]," She reassured, her tone laced with scratchiness. "I'm fine," She repeated, more firmly this time around but the tragic lines of hurt on her face told you otherwise.

Your scanner made an attempt to inspect her wellbeing but for the first time, it failed to give any commonsensical information that would ease the concern blossoming in your thirium empowered artificial heart. "I apologize for my actions . . . I was, as humans say," You gulped. ". . . worried."

You didn't miss the dilation of Daryl's optics upon hearing your humiliating - as you deemed it to be - confession (the reason to your embarrassment must be coming from when you thought yourself as an unfeeling machine just a few minutes ago) as a small, jolly grin plastered on Autumn's features.

[ Autumn ^^ ]

[ Daryl ^ ]

Her beam brightened, if humanly. "Don't worry about me," She insisted.

Daryl interjected, yours and Autumn's heads snapping to his direction. "You must believe her. I scanned her. A few strands of hair was ripped off from her scalp and a mild numbing pain is present. Other than that, she's fine."

Your brows slanted as confusion positioned itself on your face. "But when I scanned her earlier - "

"She sustained no grave injuries, if that's what you're thinking." Daryl butts in. "What attained data your system received is undoubtedly an exaggeration. That's what commonly happens when an individual lets their emotions get the best of them."

The moment was cut off to a short when your proximity sensors caught a movement rapidly approaching your figure. In a swift motion, you grasped the arms of your two companions and pulled them down with you as you ducked. In unison to their bewildred yelps was the shattering of an empty bottle of beer that went overhead your frames and hit the floor with a sickening sprinkle. The surrounding crowd was chattering anxiously as they came audiences to a new scenario while some took the liberty to make use of this unfortune as an excuse to react negatively by spouting out colorful vocabularies and dangerous responses, hence the bottle.

Autumn was the first to stand, you and Daryl following suit to her actions. "That was a close one," She whimpered.

A smile threatened to appear on Darly's face - like some sort of silent agreement to her statement - but its possibility drastically went down as his sight trailed to the side. "You spoke way too soon." He spoke out in a tone you couldn't quite comprehend.

Autumn's brows furrowed in puzzlement, blinking. "W-What do you mean?"

Daryl's finger pointed and you followed its aimed direction only to locate Ruth Judge, along with the few other android Clashers all huddled together and glowering at the three of you with an intensity you cannot think was possible for any mortal to reach. From an expression you've stumbled across before in a shady website in the internet, if looks could kill, you'd be six feet below the ground by now.

Daryl faced them. "We need to go," He suggested. "As in, right now."

"No! We can't do that!" Autumn fought back, a scowl painting over her terrified expression. "We need to fight!"

A frown carved its way to Daryl's lips. "We're just wasting our time. And possibly compromising what little chance we have of surviving. We need to escape. And if you can't see, we're outnumbered."

Autumn, not one to back down on her decision, retaliates. "[ Your Name ] knows combat. That's enough. You've seen her take down those androids in the arena earlier. Humans are much more fragile and prone to injuries. We can help her fight back. We can't run away like cowards!"

He spat out, "There's nothing cowardly about wanting to survive, Autumn. It's too risky for us!"

"They're going to hurt us."

"Not if we run now." Daryl argues. "We can leave. We don't have to hurt anyone."

Uninevitably, the two faced your uncertain figure, both searching for your opinion in the matter at hand. To settld the feud, you scanned the premises and saw the probability of their suggestions.

[ Flee : 88 % ]

[ Fight : 92 % ]

You were torn between the two choices. Fleeing might be the wisest - and most pacifict - here for you had the knowledge these humans are no obstacle to you - a so called killing machine - but fighting was a display of dominance and in doing so, more humans will be less likely to chase you three after witnessing what brutality you had to initiate on them. After pondering and weighing the two options handed to you, you decided - [ Flee ]

"Your call," Autumn said so as she sent you a pointed look, as though telling you to make the correct decision. "Escape or fight back."

You took a moment to register your answer - making sure it was what you estimate as a better decision - before taking a hold of your companions' wrists and clamoring, "Let's move!" as you begin leading them through series of obstacles hindering your progress to flee from the group of men, sprinting as you rounded the large round arena in search for an escape passage.

[ Autumn / ]

[ Daryl ^^ ]

Regardless of the agitated screams tearing from the throats of countless frustrated Clashers, they were not the ones who managed to attain your undivided attention. Instead, from the corner of your eye, you took special note of the two familiar figures moving hurriedly with your pace - as though mimicking your response to run from danger - from the upper bleachers. Turning subtly to examine them more clearly, you spotted the same RK800 android sprinting - a look of programmed determination nestled on his perfectly symestrical features - with an old man with bulging stomach and untamed beard in tow who was clearly having a hard time catching up with the artificial human. Already knowing you can't extract any information from the android, your sight fleeted to the old man and scanned him for data instead.

[ Name - Hank Anderson ]

[ Occupation - Police Lieutenant ]

[ Handled Case - Deviants ]

"Fuck." The curse felt raw on your tongue as you spat it out in frustration and realization, head darting back to your main objective which was to exit the factory with Daryl and Autumn, unharmed and most importantly, alive.

"What's wrong?" Questioned Daryl as he matched your pace, brows burrowed together in concern for your outburst. "Is there something wrong?"

"A police lieutenant is chasing after us." You informed the two of them as you took a sharp turn inside a corridor, an unguarded metal door at the very end. "He has an android with him. A police android or something. They're here catching deviants."

The dilation of Autumn's frenzied amber pair of eyes was easily detected. "Deviants," She breathed out, "Like you and Daryl?"

You nod in response. "Like me and Daryl."

***

Once the trio entered a corridor and left his eyesight, a profanity spilled from Connor's lips and his pace significant quickened. "Hurry, lieutenant! They're getting away!"

"Well," An exhausted Hank huffed out as his cramping legs, damaged lungs and old age slowed him down to what Connor considered as a burden. "Try running after deviants and a very advanced prototype in my age."

Though hidden from Hank's sight, the RK800's LED bore a vibrant yellow color. "Androids don't age." Pointed out Connor in a matter-of-fact tone, to which Hank gritted his teeth to out of annoyance.

"Don't take it too seriously. I'm just stating my point." Hank retributed and soon enough, he slowed down to a stop. "Us humans aren't as indestructible and full of gasoline or thirium whatever as you are."

Connor's footsteps decelerated once registering the complaint that his human a parter spouted. "Do you want me to wait for you?"

Hank shook his head, back bent over and had one of his hand over his knee and the other dismissively waving his suggestion off like a pesky bee buzzing around. "No, no! Just go ahead and catch those deviants! I'll . . ." Hank leaned against the railing beside him, head thrown back. " . . . I'll just catch up with you."

"Got it," With an obedient nod, Connor whipped around and resumed his chase for the capture of the deviants and the female human. He scurried inside the corridors, his polished shoes slewing against the pavement and using his optics to unearth the faintest evidences of the combat android turned deviant's traces to pursue. He came to a skidding halt once a soft clink of a metal door softly closing reached his eardrums and soon enough, not a few second wasted, he found himself at the very last hallway built in the factory, and charged towards the door at the very end.

Shoving the door open with one of his calloused hand, he firmly stood at the very back of the factory where abandoned constructions machineries were laid like garbage and there - a cemented wall a few meters away from him - were numerous huge crates of different sizes where the duo of deviants and human Autumn Judge were using as makeshift stairs. New pop ups appeared on his optics.

[ Current Objective - Catch The Deviants ]

[ Side Objective - Question The Human ]

Without a single thought, Connor sprinted towards mentioned crates and as early as he calculated he was near enough, he extended his arm to reach and tightly took hold of the combat android's arm, tugging it back with all his might which caused it to stagger backwards until it fell from the crate it once stood upon and collapsed on the gravel covered groun. RK800 Connor parted his lips to reprimand the deviant of its desire to escape his clutches and the law's consequences - he could tell the deviant that it has the right to remain silent but seeing as humans' rights aren't applied with androids and deviants, it was out of the question - and surrender quietly but he nearly bit his tongue off when a swift kick was delivered to his face. Thankfully, his reflex saved him from ant damages. Before he could regain composure, a knee made contact with his chest followed by a powerful push. The thirium flowing in his thirium empowered pump temporarily stilled from the impact it endured and from that, Connor hovered a hand over his chest but kept his vice grip around its arm, unfazed as he staggered from its' assault.

"[ Your Name ]!" Autumn clamored in a moment of frenzy and made a motion to move from the highest crate to help and save the deviant - [ Your Name ] - from his duty-inclined actions but the other deviant - Daryl as it has stated earlier in the arena - was quick to hold her back and getting involved in the situation by wrapping his hand around her wrist.

[ Your Name ] moved towards him and grabbed both his arms, intending to redo its attack from earlier but already having seen it once, Connor successfully retaliated by ducking down, dodging the leg that thrusted above his head before getting back on his feet. Its leg got caught on Connor's shoulder and he used this opportunity to push forward in order to make it lose its balance and fall down and pin it helplessly to the ground. At this, it responded by letting go of both of his arms and flipped back to keep its state of balance. It's quite troublesome. Connor thought as he shot his fist towards it face but it leaned away and threw itself to the side. Connor had never encountered a deviant that could equal his intelligence and attacks, but encountering this combat android, he was proven quite wrong and if he ever had feelings, he wouldn't know how or what to feel.

"What are you doing? Let go of me! We need to help her!" Autumn cried out as she desperately tried tugging her wrist from Daryl's hold.

Daryl shook his head in disagreement. "You'll just get caught in it! We need to trust her!"

[ Your Name ] rolled towards the stack of bricks and skidded to a stop, teetering the said bricks to its precarious downfall. Connor took note of its subtle and sneaky fingers enveloping the brick that bumped against its footwear - he knew exactly what its intention was. It was too obvious to miss. Before he could process his next approach, the brick was already sent flying towards his rigid figure. In an instant, he swiped his arm to the side, the brick colliding with the synthetic skin of his forearm but his pupils dilated as a hand appeared charging to his face in a rapid speed. Though his bewildrement did not last long as the deviant wished it would. In a way to defend himself, he lifted his hand to catch the fist hurtling his direction in midair, just in time before it could cause any damage on him.

Connor's lips let a gasp slip from him, just like [ Your Name ]'s lips did once their hands connected. What information he failed to gain from the deviant was now within his grasp the second they their hands touched.

[ New Information Available ]

[ Model - AA 01 ]

[ Given Name - [ Your Name ] ]

[ Model - Combat Android ]

[ Owner - Ruth Judge ]

What on earth? Connor could see himself downloading all the information given to him but not because he wanted to or because of his purpose to acquire every single information needed to make a successfuly investigation, but because his subconsciousness wanted to. Subconsciousness, well that wasn't part of an android features and not having to run an analysis on himself, it especially wasn't part of his program. In that horrifying realization, Connor pulled away as though the combat android's hand stung him and fell to the ground with a soft thud, gawking at [ Your Name ]. It stared back at him with the same expression, LED glowing red. It must be experiencing the same thing but how come? He wanted to dwell more into this enigma but another realization dawned him - that after coming in contact with you, all his software instability disappeared in an instant. In fact, he could consider himself at peace.

"What are you waiting for? Let's fo [ Your Name ]!" Autumn hollered. Connor was idle, too stunned and too perplexed to chase after the three of them and settled only on watching as the female human dragged the combat android back up to the crates to escape the factory. Daryl jumped first, disappearing behind the wall and Autumn was next. [ Your Name ] was preparing to leap in tow with them but before it did, it spared a look back to stare at him. Connor stares back at it and said nothing as it jumped and ran off with its companions.

Connor picked up the subtle sound of the door slamming open behind him and the familiar footsteps of his partner in crime approaching him. However, he didn't look over his shoulder but rather fixated his sight on his hand which formerly held the deviant's fist. His hand was vibrating softly, as though desiring to touch and hold the deviant's hand once more. "Connor? Connor!"

Catching sight of the prototype merely sitting on the ground, Hank can't help but think of the worse and begab conjuring up ridiculous reasons as to why an android of his type was doing nothing to pursue its goal. "Are you okay? What happened? Where's the deviants? The human?" Hank questioned Connor but he was rendered shocked when an unexpected response from the RK800 reached his ears.

"Lieutenant," Connor starts as he begins looking back to stare into Hank's eyes, "Do you believe in soulmates?"

--

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