#the sound that cat made is forever seared into my brain

[casdeans-pie]

Anna pressing the handprint scar while she and Dean had sex

Meanwhile

Castiel at that very moment:

[p0orbaby]

Tropicana with the Bits

summary: honeymoon sex on a boat? yes fucking please

warnings: SMUT 18+, public sex (boat), strap-on use, use of a camera, spit, spanking, dom!ale vibes

a/n: this has been sat half cooked in my draft for a while. a certain blonde’s performances in the olympics have spurred me to finish it…

word count: 1.4k

-

This is the fucking life.

The sun. The sea. And a ‘24 quadruple under your belt.

Oh, and a shiny new ring and a brand new wife to tie everything up nicely.

Like a lazy, spoiled cat, you stretch out on the deck of the yacht, the gentle rocking of the boat a sleep-inducing background rhythm. The Mediterranean sun kisses your skin, leaving a warm, tingling sensation that pairs well with the salt of the sea air. A soft breeze rustles the pages of a magazine you’ve abandoned, and the distant squawk of gulls mingles with the sound of waves lapping against the hull. You close your eyes, letting the tranquility wash over you.

Alexia commands the helm, her presence undeniable even in stillness. Dressed in a white linen shirt, unbuttoned to reveal her abs and the curves of her breasts, and a harness snug against her hips, she looks like a wild, untamed champion. The breeze teases her hair, and her eyes meet yours with a predatory gaze.

You think back to the first time you met her on the pitch. Mature for her age, dominating the midfield with grace and power, even back then. And you hated it. You hated how she skipped past you like you were nothing. Discarding you like you were dirt on the bottom of her boots.

She was so effortlessly good, it drove you mad.

Mad to the point that there wasn’t a second that went by that your thoughts weren’t filled with one Alexia putellas. Her smirk emblazoned on the inside of you eyeless every time you tried to sleep. Her intensity clouding your head enough to make you miss simple passes, your concentration shattered by the mere thought of her. She haunted your dreams and invaded your waking moments, a constant, maddening presence.

And things haven’t really changed.

She looks at you with that same intensity, but you know it’s because she’s thinking about what position she likes you in best, not the fastest way in which she can embarrass you on the grass. Your brain is still plagued by the thought of her, but now you know what she’s hiding underneath those jerseys, so your brain fog is warranted.

You are certain your wife is made by the gods themselves.

Leaving the wheel, she approaches with a slow, deliberate stride. Her shirt billows open, exposing more of her tanned skin and the black strap-on jutting proudly from her hips. The sight sends a rush of heat through you, your body aching for her touch.

Or aching from how much she has touched thus far into your honeymoon. You can’t tell, and you don’t care to. This is your time to celebrate, to relax and enjoy your freedom. Her touch, her voice, her presence—everything about Alexia drives you wild with desire. You remember the late-night whispers and her mischievous grin when she suggested bringing a camera on this trip. The memories of your wedding night flood back, the way she took you on the balcony of your suite, moonlight caressing your intertwined bodies.

This time, there’s a camera set up in the corner, its lens catching the light like a voyeur. A wedding gift from you to her, both the camera and its purpose. The idea of being filmed, of capturing these intimate moments forever, had always excited her, and after years of her playful begging, you finally relented.

So here you are, as naked as the day you were born, squirming slightly as anticipation coils in your belly.

Alexia kneels beside you, her hands cool against your heated skin as she traces patterns on your stomach. The strap brushes against your thigh, a teasing promise of what she has in store for you. She leans down, her lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. Her tongue explores your mouth, her teeth grazing your lower lip, and you melt into her. Her other hand grips your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, where she leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses.

She pulls back, her eyes dark with desire. “¿Estás preparada?” she murmurs, her voice a low growl. You nod, your breath hitching in your throat. She smirks, her fingers trailing down your body to part your thighs. Her touch is confident, experienced, each stroke designed to drive you wild. She pauses, glancing at the camera, her eyes gleaming with excitement before returning her focus to you.

The first thrust is slow, deliberate, the strap filling you inch by inch. You gasp, your hands clutching at her shoulders, your nails digging into her skin through her shirt. She moves with a rhythm that’s almost hypnotic, each stroke driving you higher, closer to the edge. The feeling of the silicone inside you, combined with the solid deck beneath you and the gentle rocking of the yacht, is almost too much to bear.

Alexia leans down, her breath hot against your ear. “Te ves tan jodidamente bien,” she whispers, her voice rough with arousal. The words send a thrill through you, your body tightening around the strap. She grins, a feral expression, and picks up the pace, her hips snapping against yours with increasing intensity. She’s putting on a show, not just for you but for the camera, her movements precise and deliberate.

She pauses for a moment, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting back in hard, eliciting a sharp cry from you. “You like that, don’t you?” she taunts, her voice dripping with dominance. “You love being fucked like this, being watched.” Her words make you moan louder, pleasure and embarrassment making your skin flush.

Alexia’s hand slides between your legs, her fingers finding your clit and rubbing in slow, torturous circles. “Beg for it,” she demands, her voice firm. When you hesitate, she smacks your thigh, the sting sharp and thrilling. “I said beg for it”

“Please, Ale,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need. “Please, fuck me harder”

She smirks, clearly pleased with your response. “Buena chica,” she purrs, increasing the pressure on your clit as she resumes thrusting, harder and faster this time. Your moans grow louder and you’re certain you have just disturbed a flock of Caspian Tern.

Alexia grabs your hips, lifting them slightly to change the angle, each thrust hitting deeper, making you see stars, galaxies, andromeda. Her free hand moves to your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath catch, causing you to suck in breaths when she’s too distracted to press at your windpipe.

“Such a pretty sight,” she murmurs, glancing at the camera again. “All spread out and desperate for me”

She leans down, spitting on your chest and rubbing it into your skin with rough, possessive strokes. “Mine,” she growls, her eyes burning with intensity.

You can barely form a coherent thought, your entire world narrowed down to the relentless rhythm of her hips, the firm grip on your throat, and the fiery trail her spit leaves on your skin. Each thrust pushes you closer to the infinity, the pressure building inside you like a ticking time bomb.

Alexia’s hand moves from your throat to your ass, delivering a sharp slap that makes you cry out. “Take it,” she commands, her voice scratchy with arousal and sharp with authority. “Take everything I give you”

You nod frantically, your body on fire with need. She slaps you again, harder this time, the pain mingling with the pleasure in a deliciously heady mix. Her movements become almost brutal, each thrust sending shockwaves through you, your orgasm building to an almost unbearable intensity.

“Look at me,” she commands, her voice a growl that sends another wave of pleasure through you. You force your eyes open, meeting her gaze. The intensity there is almost too much to bear, a conflagration of desire and possessiveness that leaves you breathless. She smirks, pleased with your obedience, and redoubles her efforts, her hips driving into you with unrelenting force.

When you finally come, it’s with a force that leaves you shaking, your entire body tensing and then releasing like spring that’s snapped under the weight of pleasure. Alexia doesn’t stop, drawing out your orgasm, riding it out until you’re a quivering, boneless mess beneath her.

Only then does she slow, her movements gentle, soothing, as she helps you come down from the high. She leans in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, a stark contrast to the fire behind her movements just seconds ago.

Finally spent, she collapses beside you, pulling you into her arms. You nestle against her, your head resting on her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. Her hand strokes your back, a comforting rhythm that lulls you into a state of blissful contentment. The gentle rocking of the yacht, the warmth of her body against yours, it’s all perfect, a cocoon of love and satisfaction. Alexia glances over at the camera, a satisfied smile playing on her lips, before she whispers, “This is just the beginning”

[good-chimes]

Grumbot, was I a good mayor in your world?

--

YOU WERE THE BEST, the little slip of paper reassures him, FOR 5 MINUTES.

“Wait,” Scar says, to the smiling face of the AI construct he’s just asked about his alternate-universe mayorship, “what does that mean?”

--

“Scar,” Grian says, “have we got a deal for you.”

It’s the day of the vote, in the first flush of Scar’s unexpected and frankly very nerve-wracking victory, and there’s a little visiting contingent directly across his new and shiny mayor’s desk. Mumbo and Grian.

“Why are you in a suit?” Scar says.

“Grumbot told me to wear it,” Grian says, as if this isn’t important. “Anyway, listen. A chest of diamond blocks. A whole chest. And we’ve marked off all the land that still has wild cats. The deal of the century, Scar.”

“So…what do you want?” Scar says, bemused.

“We want Mumbo for mayor,” Grian says. “Isn’t that right, Mumbo?”

--

“A-hem, Scar, great to talk to you, mate, I hope you’re doing well, we just had a small matter we wanted to raise for your attention—what do I say to him, Grian?—I can’t just say that!” It’s a simple statement of fact! “It sounds really bad!” Just say it, Mumbo! We can’t keep him locked in there forever, he’s going to get out! “Scar, we’ve been taking some advice from Grumbot and, well, we’ve embarked on a course of action—”

There is the sound of someone impatiently wrestling the phone away from Mumbo.

“We’ve got Bdubs, Scar,” Grian says down the phone. “And if you want him back, we need you to make Mumbo mayor.”

--

The mushrooms are everywhere now. Scar wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen the way they fountained out of the ground the minute he broke ground on his promised terraforming—the one Grumbot helped plan, so he thought it would work. At the first stroke of the shovel the mushrooms broke out of the soil like a water spigot, up the sides of buildings, fruiting from trees, spreading across everything. They got Grian first, and the way he screamed in agony or ecstasy—or both—has been seared across Scar’s brain for every minute of the days since.

Mumbo wears the mayor’s sash now. He has fungus crawling up the side of his suit, and he moves more like a puppet every day. The town hall is where he sits at his empty desk, while Grian moves around every shop with his pale hair threaded with toadstool gills and his skin pallid, and a face nobody looks at anymore if they can help it.

Scar has taken refuge in the fungus-free caverns with the last of the uninfected. They’re running out of room, and the spores thread themselves through more of the rock every hour.

Scar, the motherspore says through the walls of the caverns, Scar, we can hear you breathe.

--

Scar’s cell is guarded by redstone constructs, and the door is such a feat of engineering that he can’t even see a crack when it’s closed. There are lights on in the ceiling all the time. Redstone signals light up when he moves, reporting back to a control room he can’t see. He thinks he’s on the fiftieth floor or so; Mumbo’s machines have made building easy. Outside, construction hammers all day and night, and redstone robots crawl over the whole island.

The door opens for the first time in days.

“Scar, hello.”

Mumbo’s eyes are red, and there are trails of redstone under his skin like veins. He twitches his fingers after Grian has trailed in after him and the redstone constructs behind them move to block off the exit. Mumbo’s fully in control of this partnership: Grian’s pupils are blank and there are redstone signals in them that light up in delight when Mumbo looks at him.

Scar knows what he wants. “No.”

“Just your signature. It won’t even take a moment.” It’s Mumbo’s voice, but the phrasing is robotic. “The mayorship needs to be in my name. We all need Mumbo in charge.”

“You can say what you want, Mumbo,” Scar says, “I’m still the mayor you voted for.”

Behind Mumbo, Grian is paying close attention, and when Scar says that the flickering sparks in his eyes are disappointed. He looks at Mumbo, whose red-glowing pupils have just brightened.

“Deal with him,” Mumbo says.

--

Back in the dry, cool cavern where Grumbot 2.0 sits, Scar is perfectly fine and Grian is just ten yards away, tinkering with the redstone in his base. He’s humming to himself. Red woolly sweater, pickaxe in hand, the picture of normality. Mumbo’s on holiday.

“Er,” Scar says, looking down at the little bit of paper that Grumbot has just spat out. “Grian, I have some questions about your robot safety standards. You know what, I’m just going to—”

Scar presses the button one more time. Grumbot’s happy face prints out three more neat little squares of paper.

Mumbo. For. Mayor.

“Oh, he’s very safe,” Grian assures him. “Nothing can go wrong.”

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author’s note: it’s getting interesting here ;) enter prince charming Sugu-kun to save the day.

IX.

https://youtu.be/uhoiqVPmURE

Satoru was afraid of making a move, least he tipped you over the edge and made you bolt; he didn’t want that. Swallowing hard he looked into your eyes… God… he had missed your beautiful E/C eyes so much. Waking up every morning without you by his side, without you kissing him awake cause he was going to be late for work… again. Your absence had left a literal infinite void in his heart that he was unable to fill.

“I know I don’t deserve anything from you Y/N, but I love you and I cannot give up on us… We said forever when we got married. And I want that… with you” speaking from the heart was not something Satoru ever did. He always preferred to cover any emotions with inappropriate jokes and double entendres. But he knew he couldn’t play his stupid games, not with you and most certainly not now.

You pulled away in that moment, as if his touch was burning you. He allowed it, doing his utmost effort not to pull you back in. His hands itched resting at his sides, missing the warmth of your body.

|||

It was you and me, it seemed to last forever

The way you taste and I still remember… the sounds we made.

|||

“It would have been nice if you felt that way before you decided to ruin this marriage. Where were those promises of forever when you fucked someone else?” You asked piercing his eyes with yours. He cowered under your glare. Satoru had never been on the receiving end of your wrath and now he understood why most people chose (wisely) to not mess with you. Every single one of your words was chosen carefully to cause the most damage. At the same time… what hurt the most was that you were right.

“Leave and don’t ever come back… you and I… are through…” Satoru noticed how you avoided calling him by his name, he hated it. As if uttering his name would leave a bad taste in your mouth “Y/N…” he whispered pleadingly when you took another step away. But this time he didn’t have the courage to stop you as you disappeared inside your apartment and locked the door behind you.

|||

I bet you wish you had me back! Another chance to gain it, just like that. The best you ever had.

|||

Satoru was fucked.

—————

The next morning Suguru’s plane landed. JFK international airport was as busy and chaotic as one would expect. After collecting his luggage he made his way to a cab giving the driver your current address.

He hadn’t been able to sleep a wink during the trip, his mind swarmed with all the possibilities of what could be happening right now. Satoru didn’t play fair and of course… you loved (probably still love) the lucky bastard.

With a sigh he decided to focus instead on the city going by through the cab’s windows. It wasn’t the first time he was in New York and his mind was much more occupied torturing him instead of appreciating the landscape.

After 40 minutes, Geto stood before a very nice and modern building located in the upper east side called Hawthorn Park. You sure knew how to live in luxury. He approached the doorman and let him know his name and that he was here to see Miss Ekaterina Petrova to which the kind looking old man responded by using his intercom to contact you. Geto was soon granted access and guided to the elevator.

The elevator doors opened on the 21st floor, he walked to the door of your apartment which was already open and you were waiting for him. His smile fell once he noticed you have been crying “oh Kitten” dropping his luggage on the spot he surrounded your body in his arms “I’m so sorry…” one didn’t need to be a genius to know Satoru had found you.

You both moved inside your apartment. Settling on the spacious couch you buried your face on Suguru’s lap as you cried. He stroked your now darker strands of h/c hair without a word exchanged. He knew you needed to let it all out. After what seemed an eternity you sat back up. Suguru gently dried your eyes.

“He was here last night…” you whispered in a raw and scratchy voice, result of your endless hours of distress before his arrival “he told me he loved me, that he left Sookie” scoff “and hear this… he left her because the baby wasn’t his!” Talk about karma at its best. Suguru already knew that but he was surprised to hear Satoru had come clean about it to you “He probably thought I would fall for that! But I didn’t” you added firmly.

Suguru was proud of you. He knew how hard it was for you to resist Satoru but you stood tall and proud when it mattered the most. “What do you want to do now?” Where you planning on moving again?

-

“I’m not leaving…” you said looking into Suguru’s liquid amber gaze. You couldn’t help but notice once again he had such pretty eyes, like a cat. You’ve always liked them, specially when they looked at you with such tenderness. You have missed him dearly during all this time.

“I can’t keep running away from him; I mean… it’s obvious he won’t stop and I… I am tired of molding my life to adapt to his whims. I’m staying here whatever happens. Sugu… I got the part for the Swan Lake!” You added remembering you haven’t talked to him during the last week and so he didn’t know about your latest accomplishment.

Geto’s eyes enlarged before a huge smile split his handsome face and his massive frame engulfed you in a tight hug. Of course he knew everything about ballet, he was your best friend after all. This was huge! Probably as big as making it in the ballet world meant “I’m so proud of you Kitten!” He said excitedly kissing your temple. Maybe not everything was as bad as he thought.

You were upset, it was true. But then again you were not prepared last night. Satoru had taken you by surprise. Now… you knew he was here and more or less knew what to expect from your soon to be ex-husband.

“Thank you Sugu…” you stopped and pulled back just slightly to look into his eyes from your height. He was a very tall man compared to you “I missed you” you said with a bright smile to which Geto replied with one of his own before pulling you in again for another hug “I missed you too Kitten” stroking your back softly Suguru decided he was happy to be here… with you.

-

https://youtu.be/3oSXqLgoSq4

|||

She's given up, been holding on for way too long

She's had enough

He's coming home again

But it's too late 'cause she won't stay with him

|||

The sunshine hitting his face was what woke him up. With a grunt Satoru rolled over on his side only to fall unceremoniously from the couch where he had passed out last night. The last thing he remembered was warping back to his hotel after you left him on the roof. The memory of you, turning your back on him and walking away squeezed his heart in a painful grasp.

Alcohol was never something he was attracted to, he liked to keep his brain constantly alert and stimulated. It served a purpose of course, it kept his infinity barrier on at all times, even when he was asleep. But last night he hit rock bottom. He didn’t care anymore…

As soon as he got back to the hotel, hopelessness made a home in his chest, sitting heavy on his heart. Walking to the fully stocked bar placed on the corner of his suite he opened a bottle of whiskey. He started slow since most everything was too bitter for his taste, so he went through the process of trying every single bottle until he found something to his liking.

Two hours and about fifteen different shots of everything he decided to settle for a bottle of Amaretto, some fancy Italian liquor made of apricot kernels. It was sweet.

Everything else after that was blur. Moving his sore body from the floor he forced himself to go to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help ease his misery. Peeling off his clothes the smell of booze clinging on them made Gojo cringe. He decided to brush his teeth before showering. Looking in the mirror he couldn’t recognize the man starring back at him. He was a mess.

|||

Are we just ghosts out in the night?

Are we just waiting for a light that doesn't shine?

Are we just faking or is this real?

'Cause I don't know how to feel

Are we just ghosts now, you and I?

|||

Last night he had been so desperate, so hopeless and broken hearted. That’s when it hit him… his wife didn’t hurt him, she didn’t cheat on him (unlike himself), she didn’t do anything to him and yet he was feeling as if the world was collapsing around him. He lied, cheated and fucked up everything for them both.

Guilt…

Unadulterated, burning and suffocating guilt was consuming him. He felt bad before but it wasn’t until last night that he grasped the concept that Y/N didn’t owe him anything at all and that HE didn’t deserve it anyways.

The plan originally had been to get back in your good graces by doing penitence, submitting to your every whim and desire by becoming your devoted slave for as long as you would have it. He never even considered the possibility that his wife DID NOT WANT to forgive him in the first place.

He thought you left to give him a lesson, that you would eventually come back to him after he had a taste of what it was like to lose you.

But even after you both shared such a searing kiss, so passionate that every cell in his body was humming, aflame with desire you still managed to walk away from him as if it meant nothing to you.

What good did it do to him to be the strongest when he couldn’t even protect his wife… from himself.

After showering, changing clothes and ordering every sweet pastry and desert from the room service menu Gojo stopped to rethink his strategy.

What?…

Did you think he was going to stop there?

Absolutely no, love!

If anything, your rejection had only fueled his need to get you back.

“Time for plan B” sighing he pulled out his phone it rang a couple times before someone answered “good morning Mrs. Mazzo, this is Gojo Satoru. I’m going to need you to forward to me Miss Petrova’s rehearsal schedule…”

—

“This is really good!” You hummed happily after swallowing a bite of your steak. Suguru sat across from you at Keens Steakhouse, with a grin he watched as you indulged yourself in what you called your ‘cheat meal’ of the month. Being a professional ballerina was a tough and demanding commitment that controlled every aspect of your life, from how you train to what you eat. Despite it all, Geto knew you always found a happy balance that worked just fine for you.

Seeing your big smile made his heart jump in his chest, you were as beautiful and alluring as the day he met you. If only he had told you he liked you before Satoru did. This question kept him up at night, playing all sorts of scenarios in his mind. If he had taken the first step… would things have been different? Would you have ended up together? Married? Shaking his head he tried to focus on what you were actually saying. Deviating his thoughts to that kind of scenarios was dangerous. He also didn’t want to push it when he was perfectly aware you were still healing; he wasn’t a low life piece of shit to take advantage of your vulnerability.

But when you smiles at him as if he was the only thing in your world, when you held his hand across the table, playing with his finger, his throat felt dry and tight.

“What do you think Sugu?” Your curious and expecting eyes caught him like a deer in the headlights “I’m sorry Kitten, I was distracted. Could you repeat that please?” He asked with an affable smile.

You chuckled and stroke his hand softly “you look tired, did you sleep at all in the plane?” He shook his head “no, I didn’t. I never can, it’s uncomfortable” he hid on purpose the true reason why he hadn’t been able to sleep “come on Sugu! Let’s go back home! I bet you are tired” you said offering him a sweet smile.

After paying your bill you walked the few blocks back home. Suguru of course would be staying with you in the spare room of your penthouse. Holding hands while you talked to him about the activities the city had to offer, your schedule and how you intended to fit the time to do some tourism with him. “You don’t have to bother Kitten, I know you are busy enough with your job, I will be fine” he insisted.

You stopped on your tracks and stood in front of him, pouting, making him chuckle. You looked every bit the kitten he knew you to be, all bothered and moody “no! I want to spend time with you too you know! I haven’t seen you in so long! I’m not going to waste this chance!” You insisted to which Suguru threw his hands up in the air “I surrender Kitten! Do with me as you will” you giggled and then blushed. “Uh… eh… ok! I will!” He took your hand again and you both resumed your walk.

-

Satoru warped to the roof top of the building adjacent to yours, the lights were out in your apartment and he couldn’t sense your presence inside. You left? Where did you go?

Before a second though he warped inside your apartment but he saw all your stuff was still there, maybe you went out for groceries or something?

After a few minutes sitting on your couch he decided to wait for you on the street so he could see when you got home.

(Almost an hour later)

Oh… he wasn’t ready for what he saw.

“That mother fu….” Satoru grinds his teeth watching you walk down the street holding onto Suguru’s hand while talking distractedly. From his hiding spot in front of your building he closed his hands in a tight fist.

Well, this complicated things… a lot more.

————-> Chapter 10

———————————-

@sleepyamaya

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@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

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[cupidsintern]

the death of hyacinthus - pt. i

this is my old renaissance au with artist!billy and model!steve so enjoy lol

The light spills out onto the floor before the window, making the worn wood of the floor look bright again, like new. The light doesn't reach Steve though. Billy set up the scene like that on purpose, closer to the center of his studio. No direct light. He wants this to be lit like it's the beginning of twilight. In his head, Hyacinth dies at sunset.

The room is silent, has been for a while, other than birds outside the window, a breeze that made the window tap against itself lightly, and fabric shifting if Steve stirs from where he is at all, draped across this haphazard construction of pillows, blankets, and a bench.

That's the word Billy used; “drape”. When Steve got to the studio Billy was kicking pillows around on his little model platform, trying to get everything set up right, hardly even greeting Steve at all before launching into his explanation of how he wanted Steve to look.

“-and he’s dying, but he’s not dead yet,” Billy walked half a circle around the platform, hands out. “So Apollo would- damn-” A pillow fell over, he pushed it back up. “Would be here. So if you can just sort of drape yourself across right here-”

Steve was stripping off the last of his garments when Billy turned back around.

“Here?” Steve finished kicking his stockings off, crossed to step up onto the platform.

Billy swallowed, looking Steve in the eyes because at least it meant he wouldn't look down, slack jawed. “Yeah, that's- that’s perfect.” Steve was already settling in to sitting down, letting his head fall back against the seat of the bench, throat exposed.

The way he was sitting shifted his weight in his hips more; Billy tried to look critically. Not appreciatively. He shouldn’t be appreciating the son of the nobleman that had decided to be his patron. Not that Steve was even supposed to be modeling for him beyond the two portraits he’d already had done.

“Tip your knee down more,” Billy stepps back, takes in the composition.

Steve drops his knee.

“Turn your head towards me.”

Steve obliges. The line of his nose looks perfect at three quarters.

Billy stepps up to the platform again, pulls some of the fabric forward, lets it fall over Steve's legs more, over his groin- good. Less distracting. More poetic or something- and the line of his thighs beneath the fabric has just the heaviness Billy is looking for. He steps back again.

“What’s the myth again?” Steve’s jaw gains definition when he speaks with his head at this angle.

“The Death of Hyacinthus.”

“I know that part.” Steve rolls his hand a little. “The part before that. How does he die?”

“He- hang on.” Billy steps close again to push things around, make the lines right. “The wind- Zephyr- gets jealous of his beauty. Apollo throws a discus, and Zephyr pushes it off course, so it knocks Hyacinth in the head. Apollo holds him while he dies.” Billy says it all matter-of-factly. He's trying not to get distracted. He picks up Steve's arm to tilt back towards him a little. His skin is warm like the sunlight staining the floor.

“That's sad.” Steve says. His arm feels relaxed in Billy’s grip. “Weren't they close? Apollo and Hyacinth.”

Billy feels a familiar warmth at his neck of this topic. This thing that always comes up when he and Steve are alone. “They were lovers.”

Steve doesn't say anything back to that.

Billy gets the composition mostly how he wants it- and he’ll probably try Steve in a couple different poses, this is only for sketching. He takes ages deciding where to set up to actually draw it- Steve makes fun of him. Billy says he’s not the one naked on a pile of old curtains. That makes Steve laugh. His stomach flexes a little when he laughs.

Billy's glad Steve can be part of his process now.

He gets some general gestures down on paper. He really nails the angle of Steve’s throat- which he's proud of. He needs the arch of the thing to be perfect. And he gets the general idea of Steve's features down quick- he’s drawn Steve's face maybe a thousand times by now. The way his arm falls is tricky- he’ll come back to that in a bit.

“Billy.”

Billy looks up at Steve’s voice. He’s sat up a little, something short of coy in his eyes. “I’m cold.” “You’re cold.” Billy says back to him. Because he never does what Steve implies. Only what Steve says.

“Yeah, like you said- I’m bare ass naked on a pile of curtains.”

“Your calling.”

Steve laughs again. “Do you think we could close the door?”

“We?”

“You. Can you close the door.”

“Who’s the revered artist here?”

“Who’s the patron?”

Billy rolls his eyes, but he drops his chalk into the lip of his easel anyway, walks to pull the door to his studio shut, separating them from the rest of the house. Steve left it open in the first place.

“You’re not my patron.” Billy says when he gets back, picks up to start drawing again.

“I’m close.” Steve only sounds a little superior.

He’s right. He is close to being Billy's patron. He recommended Billy to his family, he talked up Billy’s version of the pieta, he introduced Billy to the Influentials of Florence, got him this nice new studio, set up in one of the family houses. He was only a little superior about it.

Mostly he was nice.

Nice to Billy. Excited about the things he drew, always asking him what he was working on.

Asked to sit for him once, twice, how many more times, he was part of the process now.

This might be what having a muse was, if Billy believed in things like having muses.

Steve scratches the back of his calf with a foot, then sets his legs back down.

“I’m surprised you don’t get bored doing this.” Billy cracks two of the knuckles on his drawing hand, shakes out his wrist. He’s only prying a little.

“I like watching you work,” comes Steve's easy reply.

“Still.” Billy smudges at a stray line with his thumb. “You’re always fidgety at dinners and shit. Not here.”

“Dinners are boring.” Steve sighs.

He had expressed that sentiment before. That he found Billy much more interesting than anything his family ever did. That he’d trade his infinite wealth for the virve Billy so possessed. Only he didn't say it like that. He said “I’d trade all of this shit for whatever makes your art so beautiful.”

And Billy said “You wouldn't want to. Trust me.”

Billy, having seared the image of Steve into his brain by now, was adding more definition in places, really letting his focus slide out of his head.

And it’s quiet for a bit. Billy doesn't notice when the silence breaks- the sound of shifting fabric, bare feet on wood floor-

“Shit, that’s really good.” Steve's voice startles Billy a little, but he doesn’t let it show. Just turns a little abruptly to find Steve leaning over his shoulder.

“Looks just like me.” Steve continued, hovering his fingertips over Billy's rendition of his nose.

“You don’t have to sound so impressed every time.” Billy rolled his eyes, pushing Steve’s hand away.

“Oh, excuse me for showing some enthusiasm.” Steve hummed another laugh, still looking at the paper. He traced a finger absentmindedly down his own flesh-and-blood nose, marveling at the likeness.

Billy couldn't focus enough to continue with Steve so close. Not like he’d never seen Steve in next to nothing before. But this was really and truly nothing. And even naked as the day he was born Steve exuded wealth in just the way he stood. Like clothes were nothing but decoration on something already… beautiful.

“Can you go back to your spot, please?” Billy got out, looking away like he was annoyed.

Steve just smiled at him before padding back to his platform, throwing the fabric back over his legs.

But now the composition was wrong-

“So,” Steve’s voice carried across the sun-soaked chambers. “Why Hyacinth?”

“What do you mean.” Billy was trying desperately to collect his thoughts.

“I mean, he’s dating a god, right? Why him? What's so special about him.”

“He’s beautiful.”

“And?”

“Well, I mean, he’s a Spartan prince, he’s legendary. Apollo doesn't even really pick him. Hyacinth has, like, a bunch of people to choose from. He picks Apollo.”

Billy can’t draw like this, especially since Steve fucked up the composition- probably on purpose.

Billy gets up with an unintentional little huff and gets close to Steve again, has to adjust his legs again, avoid staring at the pinks that dust Steve’s everywhere-

“You draw me a lot.” Steve interrupts Billy’s train of thought.

Billy looks up, holding Steve’s wrist like it was his own. “You sit for me a lot-”

“What's your favorite part to draw?”

Billy’s breathing feels thicker, like his throat is coated in honey, sweet but hard to breathe. “Of you?” “Yeah.”

“Your nose.” Billy says easily, because it's safe to say.

Steve smiles. “You've said that before.”

“It's true.” Billy prepares to turn away again, to tell Steve they should get more done while there's still daylight.

Steve’s fingers hook against the palm of Billy's hand. This is playing with fire.

Steve lifts Billy's hand up, touches it to the bridge of his nose.

He can feel the sharp bone under his forefinger.

“Where else?”

Billy inhales. It's a feat. “Your jaw.”

Steve pulls Billy's hand down his cheek to touch his jawline. They’ve been avoiding this forever,

“And?” Cliche game of cat and mouse. Right now, Billy’s the mouse.

“Your shoulders.” Billy watches Steve drag his hand down his perfect neck to the slope of his perfect shoulders. “Steve.”

“Billy.” Steve mocks Billy’s warning tone just a little. “Come on, what else?”

Billy swallows again. He doesn't respond he just lets his hand wander lower, lower, down his chest, to his stomach-

Billy stops his hand, pushes back against Steve’s. “I’ve never drawn you nude, if that's what you’re implying.”

“Maybe you should.” Steve’s finger’s slide up Billy's forearm to hook under the edge of his rolled up sleeve.

“I’d need a couple different references...” Billy trails off. He knows Steve is about to kiss him.

It’s still delicious when he does. No number of days, weeks, waiting for one of them to make a move, of thinking what that move would be, what it would feel like, would have prepared Billy for the spit-sweet taste of a first kiss in the late afternoon.

-

i might do a part ii or just leave it like this lol

[yumihoe]

{You'll float too }

A yandere villain  Uraraka x gn reader 

Wordcount :1.5k

Tw: Mentions of Kidnapping, undescriptive gore , Drugging , abuse , 

Your arm hurt.

That was the first thought as the grogginess of sleep left you. Your arm was pulsing, a rhythmic, heartbeat-like throb. The pain intensifies as the final slithers of sleep slipped away.

Fuck your arm hurt.

You forced yourself to sit up, moving from the fetal position you had tucked yourself into the night before.

The memories of the night's occurrences flooding back into your memory.  

Uraraka had strapped you down, onto a gurney of some sort, cooing as she injected one of Kurogiri’s concoctions into the vein on your leg-or had it been your arm -Reassuring you that it would numb you enough that you would hardly feel what she was about to do next.

What- What had she done next? Whatever it was the pain it caused had made you pass out. Which leads to waking up on the cot in the corner.

The room smelled awful. A smell you couldn't exactly pinpoint. Sickenly sweet and rotten all at the same time. The smell so overwhelming that it made you nauseous and that coupled with the pulsating of your arm made your head spin.

You almost laughed to yourself.

What were you expecting? For your prison to smell like roses and fresh fields of lavender? You had managed to be kidnapped by the league of villains. This wasn't a five-star resort.

Of course, it would fucking stink.

You had spent the first two days of your captivity wondering what any other sane person in your position would, Why you?

There had been instances - few-  when people were kidnaped by the love to be recruited. you recalled watching the news a while back - while you were in high school - A particular story about a boy, now pro hero Dynamight being kidnapped by the league of villains in his U. days as a failed means to recruit him for their cause.

But that was the problem. Dynamight had a wonderful, flashy quirk, one that landed him the position as number 2 hero. Your quirk was hardly flashy or powerful, a simple healing quirk, one that couldn't even be used to heal yourself. That coupled with your lack of training equated to you being an ordinary civilian.

Maybe they wanted to make an example out of you. Broadcast your death for thousands of viewers, similar to the way the villain Dabi had exposed his father's crimes to the world on a national stage.

It was on The third day of your stay you received your answer.

There was no grand cause, no divine reasoning behind your kidnapping.

She had brought you here on a whim. Because as she put it

“ I saw you and I wanted you, so I took you .”

As if you were a pretty knickknack on the ground, to be picked up and pocketed, instead of a human being.

Maybe there had been more to it than that, but that was all you caught before passing out from the pain again.

Uraraka seemed to take great joy in strapping you down to the makeshift gurney. Round Face tinged red as she shocked and carved and prodded and poked. You were brought here to suffer

no less, no more.

The sound of footsteps edging closer to your room snapped you out of your thoughts. You retracted back into the corner ignoring the searing red pain from your arm as you shriveled back into a ball. Uraraka bounced into the room Flipping on the light switch and shutting the door sharply behind her. Under the pale flickering white light, You took a moment to study her features.

Round face, rosy cheeks, button nose Auburn hair falling on either side of her face.

In another life, you might have said she looked innocent.

Cute.

Albeit except for the all to familiar look of demented infatuation in her oval eyes. The brown orbs seeming to be forever dilated.  

“ Your awake “ She stated skipping closer to your huddled form.

“ I was beginning to worry that you lost too much blood while I was giving you your gift.” You pushed yourself further back into the wall as she inched closer to the cot. She ignored your clear discomfort in favor of grabbing at your heavy arm. Now that the room was illuminated you noticed the bandages wrapped tightly around the limb.

“ I took extra care to make sure it doesn't get infected, and ill even have Dabi cauterize it later for you.” She said cheerfully picking at the wrappings. Slowly undoing them.  

The wrapping fell onto the cot. Uraraka smiled, admiring her handiwork. Your eyes widened looking at the thing that was making your arm ache so badly.

“Property of Of Ochako Uraraka”

The repulsive branding had been scribbled on your arm in pretty cursive. Starting at the curve of your elbow and ending right before your hand.

The room started spinning.

“ Do you like it pet?”

Her voice sounded far away now, drowned out in your dizziness.

Why was the room spinning?

She looked at you- head cocked to the side slightly, reaching out and forcing your chin straight to make eye contact with her.

“ You really ought to be more grateful you know” She sneered dilated eyes now small, black beads. The look of infatuation was replaced with something- something darker.

“You have no idea how hard it was to convince Shigaraki to let you stay here. Trying to make him believe that worthless little healing quirk of yours could be of use to us.” She sneered, the light fluffiness in her voice gone now.

“ The least you could do is answer me when I speak to you pet.”

Your voice comes out broken and horse, “ W-Why Why could I like this y- your f- fucking sick you cra-

You hear the smack before you feel the sharp tingling on the side of your face.

“ Pet you really must learn to mind your manners .” She hissed. Snatching the collar of your tattered shirt, yanking you upright until you were flush against her face. For a second you were sure she would kill you then and there. With that sick fucking look in her eyes it wouldn't be a stretch. Maybe she would kill you and put you out of your misery. She kept you like that ….staring deeply into your eyes before letting go of your shirt. Your body falling back onto the cot.

“ Come pet, I want to show you something .” She said standing up swiftly. you try to stand up shakily legs quivering. Since you'd been brought here you hadn't been allowed to leave the room. You warily stood up and started to slowly trail behind her.

She skipped cheerfully down the hall and up a flight of rotting wooden stairs. You tried to take in your surroundings as best you could as she pulled you along, But the only thing you recognized was the smell. The same sickenly sweet offsetting smell. It was stronger now, clouding your senses.  

You walked for what seemed an eternity - were your legs this sore before? - until she halted suddenly in front of a door at the end of a long hallway.

The sweet rotting smell was the strongest here.

She moved to open the door before stopping and turning around flashing you a sly cat-like smile “ O-OO-OOO” She squealed giddily jumping up and down, “c’mere pet It'll be a surprise “ She yanked you closer to placing your hand on the doorknob. She placed her head in the crook of the neck before covering your eyes with her palms, pinkies on each hand slightly raised as to keep you from floating away. “ I'm going to count down from three and when I reach one I want you to open this door, can you do that for me pet?” She whispered deliriously. You nodded - much too afraid to put up any form of protest.  “ Three.” She started, pausing to bite down sharply on your neck.

“Two “ She continued pink tongue darting out to lap at the sweet red liquid from the wound she created.  

“one.”

Your hand turned the doorknob and Uraraka urgently ushered you into the room. Flicking on another light switch. The smell coming from the room was enough to make you sick, though Uraraka seemed to be unbothered by it.

You looked around for a second, confused.

Splat

Something wet had fallen on your nose. Your hand reached up to touch the foreign liquid.

To your horror, it was blood.

you slowly tilted your head up to be met by hundreds, no thousands of floating bodies.

Your brain finally registered the suffocating smell

of death. These people were dead.

“ What -what is this.” You choked out .” Uraraka took her hand in yours smiling like  a woman possessed.

“ This pet, This is my collection.” She said almost proudly. The room wasn't spinning at this point, it was convulsing. She took your face into her hands squishing your cheeks together.

The room finally stopped moving as you focused in on those brown dilated pupils.

“ See pet the way I see it, you could submit to me, and mind of your fucking manners, learn how to be more fucking grateful or, she said moving closer to ear nibbling at it bit before continuing

“ You'll float too”

yes I got the idea for this from Georgie from It. 😭✋

[nightingiall]

things i love about you: our rituals

a post-little do you know drabble series // story page

happy december! today marks six (!!!!!!) years since i started the december drabbles, which means it’s moniall’s anniversary! to commemorate the occasion, here’s a special lil something. also, if you want to relive my bad 2014 writing the drabbles that started it all, i will finally be posting them on wattpad. enjoy!

There used to be a time Mona hated the cold.

She couldn’t handle it. It made her feel like all her blood vessels had simply seized, wound up so tightly that she needed to find every single bit of warmth to bury herself under in order to feel like she could function again.

As she watched the tiny flurries of white drift from the sky to delicately blanket the ground in a layer of snow, she smiled to herself, remembering the first time they were here at their little cabin. It was the beginning of so much, of friendship, of love, of rituals they could seek solace in year after year. Four bedrooms, a generously sized dining room, and a roaring fireplace had somehow transformed from a simple husk of wood to a safe place, a home away from home, filled with laughter and jokes no one else would understand.

The snow picked up slightly, very quickly covering the driveway in white, and she realized that she no longer minded the cold. Not when she had this, a winter cabin filled with all the people she loved. There were even several new additions to the family, one of whom now pawed happily at her feet. She scooped the little fluffball into her arms, cradling it like a small child. “Hi, baby,” she cooed, holding the puppy up to see out the window. “Have you ever seen snow before?”

They certainly hadn’t gotten any in the city. And this sweet little pup was only a baby. Mona figured snow must be a new concept to her. She wondered if she’d like to trot around in the white slush tomorrow morning.

Niall had gotten the puppy as a surprise.

They’d arrived back from San Francisco for only a week before it happened. He had it all planned out. It was a Sunday afternoon. They’d devoured their dinner, a bottle of wine popped open, and the radio was turned to a blues station. Mona was washing up their plates in the sink when Niall had slinked up behind her, hands curled easily around her hips as he pressed his warm lips to her shoulder. “I got something for us,” he’d murmured into her hair, his voice that raspy sort of sweetness he took up when he was up to something.

She hummed, his voice a delicious vibrato down her spine. “What?”

When she’d placed the last plate in the dish rack and dried her hands on a towel, he spun her around, hands still a warm weight on her skin. The sun had already started to slink down the horizon, catching on adjacent buildings and throwing warm golden light into their apartment through the kitchen window. Niall’s eyes glimmered with it, bright blue meshing with rich gold sunlight. He was grinning widely at her in that irresistible way of his, and she let herself get whisked along with his excitement. “You’re gonna love it.”

“Okay,” she laughed, because he’d started to tug her towards the front entrance, just as the doorbell chimed. “But what is it.”

He instructed her to open the door and she eyed him suspiciously. “I promise you’re going to adore it!”

With an exasperated sigh, she did as she was told, fingers trembling slightly in anticipation. Waiting outside the door in a chestnut brown wicker basket lined with a soft white fleece blanket was the tiny little pup. Its fur matched the basket, a curly, chocolaty brown, and it was adorably nestled into itself as it slumbered peacefully.

Mona couldn’t help the way she had gasped, hands over her mouth in pure shock. “Is it ours?”

Niall was already smiling when she looked at him. “Yep. All ours.”

The excitement rushed through her like a tsunami, like champagne bubbles gushing when the bottle is opened. She almost wanted to scream but settled for a squeal instead, hopping slightly on her toes before just jumping into Niall’s arms. He laughed as she thanked him profusely, holding her close. She’d been planting the idea of getting a puppy for ages and she honestly didn’t even think he’d been considering it.

As they brought the little ball of cuteness inside, he explained that Duncan’s neighbor’s labradoodle had given birth. They’d taken them all to the vet to get checked and had been looking to give some of them away. This one was female. Like magic, “A Sunday Kind of Love” played softly on the radio, and they decided to name their newest addition to the family Etta.

“What’re you doing?” Niall was asking her now, where she was still standing in front of the window, watching the snow cover the earth.

She shrugged, still cradling the pup. “Etta’s never seen snow.”

He laughed as he leaned against the kitchen doorframe, cheeks flushed with that gorgeous pink that came from gut-busting laughter and too much whiskey. Behind him, the living room was quiet. Everyone else had probably ambled up to bed. She didn’t particularly care. It meant she got this moment all to herself, watching Niall stand there, looking soft and warm in his gray sweats and ugly Christmas sweater. She let Etta run off as she took him in, the light behind him fanning out around his head like a halo, blue eyes watching her with the world of love.

She crossed her arms as she leaned back against the countertop on the far side of the kitchen. “Did you stand there on purpose?”

He was grinning wildly, hands shoved into his pockets. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Really?” She raised a brow. “So you don’t always stand under that very doorframe every year just to get a mistletoe kiss?”

He looked up, feigning shock at the unmistakable plant dangling from the wood. “Mistletoe? I didn’t even notice it there.”

A laugh bubbled out of her, and she couldn’t help herself. She was drawn to him as always, feet pulling her towards him until she was close enough to wrap her arms around his waist, close enough to graze the corner of his mouth with her lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she murmured, blood rushing at the way his breath audibly caught in his throat, his hands pressing hard into her hips. “You’ll be scamming me into these mistletoe kisses until you’re old and wrinkly.”

A grunt sounded from deep in his throat when she pressed closer, still not meeting his lips. “If the implication is that you’ll be the one to kiss me under the mistletoe when I’m old and wrinkly then yes I damn will.”

When she finally let him catch her lips with his, it was like the world fell away. Big bursts of color flashed behind her closed eyelids as he kissed her, slow and searing, arms wrapping around her waist tightly until her feet were swept right off the ground when he straightened. She giggled into his mouth when he started walking towards the living room, her feet dangling helplessly until he finally put her down in front of the couch.

“Home Alone is on,” he said breathlessly, still stealing short kisses on any bits of skin he could find. “Wanna watch?”

She huffed on a laugh. “Are you sure we’ll just watch?”

At this, he laughed too, pulling away completely. “Dunno if I can make that promise, my darlin’,” he teased, sending her a wink before retrieving a basket that was hidden under the dining table. It was only now that Mona noticed he’d moved the coffee table, spreading a sheet in the space between the couch and TV.

“What’s all this?” she asked, taken by surprise.

Niall shrugged, placing the basket down on the sheet and sitting down, tugging on her hand to do the same. “Just…something.”

Inside the basket was a loaf of the homemade bread they’d made today—still a bit warm in its paper bag—cartons of butter and jellies, a thermos, and a platter of chocolate chip cookies. Apparently, he’d put it all together when no one was watching. Her heart surged with affection for all the thought he put into everything.

They lounged about, ripping pieces of bread and pairing it with butter or jelly, sipping on hot chocolate, which was what was in the thermos. They alternated between watching the movie and watching Etta and Fudge, Harlow’s cat, prod at each other. Etta just wanted to be a friend to Fudge, who was not having it, which was quite amusing.

By the time they finished the bread, they didn’t have much room for the cookies, so they split one as they curled into each other, lounging back against the couch, laughing along to the movie. “I love you,” she murmured to him eventually, pressing a kiss to his chin because she felt so full with emotion, so much that she felt like she might just burst. They were here, in the cabin, where it all began. So much was different. And everything was just right.

Which was why, in hindsight, she probably should have expected it. The circumstances were just right, everything falling into place perfectly. She should have expected it, but she didn’t.

Because when she placed a half-asleep Etta into her makeshift bed and turned around, Niall kneeling on one knee, hands outstretched, holding a ring box, was not a sight she saw coming. Her heart stopped for a moment, eyes widened in complete shock. He hadn’t even said anything yet and she already thought she might cry.

“Mona,” he started, clearly fighting back a slew of emotions himself, “Erm, I’ll be honest, I had a whole speech planned, but my brain has just gone completely blank.” They both laughed thickly. Mona stepped closer. “That happens sometimes anyway, when it comes to you. Sometimes you look at me and I forget my own name. In fact, the first time you smiled at me, I tripped on a branch. Remember?”

She nodded, unable to form words at the moment. She remembered. It was college orientation. She had hardly known that in a few months, she’d fall in love with this boy in a log cabin and her life would change forever.

Niall took a deep breath. “The point is, I am head over heels in love with you. Everything just makes sense with you, and I have never met anyone who is perfect for me in every single way.” An inadvertent sob left her lips, just as she noticed his voice wavering. “I want to spend forever with you, doing everything and nothing, though good days and bad days. I love you so fucking much. And it would be the greatest honor of my life to be your husband.” He smiled, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “So, what d’you say…will you marry me?”

Mona sobbed through her laughter, kneeling on the ground in front of him, caressing his face in her hands and swiping away the tears that managed to slip through his lashline. “Yes. Yes, I would love nothing more. Yes yes yes.” Niall laughed and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight and slipping the ring onto her finger at the same time. “I love you,” she cried into the curve of his shoulder, completely overwhelmed and yet completely at peace. All she wanted was to spend her whole life with her wonderful, beautiful sunshine boy.

It wasn’t until they both calmed down a bit that she got a good look at the ring. And even through her fuzzy eyesight, blurred by her tears, she recognized that opal stone, surrounded by tiny diamonds, as the one her mother wore for years. She had always admired it when she was a kid, always thought it was a timeless piece of jewelry.

She glanced up at him. “Is this…”

“Yeah.” He trailed a finger over the stone, holding her fingers delicately in his.

She was starting to cry again. “Mom gave it to you?”

He brushed away some of her hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. “Yeah. She said you like it, having something your dad picked out.”

Her eyes welled with tears as she hiccupped slightly in her surprise. Of course. Because along with being her mom’s, opal was also her dad’s birthstone. There was a piece of him inside of this ring and she now had the privilege of carrying it around forever. Niall thumbed away her tears and she looked at him, her heart fit to bursting as she wrapped her arms around him again, her movements so intense that he fell backwards against the sheet.

Their quiet laughter filled the room, and when she pulled back, his face was filled with such adoration, such reverence, that she found herself leaning forward to kiss him tenderly. His love spilled from his lips and into her soul. He filled her with sunshine and loved her unconditionally. Sweet, wonderful Niall. He was hers.

All hers.

~

Mona was flipping a pancake when Niall strolled into the kitchen, all soft smiles and sleepy eyes and messy bedroom hair. He huffed out a laugh at the sight of her, probably because of what she was wearing. His ugly Christmas sweater from the night before.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled, as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, fingers trailing on the hem of the sweater, grazing her skin underneath. “How does this look better on you than it ever did on me?”

She giggled at his words. She felt as though she were on cloud nine, woke up with a smile and couldn’t seem to shake it. Every so often, she’d catch a glimpse of the ring on her left hand and grin wildly to herself, sometimes wondering if she’d simply dreamt the whole night up.

But, no, she hadn’t. Because Niall was sidled up to her, chest pressed against her back as he pressed slow and hot kisses all the way up the side of her neck and down her jawline. “Good mornin’, fiancée,” he murmured, smiling wide against her skin.

She flipped her last pancake onto the platter and turned the skillet off, turning towards him to wrap her arms across his shoulders. “Good morning, future husband,” she replied, melting right into him as he kissed her slow and deep, goosebumps rippling across her skin at the words. It all felt a bit surreal.

He hummed, pressing her against the fridge, skimming his tongue along her lower lip. “I love the sound of that.”

They kept the news from their friends for a whole day. There was something fun and whimsical about it, going about their day doing mundane things with everyone, like eating breakfast or bringing Etta out into the snow for the first time, catching knowing looks from each other because no one else knew what had happened the night before. It was nice to be able to soak it all in, to enjoy it for themselves for a while, without anyone knowing.

Finally, on Christmas morning, as everyone lounged about on the couch, opening presents, they spilled. Niall was the one to announce it, telling everyone that they had news to share and pretending to be somber and melancholy. Harlow, Zayn, Liam, and Harry all froze hilariously when they caught the sudden shift in the mood, all of them sitting down and eyeing Niall and Mona carefully.

Harry was the one to ask what was wrong, and he looked so concerned that Mona couldn’t help the way the laughter just bubbled out of her. She looked at Niall, who’d started to laugh too, before holding up her left hand, the opal gem catching the light and glittering.

“We’re getting married!” they said simultaneously, and everyone was stunned into a few moments of silence before erupting into a deafening round of cheers. Harlow started crying as she hugged Mona tightly, and even the boys started tearing up a bit.

Perhaps it had been a long time coming. But it didn’t matter.

They were here now, endlessly overjoyed, popping open a bottle of champagne to celebrate.

They were here now, and they had the rest of their lives to go.

[drabbleoclock]

Everything Changes P.2

Part 1

Alright here is part 2! I'm really liking how this is turning out! I think after this chapter it will be a lot more of Ahsaki figuring herself out and trying to figure out where she fits in the world. Anyway, enjoy!

“Are you ready?” Aizawa called to the two trainee heroes that had been with him through so much. “We could run into anything in there. Be on guard.”

“Don’t you think I already know to be on guard!” Bakugou yelled from behind his teacher, earning a glare from the man before they rushed into the building where a group of villains were said to be hiding.

Instead of villains they found a large room with only one thing in it: A long glass tube running from the middle of the floor, to the ceiling. This in itself is peculiar enough, but the thing that made even the pro hero stop was the girl floating around the middle of the tube. Her hair floating delicately around her face, her body suspended feet above the ground.

She looked like an angel floating there, the lights shining through her blonde hair creating an almost halo-like effect. She looked so peaceful, like she was a child taking a nap, her mouth slightly open, her chest moving a fraction of an inch each time she breathed in.

Aizawa had no idea how the girl was breathing, the liquid suspending her should be pouring into her lungs, drowning her, but there she floated, peacefully resting.

Bakugou recognized the girl immediately, after all it had always been him imagining what the girl would look like now. How she would act and what she would sound like. He was moving before his brain could catch up, his hands popping with small explosions as he went.

“Bakugo stop, we have no idea what this is.” Eraserhead said, turning to the computer a few feet away from where he stopped.

“Screw you,” The blonde bit back, as he moved toward the glass that was entrapping the one he said he would always protect. Bakugou hardly registered his teacher's scarf wrapping around his body. All he wanted was to hold her, tell her it was alright now, to save her. Desperation wracked his body as he started to struggle against the scarf.

“Kacchan, we need to think about this.” Midoriya called softly to his childhood bully, ignoring his own feelings for the moment, only thinking about how hard this must be for the boy he had grown so close to over the past year.

“Think about what! About how she is just floating there! How long! How long has she been there!? How long has she needed saving!” Both Eraserhead and Deku froze, never hearing desperation like this come from the blonde.

Eraser was knocked back to earth when he felt the boy pull harder around his scarf, just as the girl opened her eyes. Eraser had to pull his attention away from the computer to concentrate on making sure Bakugou didn't do anything stupid. Aizawa wondered who the girl could be, who could make the blonde act so out of character.

Bakugou fought harder, more desperate now than he had ever thought he would be. He felt his heart quicken as she contorted her face in pain. He never wanted her to feel bad again, never wanted to see her like this.

“Bakugou the longer you struggle the longer it will take to get her out.” Eraser called from next to the computer where he was trying to figure out how to get her out safely and keep the boy from blowing everything up.

The pro silently let out a breath as the blonde fell to his knees, Deku coming up behind him. Eraser did not care about them so much right now, he just needed to get the girl out. He went to the computer, trying to figure out how to release the girl, but as soon as he touched it, sirens started to blare throughout the room.

“What’s happening? Turn it off, you’ll kill her!” Bakugou screamed, panic engulfing him for the first time in a long time as he struggled to untangle himself from the scarf he was restrained by moments ago.

Before any of the men could do anything, vines erupted from the ground, the walls, any crack they could squeeze themselves through, to get to the girl.

To save her.

They quieted the alarms, and wrapped themselves around the heroes in the blink of an eye.

Bakugou, true to his character, tried to blast his way out, only succeeding in getting them to wrap around his throat, cutting off his air supply. He struggled, tears falling down his cheeks for the girl he needed to save, before falling unconscious and being laid down gently on the bed of vines that trapped him.

***

Warmth.

That's what I felt when I gained consciousness again. An unfamiliar warmth that surrounded my hands. My eyes felt heavy as I tried to open them, with no success. I can hear faint breathing next to me.

I try to open my eyes again, fighting against the heaviness I feel holding my body down like a blanket.

“Ahsaki? Are you awake?” I hear the familiar voice say to the left of me. A sudden shift to my right makes me try to open my eyes again, or speak, or even just move. The only thing I’m able to do is make my fingers twitch, barely noticeable.

“Obviously not dumbass. I doubt she would be up this early. Are you stupid or something.” A rough, deep voice grumbles to my left, the heat around that hand increasing to an uncomfortable heat.

“Kacchan,-” the voice starts only to get cut off seconds later.

“Shut the hell up Deku. I’m not doing this with you.”

A sigh sounds to my left, and an unintelligible grumble comes from my right. I feel something soft hit my right hand. It feels like the cat I used to have when I was young.

Wait.

How do I remember that? Do I remember anything else?

My mind starts to race, trying to grab on to anything it could get its hands on.

Kacchan. The name is familiar in my mind. Why? Who is he?

The blonde boy. I don’t even realize my mind has made the connection at first. I’m not even sure if I’m right, but everything is telling me the blonde boy from the room, the one trying so desperately to get to me, is Kacchan. No, not Kacchan, that’s not his name. Katsuki. That’s it, but how do I know him? How does he know me? Why was he so desperate to save me? Why did I need saving?

My head gives a sharp stab of pain across my forehead making me wish I was still asleep. I feel the wetness of tears slipping through my closed eyes. Why I’m crying I'm not sure, but the boys next to me don’t seem to like it at all.

“What should we do?” A nervous voice pitches through the silence.

“How should I know? You’re the one that was good at comforting her!” There was silence for a few minutes before the gravelly voice of the blonde boy bit into the silence. “So comfort her dumbass!”

“R-Right!”

I feel the tears being wiped from my cheeks, and a hand goes to the top of my head, flattening my hair as he moves slowly and rhythmically. My breathing slowly steadies and the pain in my head suddenly doesn’t seem so bad. A slow tune floats into my ears as one of the boys begins to hum a familiar song.

My body suddenly seems to have all the energy it needs. I can feel myself waking up, really waking up, for the first time in what feels like forever.

I open my eyes slowly, blinded by the lights overhead, a white hot pain searing my head as I look up into the light. I bring my hands to my eyes, grimacing in pain.

“The lights Kacchan”

The world darkens around me as my hands are slowly brought back down to my sides by the green haired boy from before.

“Hey Ahsaki, do you remember me? From before?” He asks softly with a bright smile on his face, but still a sadness hidden behind it. I nod, really looking at the boy in front of me, trying to remember anything I can about him. It’s not much, I don’t remember anything about him before I saw him in that room, and now even that is fuzzy and teetering on the edges of my memory.

More pain erupts in my head as I curl up, a few stray tears falling down my cheeks. The boy, ‘Deku’, mutters comforting words as he pats my head again, trying to ease my pain.

“I’ll go get a doctor,” Katsuki said, his footsteps already receding out of the room.

Moments later a team of doctors came in ushering the boys from the room, saying they needed to check my vitals. The boys leave with little complaint, promising to be back as soon as they were allowed. Well, Deku said this, Kastuski just stood looking anywhere but in my direction.

The doctors were hasty about checking me over, grabbing my arms and putting things around them, flashing lights in my eyes, and putting a cold stethoscope to my chest.

After deciding I was physically fine the black haired man from before came into the room, his hands delicately holding a yellow folder.

“Hello, I’m glad to see you are doing well.” He says, his voice low and monotone. Not at all like Katsuki’s which was low and gravelly but always full of passion. “My name is Shota Aizawa, I’m here to do a risk assessment for the police. I’ll ask you a few questions, then we will see about letting those boys back in. How does that sound?”

I only nod in response.

“Great. What’s your name?”

“Ahsaki.”

“Last name?”

I stay silent, searching my mind but, as always, coming back empty handed. The pain must have shown on my face because Aizawa’s face softens as he asks his next question.

“Do you remember anything?”

I sat for a moment trying to collect my thoughts, there weren't many but there were some.

“Not anything solid. It’s mostly feelings. I know I knew those two boys, but I don’t remember how. And I know I used to have a cat, he was black and his fur was really soft, but nothing else.” I say, instantly regretting saying anything about the cat. It was a dumb detail that didn’t matter to the man before me, but it felt important.

I push back the tears that are making my vision blurry, wanting to hide from the man. Wanting more than anything for the boys to come back into the room. For Deku to run his fingers through my hair and hum to me again. My breathing picks up slightly as the man looks at me.

“Alright, well then the rest of my questions are pretty much useless. How about I tell you what I can about you.” He opens the folder in his hands taking the seat to my right. “You are the sister of Bakugou Katsuki, the angry one,” Angry one? I know he must be talking about the blonde boy but I don’t know if angry is the word I would use to describe him. “Your mother’s name is Mitsuki, and your father’s name is Masaru,” He hands me a family portrait of a woman with spiky blonde hair, the same color as mine, a softer looking man with brown hair, a younger version of the boy I knew to be Katsuki, and a young girl with blonde hair and red eyes and a smile burning so bright it made the rest of them smile too. I suppose this must be me. “You lived near the Shizuoka Prefecture, from what I can gather, you were close friends with Midoriya as well as Bakugou.” Midoriya, that’s the other boy, the name sounds unfamiliar in my head, like it could have been the name of anyone on the planet instead of someone that was supposed to be a good friend. Then all at once, memories started to trickle in. Not really memories, but snippets of them. I remember a sunset, sitting on a wall, my small heels kicking against it as I sat bored, a smile as a boy talked, gushed really, about a hero. A shot of the now familiar pain shoots through my head as the memories appear in my mind's eye but I don't mind this time, at least now I have something.

“Izuku” I say softly. “That’s his name right? Izuku?” I look up to the man with a small smile on both our faces. He nods continuing.

“About four years ago, you were at a park, do you remember?”

A park? No not a park, the park, the one near our house, the one with the creek.

“I remember a park, but I… I don’t remember.” I mumble, furrowing my eyebrows and trying to cling to the fading memory of swings.

“Four years ago, you were at that park and a man approached you. Apparently, Bakugou tried to fight him off, but you were taken. Do you remember anything after that?” He asked gently, handing me another picture.

Before I could concentrate on it yet another flash of pain made me shut my eyes against the light, the picture fluttering to the floor. The man was on his feet before my eyes were even shut all the way, pushing me back against the pillows on my bed.

“It’s alright, that’s enough for now. Do you want me to let visitors in?”

I just shut my eyes tighter, everything suddenly seemed too loud. The chatter of people in the hallway, the buzz of the lights overhead, the constant beep of the machine reading my heartrate, the constant tick of the clock on the wall. I start to panic as the beeping gets faster, not sure why it's affecting me so much. My brain is calm but my body is in panic mode at some unknown danger.

“I need you to try and take some deep breaths.” I can hear the man’s voice, now laced with worry, but it seems far away and muffled, not letting the words register in my mind. My breathing quickens as I put my hands over my ears, gripping them tightly, trying to block out any noise. In the distance I hear someone scream, making me panic even more.

I can’t even register why I’m freaking out, it's like it's the only thing my body will allow me to do. I try to control my breathing like the man suggested but it only makes me hiccup and choke over tears I didn’t even know were falling.

“Ahsaki! Please, you have to stop!” That voice, Izuku, the boy flashed through my mind, him sitting next to me on the wall, him and Katsuki in the creek, him petting my hair less than a hour ago. The memory seems to calm me enough to take a few deep breaths.

As soon as I exhaled a pair of arms were around me, forcing me into a sort of awkward side hug. I'm not sure who it was, but my eyes were suddenly open again, my breathing slowed and my hands were gently pulled from my ears.

“It’s alright kid, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you all right. So just relax and trust me!” I heard the now familiar, now comforting, voice of Katsuki. He pulls my hands down from my ears, settling them in my lap, and setting a warm hand on the top of my head.

I sit stunned, looking around the room. What was once a pristine hospital room, now looked like an overgrown greenhouse. Vines lined the walls and a variety of colorful flowers littered the room, petals falling from the overgrowth.

My eyes widen as my gaze falls to where Aizawa stood, now he is surrounded by vines up to his neck, Izuku not far from the door, vines rooting him to the spot.

“I-” I start but don’t know what to say. “Was that me?”

Katsuki’s grip on me tightened as Aizawa gave me an intense stare.

“Leave her alone, old man! She obviously didn’t mean too!” I now understood why Aizawa called him ‘the angry one’, you could feel the anger coming off of him as he stared down the man, daring him to try anything.

“Undo it.” The man commanded, a totally different tone to the gentle one he used before. I sit up a little straighter, taking a few shaky breaths, trying to will the plants back but nothing happens.

I close my eyes, trying not to feel the stares of Aizawa and Izuku. I try again only to have pain shoot up the back of my neck, spreading across my head.

“It’s alright Ah-san, if it hurts stop. They can figure out another way to get out.” Kacchan says, daring one of the others to oppose him.

“It’s my fault, I have to try again.” I say, hating myself as more tears well in my eyes, both from pain and embarrassment.

“You obviously can’t control it, it’s alright, we're fine.” Izuku’s voice brings me back from my self-deprecating pit. I look up to see him with a big smile, as always, but there is a light behind his eyes. There is no longer that deep sadness hiding behind them.

“Listen to the idiot and just try and relax.” Katsuki commands from next to me, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling me back into his side. I let myself relax into him, closing my eyes and trying to forget the look of fear and anger Aizawa gave me moments ago.

A soft rustling enters my ears and I open my eyes to see Aizawa and Izuku both free from their plant prisons. Aizawa locks eyes with me, sighs, and walks out the door without another word.

“Sorry” I mutter, looking down at my hands.

“Don’t worry about it! Seriously, look at me, I'm fine. And obviously Aizawa Sensei is fine too, so really no harm done. And look at how cool this is! You have a really amazing quirk now. I remember when we were kids and you could only make little flowers and we would see how many we could stick in Kacchan’s hair before he tried to beat us up.” Izuku burst out, laughing at the memory. I smile at him wishing with everything that I could get just a glimpse of the childhood he was talking about.

“You two were really freaking annoying.” Katsuki grunts from beside me on the bed. I give a small chuckle and put my head against his shoulder, letting my eyes close. Taking in the peaceful quiet around me. The vines seemed to have covered everything that was bothering me before, the lights were partially covered, dimming the room, the clock and heart rate machine completely encased in vines, making them silent. The only thing that was still loud was the commotion I caused in the hallway, doctors and nurses starting to chip away at the vines trailing into the hallway, but that was manageable now. It seemed like anything was manageable with these two around me.

I look at my side and grab a small orange flower, placing it delicately into the blonde’s hair.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He asked, venom lacing his voice. Somehow I knew this was not the same kind of anger from before, with Aizawa, it was… nicer. It confused me, I knew he meant nothing malicious by the words or his tone, but I’m not sure how I knew.

“I think it looks pretty.” I mutter looking up at the boy, letting my eyes close again as he placed a red flower behind my ear, pinning my hair there. I smile, letting unconsciousness wash over me.

[aminiatureworld]

A Light in the Storm

Ship: Geralt x Jaskier

Warnings: Panic attacks, passing out

Premise: Jaskier, having just joined Geralt, is excited for new adventures. Unfortunately for him panic strikes at an inopportune moment, and his adventure, not to mention his relationship with the Witcher, is thrown into question.

Author’s Note: The ending might be a bit brusque, but I thought that going on would be a bit irrelevant to the core of the story, as well as to the development of the characters. I might release the rest of it as an epilogue, tell me if you'd like that!

If you want to know the true story this is based off, as well as if you wish to read my thanks to those who've read my most recent fanfiction before this, please read the endnote. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

Ao3 link in reblog

          If Jaskier had to decide the worst part of losing mobility in basically one’s entire body, being unable to even sit properly, much less climb or move about, was probably the worst bit of it. Lying down, hissing in pain as he propped up his elbow in a way that hurt less, because a baseline of pain was a given at this point, Jaskier lay his head back upon the pillows and wondered where it all went wrong. Not that he didn’t know, he knew the exact moment everything went wrong, and it was the first time he’d ever seen something get struck by lightning.

           He’d been about twelve at the time, and it’d been an offshoot building for one of his parents’ manors. Lightning had struck the wooden roof, and the fire torched the whole thing to ground, as well as a wing of the greater manor and about half of the gardens. The whole family as well as the servants had run outside in a panic, and it was hours before the blaze had been put out. The memory had seared into Jaskier’ss brain, as had the unfortunate side effect of panic attacks which, in the worst cases, resulted in him passing out.

           Of course such a handicap at least had the benefit of being easy enough to hide. The odd thunderstorm, though it set his heart and mind racing, usually didn’t result in something as drastic as fainting, most panic attacks didn’t. So when he’d set off with his new witcher friend, or whatever Geralt was calling them, Jaskier didn’t consider the possibility that one such attack might surface. Besides, he wasn’t a teenager anymore, surely he’d grown out of it! Unfortunately for Jaskier, hubris is not, in fact, stronger than fear.

           They’d been up in the mountains when the troubles really started. The first flashes of lightning had set the hairs on Jaskier’s neck straight up, but counting it the storm seemed a good thirty miles away, and surely it would all be okay. His tentative optimism had been destroyed pretty quickly however, and when Jaskier saw a flash of lightning, willowy and branching like an infernal tree, he knew that it was a matter of time before the panic caught up with him. “Geralt…” he called out to his companion.

           “Hmm?” Came the familiar reply. Normally Jaskier thought the Witcher’s reticence to speak was vaguely hilarious, and definitely adorable, but in that moment he felt sure that, had he also been on horse, Geralt would’ve been two seconds away from getting strangled. Gritting his teeth and attempting to keep his tone light, Jaskier pressed on.

           “I think we ought to find shelter, wait for the storm to ride itself out. The thunder must be unpleasant to witchers, no?” He looked at Geralt, who was glancing towards the storm, the storm whose growing strength seemed directly congruent to Jaskier’s panic, and silently pleaded that he’d said something of some sense, that he might be able to save his pride before he lost it forever.

           “It’s far enough, it won’t bother us. Besides,” Geralt glanced back at Jaskier, a vague smirk painted on his face, “Roach and I have both seen and heard much worse.”

           “Of course you have.” Jaskier muttered to himself, realizing that the possibility of a simple escape was simply not going to happen, and wondering if he could just willpower himself out of the situation. Surely he could tell his brain to just… not? Continuing on the mountainous trek, and flinching every time he say a flash of lightning out of the corner of his eye, Jaskier almost thought that he might be able to make it, for they were about to turn away from the highest cliffs, and thus the unobstructed view of the storm, when another flash of lightning, this one seeming must closer, hit a group of trees, which promptly burst into flames.

           “Geralt…” Jaskier gasped out, for the familiar feeling of heat was rushing to his head and the world was beginning both to fizz out of his vision, seeming mosre and more like he’d been dunked underwater.

           “Jaskier?” Geralt shifted in his saddle. Jaskier stumbled forward, almost losing his footing, his knees seeming to go out beneath him.

           “Alcohol-” He managed to make it that far before some unseen obstacle hit the tip of his boots, and, listing slightly to the side, his eyes closed and he was enveloped by heat.

           Jaskier came to, feeling quite groggy, lying on his back, his arms bent around his head. He immediately felt the return of the hot, floating feeling, and closed his eyes, waiting for the cool, open air to come back to him; only then would he be safe. Attempting to sit up after the first few cooling moments, Jaskier found he could barely do such a thing before immediately having to bend over again, as everything around him swam.

           “Jaskier!” The voice came to him belatedly. Too weak and unsure to look up Jaskier gave a short “uhm” back, assuring Geralt that Jaskier was, indeed, alive. A wineskin was shoved into his face, the pungent smell snapping a bit of the heat and static back, and Jaskier grabbed onto it, drinking deeply, despite the taste being, charitably, something akin to piss. He gasped for air after a few seconds, the confusion slowly wearing off, but the adrenaline still too prominent for him to care much about his situation, at least care any farther than the battle to keep awake, for he’d truly failed to fight it off the first time.

           “How long.” He croaked out at last, still staring down, his head in his arms. He was vaguely beginning to register the stinging pain, which surrounded his left elbow, right knee, right shoulder, and various parts of his hands.

           “Five minutes or so, eight maximum.” Jaskier sighed, but he was grateful that the man hadn’t simply rode off, leaving the poor bard to, well, Jaskier wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even sure what to do now, unwilling to ask how much damage this whole thing was going to do to his new relationship with his companion. For, as he was quickly becoming aware, Jaskier had just presented a most embarrassing scene, and, almost in preparation for Geralt’s inevitable scorn, embers of resentment began to flicker.

           “Sorry I inconvenienced you like this.” He knew his tone probably sounded like a whining old man, or perhaps a wchild who’d shouted for a bit too long, but everything was beginning to hurt a lot more, and Jaskier could barely find the energy to raise his head up, much less deal with such complicated things as the breakdown of a barely started acquaintance. “I’ll be fine now.” He gingerly stood up, but the panic attack was gone, as suddenly as it’d arrived, and Jaskier found that he felt perfectly fine. Ignoring Geralt’s questions and gruff assurances that they could wait, accepting only to ride on Roach for some time, Jaskier quickly had them setting off again, wanting nothing at the moment but to find someplace where he could sleep for twelve hours, and dreading nothing but what would inevitably happen after that.

           When a town had finally been found and they’d arrived at the stables, Jaskier realized that maybe he should’ve just walked. Bending his knee hurt like hell, but it was the slightest movement of his left arm that had his nerves screaming in pain. Stiffly swinging his right leg over, Jaskier fell out of the saddle, and probably would’ve hit the ground, if Geralt weren’t there to catch him.

           “You need to get a doctor.” Geralt’s voice seemed even gruffer than usual, and Jaskier fought the urge to roll his eyes.

           “What I need first and foremost is a bath, and to rebandage everything again, do you witchers not use regular herbs to fight infection? Or is it a liquid diet for you all.” Lifting himself up Jaskier gave a short “thank you” to Geralt, before walking off, or attempting to at least, his pathetic hobbling goin the speed of about 0.005 miles per hour. His pride was smarting, now that the danger of a relapse was next to none, and the stares of the townspeople hardly helped one bit. Scowling, Jaskier stared at the slight step that one needed to cross to get into the inn, but before he could screw up his courage to get his leg up he was suddenly hauled up off the ground, and straight into Geralt’s arms.

           “You need a doctor.” The Witcher reiterated, and this time Jaskier said nothing, silently admitting that Geralt did have a point, even if it was one that the bard would rather not admit. His arms both flaring, not to mention his dangling knee, every step Geralt took had Jaskier swearing in pain, and slightly worried that he tumble out of the other man’s arms. Thankfully Geralt seemed an expert in carrying wounded people, and even managed to grasp under Jaskier’s arm, to his great relief. Ignoring the stares, it wasn’t every day a quiet village saw a man with silver hair carrying another man who looked like he’d just gotten the shit beat out of him, Jaskier closed his eyes, and silently wondered how fast the Witcher was going to drop him once the danger had passed.

           The apothecary, for there were no real doctors in a place like this, made quick work, and even quicker examination of the bard, and soon Jaskier was given his promised bath, before being shuffled into a rough bed, pillows propping up his leg, left arm, and head. His hands had also been bandaged, the apothecary having asked what kind of cat Jaskier had gotten mixed up with after seeing the cuts in his fingers. It would be a while before he’d be back on his lute. It was that, more than anything else, which frustrated Jaskier, for even after his hands healed there was still the matter of his elbow, having been dislocated and badly bruised, which resulted in most movements, even bending, being impossible before and now, the apothecary having set the bones back into place, incredibly painful. Music was everything to Jaskier, and the thought of how much time he’d have to spend away from it put him in the blackest of moods.

           There was another thing that kept Jaskier from drifting off to sleep, no matter how much his body screamed at him to rest. That, of course, was the matter of Geralt. So far the Witcher hadn’t said much. He’d listened to the apothecary’s orders as to how Jaskier was to rest, before silently carrying him back to the inn, his only words being to the man behind the bar, asking for a room and hot water. After helping Jaskier strip and bathe, something the bard would never stop feeling embarrassed about, Geralt put Jaskier to bed, before walking out the door without another word. Nothing more than half an hour could’ve actually passed since then, but to Jaskier the minutes felt like hours, and enough time had passed for him to live out a variety of scenarios on how Geralt’s leaving was going to go. Jaskier at least hoped that Geralt would tell him, rather than perhaps just ditching him to ride off in search of less pathetic companions.

           Eventually Jaskier must’ve fallen asleep, for after what seemed merely like a blink of the eye the world had suddenly turned to night, and Geralt was back, with a wide variety of supplies, which crowded the table in the room. The Witcher himself was staring down at Jaskier, who attempted a small smile, one that the Witcher didn’t mirror. He looked as stone faced as ever, but he was back, and that had to count for something, right?

           “Geralt-” Jaskier began, but the Witcher shook his head, before walking over to the table and picking up something.

           “Poultice, for the cuts on your hand. It’ll bring the swelling down, and hopefully prevent infection.” He reached out his free hand, and Jaskier tentatively placed his own hand in Geralt’s palm. Unwrapping the bandages, Geralt spread out the slightly warm onto the bard’s palm, and Jaskier sighed, for despite the heat it did indeed seem to be drawing out the pain.

           “Glad you know something of herbs.” He looked to Geralt, who smirked slightly.

           “We witchers don’t solely rely on, what did you call it, a liquid diet?”

           “Well thank the gods for that!” Jaskier exclaimed emphatically, before growing serious, for if they had to part, he’d rather it’d be on his own terms. “You don’t have to stay with me Geralt. Thank you for bringing me here, for your help with the innkeeper and the herbs, and stripping me down to my braies…” he paused, hoping that his face wasn’t as red as it felt, or at least that Geralt wouldn’t take much notice of it, “but I can take care of myself now. I know you weren’t thrilled to have my company in the beginning, and that a witcher can’t very well take on a companion liable to faint at every passing storm. I cannot blame you if you leave, but I’d like you to at least give me notice, that way I’ll not expect you back.” Realizing he’d been speaking so quickly he’d forgotten to breathe Jaskier choked out the last words before a long intake of breath, followed by a sigh. He looked at the Witcher, who was staring back, brows furrowed slightly.

           “I’m not leaving you.” The words were short and brusque, and Jaskier was beginning to feel irritated. Why was the man making this harder than it already was? The last thing Jaskier needed was pity nannying.  

           “Damn it Geralt I’m bruised, not paralyzed. I’ll be perfectly fine in a day or two, and good as new in a few weeks!” Pulling his hand out of the Witcher’s his elbow grazed the mattress, and Jaskier let out a hiss of pain. Rearranging himself, Jaskier then turned back to his companion, who now was most certainly annoyed, as was evident from the frown contorting his face.

           “Last I checked perfectly fine people aren’t hurt by pillows. I’m not leaving, and that’s final.”

           “You say that now, but what about when I’m better, huh Geralt? You really expect me to think that you won’t leave the minute I can walk? There’s no point in pretending otherwise, so stop trying to act like your plans for staying go past a week!” Jaskier felt he’d probably said too much, but he’d already collapsed in front of Geralt. Whatever dignity he’d had in regards to the Witcher had definitely disappeared the moment he’d required reviving after a thunderstorm.

           “Do you think so little of me and my kind as that?” Geralt’s tone was gruff again, half incoherent by hurt, gravelly and low. “I’m going to abandon you in the middle of fucking nowhere. And I’m not going to listen to you throw accusations at me. If you want me to leave I will, but I’m not going to act out your twisted scenarios to save your pride.”

           “This has nothing to do with pride!” Jaskier burst out, though he wasn’t being entirely true, for indeed there was a part of him that smarted at the idea of Geralt knowing about how badly he reacted to storms, that resented the idea of adventures being thwarted by a single incident such as this. Geralt was evidently as unconvinced as Jaskier, and simply raised an eye. s

           Trying to find better words Jaskier sighed. His head was pounding by now, and he wanted to do nothing more than go back to sleep, for starting this conversation now seemed like a horrible idea. “I want to keep traveling with you,” he restarted, “but I don’t want either you or myself hampered by this. I joined you because you smelt of adventure, remember? I’m not about to be coddled, or for you to keep me out of pity while you secretly resent my presence. Or for you to leave me in town every time you go out. If I wanted that I would’ve stayed home.”

           “I won’t do that.” Geralt replied. “And I wouldn’t give up the Path for your fear of storms. But I also won’t simply leave you. I won’t coddle you, and I won’t abandon you. Happy?”

           “And if there’s another storm?”

           “Then I’ll load you up on liquor. Isn’t that what you were asking for before you fell?”

           “It does help.” Jaskier admitted. “But are you sure you’d be willing to jump through all those hoops? I don’t want you to resent me.”

           “I am. And I won’t.” The answers were as simple as the assurance he wasn’t going to leave, but this time Jaskier felt slightly hopeful, not to mention wildly lucky and a bit in disbelief.

           “Why?” He ventured, for he had to know, had no illusions that Geralt was the kind of man who would do this to anyone in need. Not the same man who decked Jaskier in the stomach the first time they met.

           “Because I want to.” Geralt replied, before turning towards the table, a sign that the real answer wasn’t going to be revealed anytime soon. Content with that Jaskier let his head loll back on the pillows and once again drifted off to sleep.

End note: Two days ago I passed out in a parking lot after getting vaccinated (get your shots y'all I've passed out before but am still up to date) and decided hey when life gives you lemons! Due to the unfortunate state of medicine in the Witcher universe I changed shots to lightning. Coincidentally earlier this summer a transformer (the electricity kind) was struck by lightning and two garages and a house burned down on my block. Write what you know, amiright?

My deepest thanks to the 10 people who liked/reblogged my last fanfiction. I realize it was a bit of an incoherent music rant, so I'm so glad that at least some people found it enjoyable. You guys are the best!

[snarwor]

moon and old stars - chapter 4

edited because i CAN be arsed apparently

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

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

It was a setup.

Fennec had picked up a coded Imperial signal that mentioned a location and the blood-chilling phrase “terminal location of the asset.”

They managed to splice a little into the feed before they moved out of back-range, but they had something they didn’t before, and in the moment of panicked uncertainty, the four agreed to steer Slave I there.

It was a moon of Lothal, and mostly made up of vast colonies of feral Loth-cats. The tourism industry on Lothal had been branching out to the creepy little fuckers, but Din seemed to like them, carefully side-stepping tails and paws and not-so-subtly petting one when he “dropped something” while passing by. Cara and Fennec said nothing, and Fett just kept watch while Din allowed himself this.

When they’d come out of hyperspace and woken from their nap, Din had been shy. Fett had expected this, but didn’t fault him. Din had a few questions, just to clarify things, spoken in a raspy voice that meant he hadn’t recovered entirely from blowing Fett just a few hours prior. He was calm after the questions were answered, and no longer felt on the back foot.

The moment he had his beskar back on, Din had said, “Don’t you dare try to drag me by my helmet again.”

Fett laughed, loud and amused. “Don’t give me a reason to, then.”

Okay, that was fair.

When they cut through a dense forest to the Imperial facility they located on the trackers, something uneasy crept into Din’s gut. He was sure the others felt it too, though none of them spoke in the dense silence, no one wanting to put a name to the dark feeling.

The facility looked well-disguised. There were no patrols skulking around, all the ships looked like they’d been deserted after the Empire fell, it was a ghost town.

Cara took a step toward the fence line.

Din noticed it through a thermal sensor - a tripwire. “No!” He shouted, surging forward to pull Cara back. She stumbled, caught off guard, and Din’s center of gravity wobbled on one foot before he fell backwards.

Instantly, he was swept up in to the trees in a net of wire, connected at the cross-points by small discs. He thrashed against the trap, while the others below shouted for him. He grunted and tried to get at his knife, something to pull him free, cut an opening, anything. The others were saying something but his pounding heart was too loud in his ears for him to understand.

The only thing he could understand was that this had been a trap. The kid was still out there, and they were chasing smoke. He was never going to get his kid back, never going to hold him or make him laugh. It made his thrashing that much more frantic.

And then the beskar gauntlet clicked against one of the discs.

Electric shocks, powerful and terrible, met between the plates of beskar. This trap had been laid for him. He heard himself screaming at the top of his lungs, his helmet connecting with one of the discs and doubling—no, tripling the pain. He felt his muscles spasm down his neck, shoulders, spine. He thought he could feel it arc between his fingertips. The display on his helmet was fried, all he could see was just that terrible blue light and the tunneling darkness with it.

Then.

There was green.

And Din was falling.

Idly, he felt himself caught, but the rest of his limbs were still lightly sparking and twitching. He’d at least stopped screaming, but the blood gushing down his chin told him he must have bitten some part of his mouth - his cheeks, his lips, his tongue. It was true that the body didn’t remember pain, and Din felt this, and the weight of his failure, in its entirety.

Whoever it was that carried him through the air set him on the forest floor some space away. The plates of beskar were ripped from him, releasing him from any remnant static. Footsteps approached, running. His rescuer barked, “TURN AWAY,” before Din’s helmet was pulled off.

Even the dimmed light through the boughs was too bright, and Din closed his eyes to it. “I know, I know, where’s it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” Din sobbed out, hands clenching and unclenching to distract himself. His breath was coming in fast, shallow pants, and he knew he’d pass out if he didn’t stop.

Warm, calloused hands touched his face, wiped away blood from his ears and nose and mouth, tugged his lips and mouth open to look inside. Fingers walked over his body, just a little too rough, poking where he was hurt.

It was like his soft and secret fantasy had been poisoned and laid bare at his feet to die. Din couldn’t help the sob that came to his throat. “Shh, shh, I’ve got you. Gotta get you back to the ship. Here.”

“Helmet…” Din moaned as he was picked up again, arms behind his back and under his knees. 

“Shorted out, still sparking. We’ll sort it out. Gotta get you checked.” His head was hidden carefully by the frayed fabric of Din’s cape. The reduction in light and the familiar weave over his face calmed him greatly, and he heard the sound of beskar being stacked on itself. “Don’t you forget a single piece,” his rescuer said, not to Din but to the others there. “I’m flying on ahead. When you get in, get us off of this kriffing planet as fast as possible.”

He was barely finished speaking before he was back up in the air, the lift of the jet pack just a little whiny at the extra weight. Din clutched at what he could with his useless, spasming arms, and tried steadying his breathing.

“Almost there, jat’ika.”

Oh.

Oh.

Boba Fett had saved his life. Again. And he was calling him things in Mando’a. Again. Emotions surged through Din’s blood like the shocks had before, but there was nowhere to ground his feelings to. He pressed his face to the chest plate, and just held on. They landed in a run, Fett rushing up the entrance to get Din laid out somewhere for triage.

The familiar shape of Fett’s berthing came into Din’s bleary view. Fett had a whole medbay onboard, why not there? The answer came to him as Fett tore the rest of Din’s armor off, including the cape.

Din lay bare on the sheets, burns from the edges of the beskar plates seared through his clothes and into his skin. He wouldn’t be able to stay in the medbay if Cara and Fennec were coming; Din didn’t know if he cared.

He had failed the kid, again. First at that stupid temple, and again here, not seeing the forest for the traps. How many more times could he fuck this whole thing up before the kid was lost to him forever? In the few seconds between Fett setting him down in bed and when he’d returned to bring what looked like half the medbay, Din had broken.

He’d been alone in his entire fucking life. He’d been chasing ghosts of affection wherever he could since becoming a foundling, and the kid was the first real right thing he had in his life. Due to his own stupid incompetence, he’d lost that one good thing, that he’d been trusted with. Clan of two. The kid didn’t deserve that.

The kid didn’t deserve Din.

“Hey, hey hey hey. What’d I miss.” Fett sealed the door, confident he’d grabbed enough supplies and that the others would do as told. He came onto the bed with Din, hovering over him, still in all his armor and weaponry, Din helpless as he’s never been.

Din could only shake his head and shudder through his tears. He didn’t see Fett’s face tighten in sadness, but he felt a cool sting of bacta spray along his arm, over his chest, his thigh. His fingertips were an angry purple, so Fett took his time there. “Gotta jab you.”

Din made no protest, but gasped sharply when his body was turned over. A hypo pressed into the meat of his shoulder, and the bacta spread an unnatural numbness to the abused muscle. More bacta and burn patches were applied to his back before he was turned over again. He was still a bit bleary from the pain, what it’d taken out of him.

Fett patched him up good, efficient and thorough as he would’ve been on himself. There was no use in denying injury, to him. He only had one of himself, despite there being hundreds of thousands of himself in the past, technically. He couldn’t get that legendary status as the Boba Fett without learning to be self-sufficient, either. Din was rolled onto his back, eyes still glazed over in pain.

This, Fett knew, could not be fixed by a bacta hypo. His heart lurched when the ship started to move, but remembered it was just Fennec and Cara. “How many systems we putting between here and ourselves?” A voice crackled through the intercom.

“Got a safehouse in the Hosnian system,” Fett said into the receiver.

“For real? You in the Core Worlds?”

“It’s not uncommon. Tell the ship to go to Point 4B.”

“How’s Mando?” Cara’s voice.

“Some burns. Might be a bit. We have what we need.” Din met Fett’s eyes at that. “You two handle yourselves.”

“Always do.” The comm cut off, and Fett locked its volume down. Din watched him with a wary look. He was completely bare while Fett was still mostly covered, but with the bacta in his blood, the boiling sensation receding from his brain, and the heartbreak still clear as day, Din couldn’t care.

Fett still stripped off his armor methodically, and didn’t speak. When he was down to a pair of skin-layers, he came up on the bed with a few more supplies. “You’re a biter,” he said, putting Din’s head in his lap. Din told himself he didn’t deserve to enjoy it, but from the first gentle touch of the damp cloth to the drying blood on his face, he melted.

“I don’t try to be,” Din said. A cut (bite) on his lip got some balm, and the bridge of his nose where it’d jammed against the fizzling beskar helmet.

A hand pet through his hair. He was sure it looked absolutely crazy, what with being electrocuted and the general insanity it already was. Din almost shook it off.

“Almost done, then you can rest.”

“Gotta find the kid,” Din said. “Can’t be caught off-guard like that again.” He tried to sit, but a firm hand at his neck, ready to pinch that bundle of nerves every Mandalorian knew about, made him freeze, and his breath with it.

“You are going to rest.” It was slowly-said and serious, and Din felt heady just from the order.

“But I failed.”

“We all failed. You’re just the one who had to pay for it. Jat’ika,” Fett said, and Din shivered. “Let me take care of you.”

Din turned his face, pressing it into Fett’s thigh again. Would be he able to relax? Allow this distraction? No, what was it Fett had called it?

A solution.

“Just til I’m better?”

“We’ll cross that bridge later.”

It was still a very long time before Din spoke, though Fett knew every moment was spent turning over the thoughts in his head like it was an old stone on a riverbank. Over and over, finding the best angle out of all the others.

“Okay,” Din whispered. “Okay, daddy.” Those fingers surged back into his hair, and may as well have been digging into his heart and soul. Din whimpered, and tried to relax his body some. “What do you want me to do?”

Fett stilled a little, thinking. They couldn’t get up to much physical activity, unfortunately, but Fett knew if he played his cards right, his boy wouldn’t be so wound up by the time he recovered. Maybe he’d be wound up in a different way. 

And then they’d have some real fun.

“I don’t want you to leave this room. Better yet, this bed. If you need something you ask. If you want something you ask. Are you cold?” It had been raining on the Lothal moon.

Din almost shook his head no, but reconsidered, focusing on his body instead of his failures and shame. He was cold.

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you come up here with me, then. I can warm you up better than a blanket can.” Fett helped him into the position he wanted, curled on his side and facing Fett. He was right, of course. The warmth bled into his bones almost instantly, one of Fett’s hands stroking up and down his back while the other stayed in his hair. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Din breathed. This close, he could feel the rumble of his voice through his chest. “Yes, daddy.”

Fett gave an amused huff and leaned down, pressing a kiss to Din’s forehead. At the sharp inhale he gave, Fett would have assumed he had touched on a wound Din hadn’t disclosed, but the arch in his spine and the rapid pulse against his thumb told Fett all he needed to know.

“You like when daddy gives you kisses?” Fett asked, voice dropping low.

Din’s wide eyes met his from below, full of emotion and curiosity. He gave a small nod.

“Have you ever been kissed before?”

A blush. A shake of the head.

“Do you want to be kissed? You have quite the pretty mouth for it.”

A deeper blush. Din hid in the crook of Fett’s neck for a bit while he continued to stroke his back.

Then, a voice.

“Yes, please.”

Fett wasted no time, moving his head out from his hiding spot and kissing from his forehead to his temples to his cheeks, to the tip of his nose, which made Din actually giggle and grin a bit. It was a beautiful sound, and a beautiful smile, two things Fett didn’t think he could go another second without indulging.

The kiss was soft and not as deep as Fett would have liked, but it made Din whimper into his mouth all the same, soft and hungry for more. Fett kept kissing him, over and over until he got the hang of it. We’re they standing, Din would have swooned, knees buckled like a newborn foal.

“There we are,” Fett said, pulling away with reluctance. Din was kind of wrecked, honestly. Fett’s hands had done a number on his hair, and he must have been extremely thorough in his job, because Din’s lips were swollen into a beautiful pout. “Did you like that, jat’ika?”

Din’s eyes fluttered shut at the name. Fett already knew how much Din liked it, but there was something else to be said about the little thrill he got when Din said, “Yes, daddy, I did.”

No, Din wasn’t going to leave this bed for awhile yet.

Read on AO3. | Part 5

[xiubaek-13]

Let Me In - Part 2

Prompt: “If I knock politely will you let me in? I’ll make it worth your while”

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Word Count: 4,950

Warnings: Vampire AU, smut, blood, mentions of death, murder & torture.

A/N: Part 1 was in my Halloween drabbles from a long ass time ago. I continuously got requests for a second part so it finally came into being today. Let me know what you think, comments help me greatly given the large breaks between posting for me, they help me work out if I’m still any good at this writing business.

“S-so, a-are you g-gonna k-kill me?” You stutter out, your fear making it hard for you to get the words out.

He smirks and steps back, freeing you from the wall. Before you can even think about regaining some semblance of composure he kneels on the floor and sinks his fangs into the dead man’s neck. Your eyes widen as you stand frozen to the spot, unable to blink, run, anything. It takes all you have just to remember to breathe.

He drops the corpse back to the floor when he’s finished feeding, licking his blood-stained lips as he sets his eyes on you again. “I think you’ve bought yourself some time.” He steps closer to you, caging your body between his arms, your back pressed back against the wall. “Convince me to let you live, but your case had better be compelling since you wasted my time earlier.” His dark gaze feels like its searing lines into your flesh as you feel it travel from your eyes to your lips, throat, & chest before raking back up to your eyes. “You still haven’t let me in.” He smirks.

What was that stupid saying that you used to say to your friends? Mark me down as scared and horny. That’s pretty much where you were right now. Terrified for multiple reasons (vampires were real, one sent a madman to kill you then killed said madman in front of you and was maybe, probably, most definitely doing to kill you) but also horny. It was impossible to deny how attractive Baekhyun was, both before when you thought he was human and now as he pinned you to the wall. Your mind is racing, jumping between freaking out about your impending death and lewd comments about his lips, hands, hips. If it had the capacity to take on anything else it might also be disgusted with itself for allowing lust to creep in at a time like this. 

Somewhere deep down in your psyche a thought sparks. Draw this out, stay alive as long as you possibly can. The longer you are alive, the closer you are to sunrise. Make it to sunrise and escape. It wasn’t much to go on but it was the best you could think of. There was no way that you would overpower him with strength. If you wanted to win here then you were going to need to be smart and bide your time. Use every advantage that you could and the sun was a powerful one. His ego might just be another.

“I want to know more about you.” He raises one brow in response.

“Why?” 

You inhale, steeling your nerves as you say the words that will change your life forever. “In the bar before, we talked. I liked that, liked getting to know you -” the words were not untrue. The bar had been nice. You’d captured the attention of the man every person, men and women alike, desired but he had only had eyes for you. You had been sitting at the bar enjoying your Old Fashioned when Baekhyun had first approached you. At the time it was immensely flattering but in hindsight you were probably just easy prey. You were alone and no one else had been paying much attention to you. “- but now that I know that you’re well, not human, I feel like that was all lies. Tell me about you first. Then I’ll let you in.” 

He shifts back and considers your words. “Why should I tell you anything at all? I could just compel you to let me in and use you until I’m bored of your body.” His tone betrays him. He might be impatient and used to getting what he wants but from the way his tone shifted when he said he could compel you, you could tell that doing so would ruin the fun for him. 

So you played with fire, figuratively speaking of course. Standard negotiating probably wouldn’t work here because a) you were terrified and b) impatient vampire. You weren’t trying to get out of sleeping with him either. You were attracted to him even through your fear and there was no denying that you wanted him. All you were trying to gain was time. The closer it got to sunrise, the higher your chances of survival were. 

So you tried to match his ego to unnerve him.“Where is the fun in that?” You shrug. “If all you want is a body to fuck, then why ask me to convince you to let me live? Surely it’s better for you with a willing participant.” You take a step forward, avoiding the dead body on the floor, and advance on Baekhyun as you continue to speak. “One that wants you, that begs for you, that needs you.” You lick your lips as you finish, your words affecting you more than you thought they would. “Why put it all of the effort at the bar when you could have simply locked eyes and told me what you wanted me to do? I think you enjoy the hunt so why spoil it now? What harm is there in telling me about yourself when I’m just going to die anyway?” You shrug. 

Baekhyun takes a few steps back and looks at you, really looks at you. His eyes narrow as he takes you in and tries to work out your ploy. “Interesting tactic little one. Futile though.” He smirks and turns away from you, heading off towards your kitchen. 

Left with the corpse just behind you, you decide to follow him rather than rush out the front door. Baekhyun has already proved that he is faster than you so you probably wouldn’t get very far and even if you got to a neighbour in time there is the very real possibility that they’d die and it would be your fault. 

As you enter the kitchen you spot Baekhyun mixing drinks. He points at the two armchairs you have in your makeshift reading nook, a place that has brought you comfort over the years. If there was ever a place for you to fight for your life then this would be the one place that would bring you strength. You make your way over to one of the armchairs and sink into its comforting embrace while you wait for Baekhyun to finish making drinks.

“I’ll play your game for now little one but don’t push your luck.” He says as he carries two drinks over, handing you one once he is close enough. You notice that he’s made the same drink that you were having at the bar. “You’re not wrong, compelling a mark kind of ruins the vibe but if I have to do it, I will.”

“Noted.”

“Asking me to tell you about myself is a bit vague given my lengthy existence so why don’t you try something more specific? I’ll let you ask as many questions as you want but there is a price for my answers.” He smirks.

“Name it.”

“Each time I answer you, you must remove an article of clothing. Once removed I’m free to touch the unclothed area. When you run out of clothing, your question time ceases and you submit yourself to me to have you as I please.”

You gulp as you try not to let on how appealing his price sounds. The logical part of your brain tries to yell over the burning lust that is taking over your senses about the dangers involved here but as far as you see it your options are die in pain or die in pleasure. Given the choice, you will avoid pain at almost any cost. He thinks he has you trapped, like a cat cornering a mouse but you aren’t so sure that you’ve been beaten yet. Not that he needs to know that.

“I accept your terms.” You say before taking a sip of your drink. The whiskey soothing any errant nerves. 

You see Baekhyun’s eyes darken with desire as he sits opposite you, a smug look on his face now that he thinks he’s won. “I’ll give you a point for not forcing an unnecessary negotiation or rebuttal upon hearing my price.”

“You said not to waste your time. Your terms are not unsurprising and it did not seem like it was up for negotiation when you delivered it.”

“Smart woman.” He relaxed into the armchair, swirling his drink in one hand as the other beckoned for you to begin your questioning.

“How much of what you told me about yourself at the bar was true?”

“All of it.” He states bluntly, chuckling at the surprised look on your face. “I do work at a law firm in town with 8 others, it’s how we exist in human society. I don’t have traditional family as such anymore as I’ve long outlived them. I do prefer to go out at night for obvious reasons beyond my control and I find great beauty in the night.” 

Baekhyun was right, he had told you the truth, just a very short version of it. Should that make you trust him any more? Probably not, but it did instil a small amount of something in you about him. He could have just lied about everything in order to lure you away but he chose the truth. In some weird way that counted for something. 

“No lies, you just never bothered to dig deeper at the time.” He purred, eyes roaming your body as he waited to see what you would remove.

You slipped out of your leather jacket and draped it over the back of your seat. Baekhyun groaned impatiently when he saw the long sleeves that remained covering your arms. Victory, it would seem, was not yet within his grasp. Begrudgingly he took another sip of his drink as you laughed internally at his reaction.

“Is your normal pattern to trick someone into letting you into their home then you kill them?”

“No. My clan and I have tried many things over the years. Let’s see. There was compelling which was just too easy and made our existence dull, posing as missionaries which weirdly enough worked better than it should have… not that I’ll ever let Suho know that. Next was outright frenzy where we razed a town, feasted and moved on - that was one of the early ones.” He grins as he reminisces. “Where was I, oh yes. We told people we were vampires - that one was particularly popular in the 2000’s, we’ve pretended to be injured or dead then attacked the person who was kind enough to try and help us, also too easy in my opinion but effective. You humans are gullible.” He chuckles. “We also tried to use blood banks but supplies could not sustain our hunger without detection, so then we tried setting up our own donor systems but that was a logistical nightmare and more red tape than you should ever have to deal with as an immortal. Roleplay was a fun one, biting is a real kink for so many people - who knew? - and now the current approach which is an amalgamation of past methods - seduction and pleasure followed by feeding.” He finishes his account of vampiric blood sourcing by licking his lips, his fangs hidden from your view. 

If you hadn’t seen them plunged into the neck of the now deceased man in your entryway you could be fooled into thinking that the man sitting across from you was just that, a man. But you had seen them and you knew they were real. You also knew the telltale signs of an impatient man and Baekhyun was most definitely impatient. 

For an immortal being who could remain as still at the night he was fidgeting and tapping his glass more than any vampire should. Whether it was hunger or something else causing it you didn’t know. The erratic movements were unsettling and causing your nerves to return. His gaze pierces yours as he waits.

You set your drink on the floor and stand, moving your arms behind you as you unzip your skirt, letting it fall to the floor, revealing a small amount of flesh at the top of your thighs, your garter belt and stockings covering most of the unveiled skin.

You hear him inhale, something he does not need to do. “You’re just going to leave it on the floor like that? Little one, it will crumple.” His voice is rough as he chides you.

You smirk and turn away from him before giving him what he wants. You step out of the skirt, bend at the hips and collect the discarded piece from the floor. You can feel his eyes on your ass as you bend forward, leaving little to the imagination. Only a small strip of fabric prevents him from your sex.

After you place your skirt on the back of the chair, on top of the jacket, you sit. Your brain doesn’t register the movement but before you can cross one leg over the other Baekhyun is there, kneeling between them, his hands on the uppermost part of your thighs where the skin is exposed. 

“You,” He growls. “do not know the fire with which you are playing with.” You can see the tips of his fangs now. Your body betrays you as you feel heat and want rushing to your core and your eyes close. His fingers trace patterns into your thighs, ghosting near the edge of your panties and down your inner thighs which only builds your arousal. 

“You’ll beg for me to fuck you before you’re fully undressed little one. Why deny yourself what we both know you desire?” He grazes his fangs along the column of your neck as your core clenches around nothing. 

When you open your eyes he is back in his seat swirling his drink like he had never moved. The absence of his touch left you wanting. Your stubbornness is the only thing keeping you from rushing through your questions because Baekhyun is not wrong, you want him - badly. “Are you going to kill me?”

He cocks his head as he ponders your question. “Honestly haven’t made my mind up yet. Before this current bargain I was just going to fuck you and drain you, the only variable there being if I let you enjoy it or if I let you feel pain. Now… I’m not sure. You might be interesting enough to keep alive for now. It all depends really.”

Your fingers expertly undo the buttons of your blouse and you shrug out of its sleeves, leaving you clad only in your underwear and heels. “On what?” You ask. The lines of this little ruse are starting to blur for you. The original plan to keep Baekhyun talking in order to reach sunrise is fading, leaving only images on the vampire taking you every which way, giving you pleasure you could only dream of. 

“On you little one.” Baekhyun’s voice comes from directly behind you. You feel his hands moving down your sides, one snaking between your legs and gripping your inner thigh and the other splayed over your stomach. You feel his fangs drag over your throat and you shudder. “You might just convince me.” You feel his presence disappear and know without turning around that he is no longer standing behind you. You can feel where his hands were on your body, the ghost of his touch remaining. 

As you look around you can’t spot him anywhere. You know he’s still in the house because why would he leave now? You make your way to the various rooms in your home as you search for the vampire but he is nowhere. You start to feel frustration overtaking your lust as you call out. “Baekhyun! Where are you?” 

His voice sounds from a room that you had already checked, your bedroom. “This game needs to continue in another room little one.” You make your way back upstairs to your room as he speaks again, his voice closer this time. “You are far too indecently clothed to be in a sitting room.” 

As you enter the room you see him leaning against your bedpost, his eyes roaming your body. Your ears register the sound of him moving past you but your eyes do not. The door closes behind you and he appears to have not moved. The fear inside you spikes back up as you witness a modicum of his power. You’ve been toying with him when all along he could just snap you like a twig.the thought terrifies you but you try to push your fear down. It will not help you now.

You saunter towards the bed only for him to hold up a hand and stop you. “I believe you asked a question little one. You know the rules.” Left with only a few options you step out of your heels and continue towards the bed.

By your count you have three questions left before this little game ends and you plan to use them to ensure that whatever happens after doesn’t hurt you and might just lead to you keeping your life. You aren’t going to bother with asking more about his past. You are pretty sure you know enough, he’s been undead for quite some time but from looking at him you would guess that he was in his 20’s when he was turned. He can be cruel - you have not forgotten the madman he compelled earlier - he is determined, overconfident, smug, impatient and alluring and he has made you crazed with lust. 

“How do you want me?” you ask sultrily as you reach the foot of your bed.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him remove his jacket and place it over the chair at your dresser. His shoes and socks are next, then he starts to unbutton his shirt as he moves behind you. You can feel him standing behind you but he does not touch you. He lets the anticipation build, he knows this game has almost reached its end, he is one step closer to getting what he wants from you.

“Naked and wanting.” He confesses. “Reveling in the pleasure I give you, begging for more.”

Your bra drops to the floor, making him groan. “And what will you do to me?” You ask, before he can say anything to alter your train of thought. Your mind is set on one path and one path only now. You want him. You want him to make you forget that you were ever afraid of him, that he ever posed a danger to you, that he is anything more than an incredibly attractive man with eyes only for you.

“Everything.” He whispers in your ear. His hands cup your breasts, fingers lightly pinching your nipples. “I’ll make you feel pleasure like you’ve never felt before. Make you beg for me to never stop fucking you, for me to bite you. And I will, once you beg for it.”

A moan escapes your throat, giving away just how aroused you are. Your hand brushes against his crotch as you move to undo your garter belt and you feel how hard he is for you. He stops your hand and completes the action for you, sliding the stockings down your legs and off your feet. He spins you and pushes you down onto the bed, removing the shirt from his shoulders and undoing his pants as he kneels at your feet. 

“Why me?” you manage to say as you watch him undress, your eyes taking in the lean planes of his body. He wasn’t wearing underwear you muse as your eyes are drawn to his cock, hard and waiting to enter you. His eyes follow yours and he grins when he realises where their gaze has not wavered. Shuffling back of the bed far gracefully than he has any right to, he moves back into a standing position so that he can remove his pants. 

Fully naked, he moves back to his position between your legs. “What’s the point of being immortal if you deny yourself the simple pleasures in life?” he responds as he kisses your ankle, before moving up your calf, to your thigh, hip, breast, neck before finally reaching your lips. “I find beauty in the night and I take what I want. Right now, that is you.”

His lips crash into yours in a kiss that is so desperate that you don’t register the ripping of your panties until you can feel him, all of him flush against your skin. His body doesn’t emit heat, rather it is cool to the touch but it isn’t a bad feeling. Rather it is refreshing in comparison to how hot you feel. His mouth works against yours, the lip ring providing a new sensation for the kiss.

When he breaks the kiss to allow you to breathe you see the dark fire in his eyes, his desire palpable. “You’re mine now little one. I told you your game was futile, that you would give in to me and here we are, your wet little cunt begging for my cock. Do you think you deserve pleasure after how long you made me wait?”

“Yes.” you breathe.

He looks amused. “Oh? And why is that?”

“I was scared of you. There was no desire to let you in before we talked more but now, now I want you even though I know part of the truth about you. You said it was better if the other person was willing, well, now I am.” You laid out the truth for him. You were no longer scared of him even though you knew he could still inflict the worst pain imaginable on you and kill you. What you felt now was desire so strong that nothing, not even fear of death, could break through.

He grinned, baring his fangs to you. “You, my dear, have proven to be far more interesting than I gave you credit for. There is one thing I didn’t tell you though, something that will make what is about to happen much more pleasurable for you. Vampires can direct the blood flow of any body that they are in contact with. You think you want me now? Wait until you feel as though you’re on fire, your skin burning with need as I taste you. You’ll beg me to drink your blood from wherever I please. And I will.” 

You shuddered at his words. Desire pouring through you, making you feel as though you were drugged. “Kiss me.” The words left your mouth without any thought. Baekhyun leaned down and his lips closed over yours gently, seeing if you were going to try and get away from him. When he realised that you weren’t going anywhere he intensified the kiss, increasing the pressure and igniting your senses. 

He ran his tongue along the seam of your lips until you opened your mouth, allowing your tongues to work against each other. You could feel his fangs grazing your lip but it did not scare you, rather it made you want more. His hands roamed your body as the two of you kissed, teasing your nipples and brushing near your core, never where you wanted the friction the most. 

“Please” you moan.

“What do you want little one?” he teases.

“Touch me.” His hands grip your thighs, spreading your legs wide for him. You try to roll your hips, desperate for any sort of friction but you don’t achieve the contact you’re after. You whimper as the frustration builds. You want him to touch you so badly, you need your release and soon.

“Patience little one.” He chuckles. “As flattering as it is to see just how badly you want me, I want to savour this. His eyes drift down. “You look delectable.” He shifts his body down the bed so that his face is level with your dripping centre. 

He slowly drags his fangs from your thigh, up your leg, and moves over your centre, to the other thigh. The sensation makes you whimper as you try to grind your hips, but he holds you down with his hands as you try to find some friction to help you along. “Please” You breathe.

Smirking he moves back to where you need him the most, flicking his tongue against your clit. Your mind goes blank at the sensation as he repeats the motion, deepening the pressure he’s applying until you moan loudly. If anything, it only serves to spur him on, attaching his lips to your clit as his tongue presses and swirls around it. Your hips would have been bucking into his face if he wasn’t holding you down.

He pauses for a moment to confess “You are fucking delectable, I could do this all night.” before resuming his feast. You bite your lip as he rolls his tongue against you, his fangs lightly grazing your clit and sending a whole new wave of pleasure flowing through you. You never expected his fangs to draw such a response from you but you felt yourself moan louder every time they grazed over your clit. You could feel his eyes watching you as he pleasured you, taking in every reaction and building his actions on that. Your arousal builds as he alternates the pace and pressure of his tongue, and increases the feel of his fangs against you. 

“Fuck” you whimper. The sensations are building too quickly and you can feel your release approaching with haste when he detaches his mouth from you. You look down at him and he smirks at you before you can utter a complaint, not breaking eye contact as he pushes one then two fingers into your wet heat. 

You can’t stop yourself from moaning his name as he starts to move his fingers back and forth in a steady rhythm. “You like that?” he growls as you clench around his fingers. “Little one, you are so wonderfully wet. Just for me. You love it don’t you? You love how my fingers feel, how my tongue feels and most of all you love how my fangs feel against your clit. Don’t you?” His pupils are so dark and blown out with lust as he lowers his skilled mouth back to your bundle of nerves.

The combined sensation of his long fingers, skilled tongue and sharp fangs become too much for you. He moans against you as he works, curling his fingers inside you and fluttering his tongue against your clit. You writhe on the bed as he increases his speed to a level that a mere human could never achieve and right before your orgasm hits, he sinks his fangs into you. The pleasure was so intense, so overwhelming that you sobbed his name as he helped you ride out your high. You were too far gone to realise that he was tasting you, really tasting you now that his fangs penetrated your flesh. You felt no pain, only white hot pleasure. 

When he released you he looked up at you, mouth and fangs dripping with a mixture of your juices and blood. Your body still tingles with aftershocks of your orgasm and you feel like you’re on fire. You should be spent but you only want him more. 

God you wanted to him to fuck you.

He flips you over, positioning you on your knees. He grunts as he enters you in one fluid motion. He meets no resistance given how ready you were for his cock. He grips your waist tightly as he sets a brutal pace, the only sounds in the room are of skin hitting skin and cries of pleasure. 

“You fit my cock perfectly. Look at how much you want this, at how badly you want a vamp to fuck the life out of you.” He grunts in between thrusts. 

“Baekhyun. Fuck” You moan when he hits your g spot. 

You had never felt pleasure like this before. You’d had great sex before but this was on a level of its own. Baekhyun had had an unknown amount of time to perfect this act and hone his skills and he was not disappointing. He moved between a pace that felt more like what you were used to and then a pace faster than you could have ever imagined. 

“This.” He growled, “Is how a vampire fucks you.” and lifted your body up so that it was flush with his, tilting your head so that your throat was exposed for him. He ran his tongue along your neck, making you moan deeply as you recalled the feeling of his fangs.

“You want it don’t you?” He asked as he pounded into you. “Want me to sink my fangs back into your flesh as I fuck you?” You couldn’t form words to respond to him, only moans of want and pleasure. He grazed his fangs along your neck and you writhed against the touch.

His fangs pierced the skin of your neck and the sensation barreled you over the edge. Everything was heightened and a feeling that you had never experienced before flooded your system. You felt full, alive, and like you were about to explode. You shuddered and cried out as your orgasm ripped through you harder than last time as Baekhyun chased his. 

The last thing you saw before you blacked out were his eyes, now a deep red as he stared down at your form and smiled. “I think I’ll keep you.”

[burntmcnuggies]

A Hopeless Fight

Yandere Levi x Reader

Warning: this story contains blood, gore, and suggestive themes such as kidnapping, murder, non-consensual touching, forced sex, and drug usage. You guys have been warned! Now all of you who wanna read! Please enjoy! :D

Chapter Three: Hell

Everything was dark.

My ears were ringing wildly and my body felt so cold. The ground was hard and chilly, almost as if I was laying on straight ice. My head was throbbing, and a rush of blood was shot through my body in a sudden moment. I could hear the faint sound of a deep voice that rumbled in my ears, and some high pitched noice that made my body shiver. My eyes slowly began to crack open and a flash of white and red filled my blurry vision. It was only until I saw more red, and the familiar color of skin, my body became fully awake and aware of what was going on. A scream forced past my lips while my eyes shot wide. The light hurt, but the horror before my eyes was just too captivating and terrifying, I couldn’t look away.

There, chained to the cold plastic tarps was a man. He had no head, but it was unmistakably a man due to the missing part of his genitals that used to hang between his legs. Stringy organs were hanging from his stomach, and multiple chucks of his flesh were carefully carved out. His head was laying in the floor, the horrified expression forever etched onto his youthful looking face. His dull and lifeless eyes would forever haunt me. However, it was only until a bloodied black glove came into my view, I became aware I wasn’t the only living being down here. My back slammed against the wall while my lungs clawed at the air for a lick of oxygen to pass them. My chest was heaving so hard and fast it felt like I had just ran a marathon. A silvery sheen twinkled, and my heart dropped seeing the eyes of the killer. There was an unmissable glint in his eyes.

Murderous intent.

The carnal hunger to spill blood.

A sadistic shine of amusement.

Disgust.

Pity.

Possessiveness.

It was Corporal Levi Ackerman. The man put in charge of the investigating the murders. That feeling in my gut was right. There is something sinister about him that unsettled me, but now, I’m seeing his true colors. I’m seeing him for the monster he really is. “You’re up. Bout time, brat.” Adrenaline pumped through my veins and I jerked harshly to the right towards a small staircase, but a painful tug came at both my wrists. I cried in pain and looked down in terror to see my wrists cuffed and chained to the wall. Before I knew it, a searing hot gloved hand came in contact with my throat. My head came in contact with the cold wall and I could slowly feel my airway beginning to be blocked. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It’d be a shame to kill you. You could prove to be quite valuable. Since shitty glasses owns that hospital she can’t really help me out, but an aspiring med student? I suggest you choose not to be a shit for brains and corporate with me.”

I couldn’t raise my wrists to try and pry his hands from my throat, I could only pull on them helplessly in hopes that somehow they would break. His other hand slowly came, gloved and dark, dripping with the same liquid that courses through both of our veins. “Tch, cat got your tongue? Where’s all that happy spunk I saw before at the hospital?” His already narrow eyes sharpened and narrowed further, creating quite a scary image. It was like he was the devil in the flesh. A real life boogeyman. No emotion showed on his face, but his eyes spoke a million words. This man was truly a monster. Suddenly his hand lunged towards my face and his palm crushed my nose, his strong fingers gripping tightly onto my skull. The irony smell filled my nose and a metallic taste invaded my mouth involuntary, making my stomach churn. “Tell me, brat. Are you scared?”

“LET ME GO YOU DISGUSTING MONSTER!!!!” I screamed against his gloved hand and squirmed my hands to no avail, tears steaming down my face while the raven haired man continued to grip my face. That proved to be the biggest regret of my life. A pissed off look crossed his face and he took his hand away dripping with blood and he planted his foot and in a flash, his other foot collided with the side of my face. My head throbbed aggressively and I could feel something warm running down my nose and the side of my head. Bloody tears fell from my eyes as the salty tears cascading down my face and collided with the thick crimson substance. Another kick came straight into my stomach, and my eyes widened. Blood spewed from my mouth and onto his black apron, it coated the cement floor below me. It felt like I was just ran over by a car. “Tch, you’re the one that’s disgusting. You got me all dirty you shit head. You need to be punished.” He raised his foot and smashed my arm harshly, smirking at my screams.

This was truly hell.

.

.

.

What was it I felt when I first saw her? I’ve never felt anything like this before. Tch, a shitty new emotion to keep up with. That look in her eyes. Determination, sadness, and the look of desperation. Hanji has mentioned she was a med student. Why? There had to be a reason. My silvery eyes slowly moved down to the wad of cash in my firm strong hands. I was tasked with killing her, but I couldn’t bring myself to embed a blade through her slim throat. She was unconscious, laying there painfully from the sedative. Her smooth skin reflected against the light, and if I focused hard enough I could hear her soft breathing. “Ugh... uh...? UH?! AHHH!!! WHERE AM I?!?!” I sharply clicked my tongue and turned towards my next victim. I had him stripped down naked to humiliate him. Serves the bastard right for annoying the shit out of me. “Well, well, look who finally decided to wake up.”

I taunted the man while I stalked over towards my table of tools. Each one screamed for me to choose it, ready to taste that satisfying flavor of blood. A faint noise came to my ears and I looked down noticing this fucker pissed himself all over my damn clean tarps. I scowled in anger and disgust and picked up a butcher knife, a classic horror cliché from books and thriller movies. But it was the best tool to use in this moment. The silver blade scraped against the metal table weeping in ecstasy I had chosen it to mutilate this filthy scum bag. “What’s wrong? Not enjoying the feeling of exposing yourself to a stranger?” I walked towards him expertly twirling the blade in my hand. Oh I loved seeing that horrified look in his eyes. I stopped a few feet away and looked back to my prisoner who still happened to be unconscious. “Don’t you know it’s rude to do that in front of lady?”

“NO!!! I-IT IS RUDE!!! VERY RUDE IM SORRY!! PLEASE ILL DO ANYTHING YOU ASK!!” Tears were already hitting the tarp harshly, snot running down his nose and salvia pouring from his mouth. Disgusting. I cocked my head to the side and feigned sympathy for the perverted man before me. I sighed and stepped closer, lowering the knife. Once I was in front of him I placed my hands on my hips and nodded. “Fine. I’ve got something for you to do.” A spark of hope dwindled in his desperate eyes. Fool, in this world the strong prey on the weak. I harshly grabbed his genitals and gave a firm tug before I leaned close to his ear and whispered lowly. “Stay quiet. While I chop you up.” And in one swift motion, he was no longer a man. Just a breathing pile of flesh screaming and bleeding, crying for his life. “Hey, I thought I told you to shut up.” I shoved my fist into his face, breaking his jaw instantly on impact. Quiet whimpers and disfigured pleas for his life fell upon my deaf ears as I grinned and raised the knife again.

“See you in hell. Scum.”

[zora-moyashi]

First

Prev         Next

Core

Shine made a star and tossed it at the creature, it exploded, making the creature fall onto it's back. Shade ran out to try and finish it when a much, much larger version of the bird flew down to protect it's young.

 ZM

"whoop, that's bad news." with indigo magic she got to shade quickly and pulled him out of the way just as the mom bird was about to close it's beak around him. with the sudden stop of motion shade was flung away from chara a bit and hits a tree as he's not used to that. "what a pretty bird~"

"the baby was kinda ugly but that grown up is majestic." her eyes sparkle. 

  Core

(this is mom)

 ZM

(hi mom~)

Core

Shade got to his feet, Shine ducked back to the bushes. Shade growled

(this is baby)

ZM

(k i take it back, the baby's not ugly lol he looks like a good boi) "shade, this is what we call a tactical error haha! ideas?" she watches the birds carefully as the mom starts to come over to them

Core

The mother kept her young underneath her, as she screeched at them, Shine blindly threw a star, it going in the bird's mouth,

ZM

it explodes in her mouth and the bird falls to the ground. unclear if the shock made it pass out or if it blew her brains out. chara whistles. "nice throw shine" she goes over not caring about the baby that much.

Core

The mother swung her head, hitting Chara, part of the mother's beak had blown off

ZM

she is hit away but lands on her feet. "well that's no way to live, with that you'll starve to death. now we haveta kill you" she makes a knife and throws it into the wound worsening the crack.

Core

The bird screeched, Shade ran in, sinking his fangs into the birds neck

ZM

chara jumped up and lands on the bird's head she made a heavy mallet way bigger than herself and slammed it down into it's forehead.

Core

The mother fell, dead.

ZM

she pats her hands on her shorts as the mallet disappears and leaves residue on them "cool. the baby's yours you two." she hops down and cartwheels happily as her lv goes higher

Core

Shine looked at the baby, "I'm sorry." She said, Shade struggled getting out of under the mother

ZM

she lays on the ground watching a little bit warn out.

Core

Shade got out from underneath. Shine nuzzled the baby

ZM

"shine, we're not making friends here. you just helped to kill it's mother. it hates you."

Core

"B-But I d-d-idn't mean to.... I thought we were still playing."

ZM

"no, not right now."

Core

Shine looked at the baby. "I'm gonna keep him."

ZM

chara chokes on her spit. "excuse me??? " she sits up. "how do you expect to feed it or just take care of it in general???"

Core

"I dunno, But he is mine now." She said hugging the baby's neck.

ZM

"shade. talk sense into your sister. now."

Core

"If you can think of a name then you c-"

"skink." Shine said

ZM

she goes over to them. "no." she glares

Core

"I named him, I can keep him now." Shine said. Shade just shrugged.

ZM

"i hate to always be the 'bad guy' but." she goes over to the baby ready to slash and kill it.

Core

Shade formed his shield

Skink fluttered his wings, unable to fly yet

ZM

"haha. yeah sure shade. that's not going to stop me." she glances to shine to see if she'll do something to save her bird.

Core

"E-easy Skink." She calmed the bird

ZM

"no pets aloud unless you know what the hell they are." she makes a sword and hits shade's shield pushing him back a bit.

Core

Shade dug his feet into the dirt, pushing back. "Skink is skink, there!" "Actually they are called banshees." A voice said.

ZM

chara pushes shade away and almost cracks his shield as the green from gradient's soul shines through the sword for a second. shade falls against the bird. "who's there?" she looks around

Core

She saw a star in one of the giant trees. She had turquoise hair, a pair of white feathered wings and a tan scarf around her next. (achievement unlocked: Find Ink)

ZM

(haha yay!) she recognizes her as vanta looked like her before. "are you ink?" she turns to her.

Core

"That is correct, miss Dreemurr

ZM

she cringes at the name. "you're a hard one to find. what brings you here." she glares back at shine as to tell her to kill the damn bird.

Core

Shine shook her head no. "I made this world, I might as well stay in it." Ink responded, her eyes glowing as the mother healed

ZM

she shakes her head as the bird heals

shade uncovers his arm and sees it's seared were chara hit. he touches it gingerly and it's plenty painful

Core

Shade hissed at this burn, Shine looks at it

"Well, the two are just kits, and you expect them to deal with a full grown leonoptryx, you've caused so much damage and expect everyone else to follow the rules? Rather naive if you want my opinion."

  ZM

(hehe)"yoooo, i've not broken any rules yet! what are you on about?" chara sneers. i didn't expect them to take down the mom! just the kid! we're training."

Core

"You don't think traveling to different alternate timelines, causing damage and trauma is breaking the rules?" Ink asked, "And as for training, there are much better opponents for kits their age."

ZM

"i'd say not! hey, i'm not messing with code. i just have some powerful 'friends'. and what do you expect them to do? they won't brawl and everyone that would help is on a much higher level than them."

she goes over to the mom and watches as it's beak reforms

Core

Ink's eyes glowed as the mother picked up her young and flew off. "a bone general would be a good start." She said as a skeleton with blue armor and a sword formed. Shine started crying because Skink was gone

ZM

chara hates the sound of crying and holds one ear. "shine please, your bird is better off with it's mom." chara climbs up to where ink is. "so you have kits?"

Core

"That is none of your concern." Ink said, making a smaller version of skink, one the size of a house cat, to get Shine to stop crying

ZM

"one: would you stop spoiling my kits, two: one of your kits destroys the universe so it is my concern. three: who the hell is the other parent. or did you just poof them to existence like that little monster down there?"

Core

"one; I am not spoiling them. Two, Gradient is not technically my kit. Three, I cannot reproduce, so I simply create." Ink said, watching as Shade used his arm-blade against the monster, which blocked with it's shield

ZM

"whatever. you still made her. who are her siblings?" she asks more like a demand.

Core

(she's a lot different than the original, huh?) "I created Fallacy for Gradient to bond to, kits need something to bond with, normally it is the mother, if the mother is unable to care for them, a sibling should suffice, if the kit thinks the sibling could leave at any time, or sees that kit retreat to their core, they will try to quickly find something else to bond with, in your case, the male is bonded with the female, and the female to the banshee. Which tells me the male kit has had to retreat to his core, correct?"

ZM

"woah. that's fkn weird." she kicks her feet around. "well yeah you're right, but he was only out for like... 5 minutes."

Core

"Doesn't matter, that trust can break within seconds, you want to keep them stable, keep those bonds."

ZM

(oh and yeah she sure is different than other ink, it's kinda jarring haha) "yuck"

"i don't want to be a parent."

"kay fine, say i only need one, and i have it bond to me or shatter. that'd work fine right?"

Core

"Then you shouldn't have started your plan, and as for your question, the more bonds that are broken, the less likely they are to bond again, which would lead to aggressive or possible feral behavior." Ink explained as Shade dusted the monster

ZM

"excuse me a second." she hops a ways a way and starts swearing continuously at the top of her lungs followed by a frustrated yell. she slowly makes her way back with the kits looking at her like she's lost it. "cheating would be a lot easier." She says to ink

Core

"But there is no fun in a game with out a challenge." Ink said, spawning a purple spirit monster for Shine to fight against.

ZM 

(okay, also shimp chara)

"by this point i just want to win."

Core

"The longer you wait however, the sweeter the victory." Ink said, watching Shine

ZM

"i wanna live my days at the top of the world with no one to stop me"

"not, getting there."

Core

Then you should have stayed in your world, you had a choice, you decided to enter ours, so now you have to play the game."

ZM

she mutters "i wouldn't really call it a choice." she looks at ink "is it worth it to go with my plan even if i somehow loose and am trapped to serve one of those kids forever?"

Core

"Well that depends, my creator seeks to impress yours, so she may try to show off, if you will. With that in mind, she will make the game much more complex, enough so that logic doesn't apply, chances are however, she'll kill off her own creations like she normally does." Ink explained, as Shine defeated the ghost

ZM

"woah, you talk to the creators? crazy. be that as it may i suppose i'll just have to keep up my determination hm?" she looks over to shine who got an lv. a little confused how all the sudden she's not bonded with shade. she couldn't imagine that happening with her and asriel.

Core

Shine smiled, snuggling Skink

ZM

"well ink, i think gradient wanted to meet you? maybe i'm wrong but you should go check on her either way." she hops down from the tree.

Core

"I have no interest in meeting a variant, if you so desire, I can watch these two."

ZM

she thinks that over. “why would you do that for me? i'm just some random chara you know."

Core

"Is it that absurd to also be intrigued by your little game?" Ink replied coldly.

ZM

she's silent for a second studying her response. "know what? i don't like you. so that's a no." she turns on her heel and goes to the kits. she checks them both including their lv.

Core

Shade was at level 15, Shine at 12

"not too shabby in all honesty, assumptions are being made but can a star's lv be maxed out? perhaps at 100?" she asks them

Core

"No, it can go higher, though it takes much, much longer." Ink explained.

ZM

"hmm i see," she checks her own soul that's only on 10 at this point. she puts it away and ushers the kids up and to go back to the bubble. "so ink. don't mess with the kits please, this is a delicate operation and i don't need any distractions."

Core

"I won't, it's more interesting to just watch."

ZM

"i'll hold you to that" she waves her hand through the unstable part of space where the bubble left them and goes back to shatter. tonic looks at chara warily and goes up to them all apparently growing some nerve. tonic sits infront of them. "i only want to help, chara. i am unsure why you dislike me but at least let me be of some use to you when you need?" chara shakes her head "i'm a stubborn mule, just stay out of my way and your precious little feelings wont get hurt." tonic lets out a huff and goes over to the kits despite chara's protest. "what did you two experience out there?" tonic asks

Core

Shine showed Tonic Skink. "I made a new friend!"

Shade looked at Chara with a slight glare

ZM

tonic smiles "aw, it looks very pleasant" tonic was unsure of what it was but it didn't matter that much to them. "is there something wrong shade?"

Core

"They're up to something, but I'm not sure what..." Shade mumbled

ZM

"are you referring to chara?" they cock their head to the side

Core

"Yeah." Shade said sitting down next to Tonic.

Core

Shine was showing Skink to Dusk, who smiled at the bird

ZM

she looks to chara who is chatting with Olympia she mulls over if she should tell him her intentions, or if their loyalties belong more to chara. seeing as chara won't let tonic help they decide to help the kits instead. "um, yes she does have a plan"

Core

'Well, it isn't wise to trust Ink, she tends to look more for herself than others.' Olympia told Chara. "Do you know what it is? If she's going to hurt Shine I need to know." Shade said to Tonic.

ZM

"yes is would involve your sister. she plans to take both of your soulstones and control them after bonding with you. what will you do about it? you'll get yourself killed if you're reckless."

ZM

"no duh," chara says "in all honesty i hope to never see her again, i kinda feel bad for gradient tho"

Core

"We both know that I don't care if I get killed, as long as Shine is safe." Shade said, trying to think of what to do. 'About her, she really shouldn't be here, I'm honestly not sure but something just tells me that she isn't supposed to be alive.' Olympia acknowledged Chara, looking over at Gradient who was talking, or at least trying to talk with a split of Shatter that chara didn't recognize.

ZM

"i see," tonic stays quiet letting him think after a while they start again "perhaps if you get strong enough to fight her that would be the easiest course of action?" chara looks at gradient as well. "well i mean yeah, her whole world was empty, but i just thought she deserves to get another chance at life. you have a bad feeling about her?"

Core

"Maybe," Shade said Olympia nodded. 'Some things are not meant to be.' (Only one of Shatter's splits has her soulstone)

ZM

(hmm which one?) "should we inform shine?" chara folds her arms. "maybe so but i'm not giving up on her just yet."

Core

(The one that is gonna get rid of gradient.) "No, not yet." Shade muttered. Olympia sighed, looking over to gradient and the split Chara didn't know. The split had grey hair and pale, somewhat fogged over eyes, her mouth was sewn shut.

ZM

tonic quiets again, chara doesn't like olympia's tone so she goes over to check on gradient. "hey you two, how's it hanging?"

Core

"o-oh everything is fine." Gradient smiled softly

ZM

"mmhm." not convinced she looks at the split "so whore you? ghost type? dark?"

Core

The split shook her head for both questions, unable to speak

ZM

she pouts a bit, "normal? ground? steel?"

Core

She nodded at normal, she didn't seem to make eye contact either.

ZM

she makes a confused face turning to gradient "why are you hanging out with her of all the people around?"

Core

"She seems t-the least s-scary."

ZM

she takes another look at the split. "yeah okay?" she doesn't get it, in fact this split is giving her the creeps.

Core

The split's mouth was sewn tightly shut, Olympia teleported over. Gradient seemed intimidated by Olympia

ZM

"hi oly," she gives a little wave. tonic speaks up to shade, "we might be able to convince shatter to help us, she's not happy with chara's plan."

Core

"Which one is Shatter?" Shade asked. 'Her name is Scarlett.' Olympia said to Chara

ZM

"okay hey scarlett, i'll ask again, are you messing with gradient? i'm not trusting shatter's opinion on her."

"shatter is all of them combined." she informs

Core

Scarlett shook her head and pointed to her ears, showing she was only listening. "Really? that sounds kinda cool.”

ZM

tonic nods happily "yes it is cool." chara purses her lips, "you don't mind me listening as well?" she asked gradient.

Core

"O-of course n-not." Gradient smiled. "I bet that means they all care about you, huh?"

ZM

tonic scans all the shatter sisters and lightly shrugs, " i have not talked to all of them one on one so i'm unsure." chara smiles back and sits on the ground.

Core

Gradient went back to talking about all sorts of weird plants, called solar lilies. "Why don't you do that?"

ZM

tonic tilts their head. "you wish for me to do that right now?" chara's enjoying the bit of peace for however short she might cut it.

Core

Scarlett started undoing the string that kept her mouth shut. "Sure." Shade shrugged.

ZM

"okay," tonic turns rubbing their face with the back of their hand and goes over to scarlett seeing she's going to start talking.

Core

Scarlett then whispered something to Gradient before starting to sew her mouth shut again. "I'm s-sorry but I c-could just barely hear you..."

ZM

chara's content just sitting there even when tonic trots over sitting by gradient.

Core

(guess what) Gradient soon went back to talking.

ZM

(what what?) tonic's curiosity of what scarlett just said is gnawing at them. she looks at olympia as if asking for an explanation.

Core

(Scarlett used Perish Song) Olympia stayed silent, as if her mind was preoccupied by something else

ZM

(oh lord >:O dang it scarlet. i was so confused for a second i thought parish song was a ghost move but very wrong i am) tonic fidgets with her hands turning to gradient instead "um- what... what did scarlett whisper to you?"

Core

Gradient was about to answer when her eyes went dull and she turned to dust.

ZM

chara jolts up hearing scarlett's lv raise. seeing the pile of dust she hops to her feet and instantly goes for scarlett's neck with her newly formed knife. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME!"

Core

Scarlett used protect as a bubble pushed Chara away, keeping Scarlett safe

ZM

tonic looked at the pile with no soulstone to be seen in shock. confused by shatter would do that. chara rubs her nose as she's pushed back as soon as the bubble goes down she goes to stab her in the gut hoping that if scarlett goes for another protect it fails. (gotta go bye(

Core

Scarlett got up and moved so quickly it looked like a blur. she was very fast.

ZM

chara growls in a low register and goes after olympia instead trying to pin her down with magic "what the heck man!? why'd you do it!"

Core

‘I already explained to you why.’ Olympia replied, teleporting

ZM

chara grunts irritated, looking back over to scarlett "well crap oly, why do you let me live here than? get your mind in the right way of thinking cause i 'plan' on destroying this world a lot worse than gradient would have!"

"I don't get you at all!" she whines, tonic is a little confused as well.

Core

‘Actually it’s not, your plan won’t alter the code of the timeline, while Gradient’s presence did.’ Olympia then explained. ‘It’s a matter of stability’

ZM

"ah? hahah moku has other plans, is that another reason why you took me away from nightmare's group?" she turns to face her again. "why is the code where you put the line you're not willing to cross?"

Core

‘Because we have seen what happens when timelines collapse, and it isn’t favorable.’ Olympia explained.

ZM

"pfft, sure." she rubs her head giving up on fighting "well she's dead anyway now not much i can do but reset, i have a feeling you'll get around me somehow and kill her either way."

Core

‘She just can’t stay here, there is already an ion cube here,’ Olympia said.

ZM

"there's a bunch of ion cubes somewhere in the multiverse. but whateverrr," she pauses. " I want to go see killer,"

tonic takes some of gradient's dust and stores it.

Core

Olympia sighed and opened a portal

ZM

"thanks!" she hops through and finds killer still hung against the wall.

Core

Horror was teasing Killer about being stuck

ZM

"hi horror," she goes up to them. "nice to see you're still hanging around killz~"

Core

"Oh f*ck off." Killer hissed before Horror destroyed the wall, freeing Killer

ZM

chara giggles, "ya know it's not nice to try to kill your friends."

Core

"I don't have any friends." Killer hissed, Horror whispered to Chara, "she says that yet she hasn't killed you yet." Horror snickered.

ZM

"i know right?" she whispers back with a grin. "can't fool me, horror's your friend, so are the other's. you'd be a mess without them."

Core

"I literally can

't kill Horror, I've tried." Killer said with a hiss, getting her knife

ZM

"doesn't mean you don't like her!"

Core

"I don't, she's obnoxious, annoying and the only reason she hangs out with me is because I am the only one who tolerates her!" Horror shrugged. "You ain't wrong."

ZM

"hey that sounds like me haha, you like annoying people it seems. there's nothing wrong with enjoying someone's company ya know"

Core

"I don't." Killer hissed, putting the blade in her pocket.

ZM

"actions speak louder than words killz~" noticing her standing down

Core

"Stuff it, the element of surprise is gone." Killer hissed.

ZM

"you're acting like an edgy teenager that's rebelling against your own nature. and granted, i don't know what's really going on in your head, if you hate me or horror or not. but, i do know i still consider you one of my best friends," she shrugs "so here i am."

Core

“That’s really a mistake.” Killer sighed, walking out of the castle

ZM

chara looks to horror wondering what she'll do

Core

Horror shrugged. “Wanna see something cool?”

ZM

"uuuuuuuuhh mayyyybe?" she takes a step back

Core

Horror went to the window and jumped out, hitting the rocks below with a splat

ZM

she looks down at her mangled body "well damn, that looked like it felt good." she climbs out the window and joins horror on the ground poking a mushy area of her mangled body with her foot.

Core

Horror slowly regenerated, her body fixing itself

ZM

"must say, that was indeed cool"

Core

“Told ya.” She said, standing up.

ZM

"yes you did." she hums to herself "yo, so what do you think about LJ?"

Core

“She’s fun.” Horror smiled

ZM

"is she one of your favorites to be around? I don't see you around her much"

Core

“Well she’s unstable sometimes and Nightmare is kinda protective of her.” Horror explained

ZM

"unstable how?" She tilts her head and kicks around the dirt under her finding a rock to pickup

Core

“She’ll get all twitchy and starts to babble stuff, all while laughing.” Horror said

ZM

"fair, I thought you might enjoy her ramblings so I thought I'd ask. but night is indeed protective, hmmm you know what would be fun?" she finds one and picks it up "I wanna get the kits to try and mess with LJ and killz. Maybe change their perceptions on life, It'd be good mental training. Know what? Yeah I'ma do that." She calls for shatter.

Core

Olympia opened a portal, surprising the crap out of Horror

ZM

"heyo~" she hops in the portal and goes up to the kits. "New mission, you two ready?"

Core

"Can I bring Skink? Please? Dusk taught me how to train him!" Shine begged.

ZM

"sure whatever" she's not thrilled but is going to deal with it.

Core

Shine smiled and brought the creature in her arms. Shade glared at Chara before walking

ZM

they go back out to horror "have you met the kids? they were dream's" she asks

Core

"Are you gonna eat them?" Horror asked, acting like the kits were fries and not living things

ZM

"hahah nah, and you don't get to eat them either."

Core

Horror raised a brow, "Is this supposed to be a joke?"

ZM

"nope, what do you mean by that?"

Core

"If you aren't gonna eat them, I am." Horror said, "They're food, food is for eating."

ZM

"ahem, no, they aren't food, do you consider yourself food? they're just like you ya know"

Core

"They're an easy meal, genocides are opportunists eaters, I am not one who is gonna pass up a meal." Horror crossed her arms

ZM

"haha, you totally ignored my question, but ey," she shrugs. "point is, touch them and your gonna die a thousand times over. there's plenty of meat around for you without these two."

Core

Horror growled slightly tapping her foot. "I think I know why Killer doesn't like you, you're no fun..."

ZM

"pffffff think what you want hon. do you wantta join us messing with LJ and killer or not?" she folds her arms

Core

"Yeah, yeah." Horror rolled her eye

ZM

"kay," she looks back at the portal which is now closed. she starts walking to the broken city with the kits "you guys wanna race?" she looks over at them.

Core

Shine nodded happily. Shade shrugged

ZM

"sweet," she stretches a little and coats her feet in indigo doing the same to the kids. "ready? "

Core

Shade looked at his feet in confusion, Shine nodded happily

ZM

"go!" she heads off quickly assuming the kits to have a hard time getting adjusted as she moves backwards to watch them.

Core

Shine started moving like a skater, keeping balance, Shade jumped

ZM

chara's pleased with how fast they caught on. they go through the dusty area and are nearing the city. she looks over to see horror wondering what if she is following.

Core

Horror grumbled slightly as she trotted on over

ZM

chara slides across the dirt to stop herself by the clock tower. coughing and waving the dust away.

Core

"Double, double disco queen, heading to the guillotine." She could hear

ZM

she looks around for her

Core

LJ was in the on the roof of a building.

[shedreamsofstars]

Threads of our Sols - Chapter 1

A series of fluffy interconnecting snapshots inspired by the Silvaze Week 2019 themes of dream, music, fairy tale, marriage, ‘I’m okay’ lantern and gardening.

Next chapter

These Threads That Dream

Silver was a cad.

What other word was there for someone whose gaze kept drifting back to a beautiful yet unsuspecting woman? He wasn’t even being coy he noted, blinking slowly as Blaze read through and signed another Royal contract, blissfully oblivious to his ogling.

They were currently in the large meeting room where the Queen usually held gatherings with her advisers, but today they sat alone at the long empty table. Silver had offered to help Blaze sort through and prioritise the many request forms she’d received from the citizens of Sol, but he had long since given up the endeavour for something far more intriguing.

Day dreaming hopeless yet perfect scenarios in which he figured out how to reveal the secret that he was currently hiding in his back quills.

He had crafted close to a few dozen different plans, each more elaborate and extravagant than the last. But even those had subsided when he realised that Blaze was so engrossed in her work that she had no idea what was happening around her. Or who was admiring her.

Silver mentally berated himself for being so ungentlemanly, but the more he tried to look away the more he found that he couldn’t. Her eyes were golden nectar and he the bumblebee that had been caught in her sweet gaze. They were molten honey in the afternoon sun, drawing him in with every flutter of those dark lashes.

The ivory hedgehog’s back quills itched annoyingly, and he reprimanded his brain for betraying him. It wasn’t time. Blaze was busy working and he had had no time to prepare and execute any one of the several ideas he had just come up with. He needed the moment to be perfect and that meant that he had to plan everything down to the letter.

The Queens forehead dipped into a small crease as she read through the paper in her hand and a crooked grin stretched across Silver’s lips. Only confusion ever brought out that particular frown, and for a moment he let himself wonder what it would feel like. To reach out and smooth it away with his fingertips, to feel the smoothness of the crimson gem without being sequestered away in some hidden nook of the palace.

Sol be damned, he could write a million and one poems about this woman he thought as he tipped his head and cradled it with his hands. About the way she’d always bring the pen in her hand close to her mouth, as if to chew it, before catching herself and placing it gently before her. The way the strands of her hair that always escaped her braids and ponytails swayed at the tiniest movement. The way her lashes brushed her cheeks as she turned to look towards –

“Silver?”

The hedgehog startled instantly, chin hitting the table with an irritable twinge of pain as he momentarily forgot what he was doing. “Yes?” he yelped, suddenly uncomfortable as he realised that he’d finally been caught out. He cleared his throat as Blaze levelled him with a look he had no clue how to interpret. Intrigue? Anger? Confusion? All three?

“What exactly are you doing?” she asked carefully.

“Hmm?” he said, pretending he hadn’t heard her. He needed time to think of an answer more appropriate than ‘admiring how wonderful you are’ but no luck.

“Were you day dreaming?” she asked when he failed to respond. Her tone lacked any accusation, but Silver felt guilty regardless as he realised he hadn’t finished going through the requests.

“No, of course not,” he said, sounding unconvincing even to himself. He most certainly had been day dreaming and from the way the cat arched a single brow at him, she knew it too. “Okay, yes. I was daydreaming,” he said, cheeks blazing with embarrassment.

She watched him with those piercing eyes, golden and intense with a hint of something warm that he fell for every time. That he loved. Silver’s back quills seared again with purpose and he swallowed nervously, battling with the idea that maybe he had been going about this the wrong way all this time.

Maybe this was it.

What if this perfectly normal afternoon was that perfect moment he had been waiting for and attempting to create all along. He was never happier than when he was with her, cherishing even the most mundane moments so maybe this one was their moment.

They were together, alone and happy – how much more perfect could it really be?

“Do you want to know what I was day dreaming about?” he asked a little too quickly, completely ruining the casual air he was aiming for as he stood and made his way towards her.

She tracked his every movement with her trained eyes, dipping her head in a simple nod – a request for him to elaborate.

“I was dreaming of a world where you said yes,” he said coyly.

Her forehead dipped into that enticing frown again, forming a small valley between her brows as she stared up at him. “I don’t understand Silver. Yes, to what?”

Silver took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. It was now or never. He reached forwards, taking Blaze’s two hands in his own as he guided her up onto her feet and into the strip of sunlight streaming through the window.

Her eyes widened a fraction as he dropped onto one knee, her hands still warm and comforting in his.

“Silver…” she breathed.

“Blaze,” he said, swallowing down the nervous lump in his throat. If he was going to do this properly, then he was going to need a little distraction. “Will you consider sharing your desserts with from now on?” he said quickly, the edge of his lips quirking into a smile. “Dessert is my favourite and you never finish yours anyway.”

“Oh, Silver,” she chided mockingly, pulling him back into a standing position with an airy laugh. He had a little height on the cat, enough for him to have to tilt his head down to look at her. “You had me thinking you were going to ask something important. Of course you can share my desserts silly.”

“Hey,” he said a little offended. “Desserts are a very serious business I’ll have you know.” He watched her smile reach her eyes before she noticed it – the glowing teal orb hovering just over his shoulder.

Blaze froze mid-laugh, watching the glowing orb in wonder as it circled the pair of them once before drifting down to occupy the sliver of space between herself and Silver. Her eyes flitted between the orb and the hedgehog in a mild panic, the fake out clearly catching her off guard as he dropped to his knee once more.

“Silver is this real?” she said, voice hushed in disbelief as the boy released a hand to catch the ring floating between them. A single gold band held an emerald cut diamond that caught the light just so as Silver held it up to Blaze.

“Blaze, Queen of Sol and eternal marvel of my soul … I don’t even know if I’m technically allowed to ask this,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “Having Gardon bark all that royal etiquette stuff at me is going to be a nightmare.”

Blaze squeezed his hands once, quick and gentle. “Ask,” she whispered. “Please … just ask.”

Something jumped in Silver’s chest at the warm longing he beheld in her eyes. A longing for him, for them. He obliged her request as much for her as he did for himself.

“Blaze, will you marry me and make me the happiest and luckiest man to have ever lived?”

“Yes,” she whispered, falling to the ground before him and pressing her forehead to his. Their noses knocked together clumsily but neither of them could care less. “I will you marry you in this world and every other that exists … I will marry you,” she repeated softly, a smile in her voice.

“Really?” he asked, looking more than a little stunned that it had truly been as easy as asking. She nodded and pulled back, letting Silver slip the gold band onto her finger.

Silver tried to commit the moment to memory but as he held onto the hand of the woman he loved he already knew there wasn’t a hope in the world that he would forget this. This surreal moment would be burned into his mind, engraved into his very soul – marking this moment forever more.

Blaze admired the ring for only a moment, refusing to relinquish her hold on Silver’s other hand before she reached up and placed the hand with the ring gently against his cheek, the cold band of metal soothing against his warm skin.

“Am I still daydreaming?” he asked out loud.

Blaze kissed the question off his lips and he got his answer.

Nope.

He was definitely not day dreaming anymore.

...xxx...

Thanks for reading guys, feel free to drop me your thoughts if you can.

Hope you enjoyed todays [very loose] interpretation of the theme, DREAM. Just a quick heads up folks that this will be a sad boi hours free zone – there’s plenty of that good ol’ stuff around already, so we’re keeping this particular story to strictly fluff and low-key drama only.

Thanks again for reading and I’ll see you in the next theme, chao for now :)

[i4z-0892-il]

Sweet Like S’Mores

Author: Jena @i4z-0892-il

Summary: Y/n convinces Sam to go Camping with her.

Pairing: Sam x Reader 

Words: 4,104

Warnings: None, it’s disgustingly fluffy

A/N: For @one-shots-supernatural‘s Autumn Challenge, my prompts were: S’mores, Camping and Chilly Nights

If you like my work consider buying me a Coffee, or leave me some Feedback! 

Tag List

Masterlist

It was Y/n’s most favorite time of the year, the weeks where Summer lingered in the heat of the day, and Autumn crept in at night replacing the warmth with a brisk chill. The floral perfume of blossoms in their twilight mixing with the satisfying crispness that loomed in around the edges. It was her favorite time for camping, swimming and partying, then as dusk settles, warming up by a bonfire and telling creepy stories to spook friends. She hadn’t been camping leisurely since college and that was many years ago, but when Sam mentioned it in conversation she couldn’t get the idea out of her head. It settled in the back like an itch until her mind was positively swimming in it and yearning desperately for a much needed break.

“C’mon Sam let’s go, it’ll be fun! Like a vacation.” She pleaded with a pout as he hunched over his desk full of books and papers contemplating whether or not sleeping in the woods, exposed to god only knew what was even remotely a safe idea, let alone fun, and she could read it on his pensive face clear as day. “I’m surprised at you. You’re Sam Fucking Winchester, you don’t think you can survive a few days in the woods?”

“I’ve never been camping, last time I did anything like that we were hunting a Wendigo. Not exactly what I’d call a good trip. No wait I take that back, Dean and I slept in the woods once, without a tent, or sleeping bags, or food. Does that count?” He sassed with a tilt of his head while leaning back in his chair. Camping might have been something he’d have enjoyed were he not bred in the hunters life. There were too many things out there in the dark, and to be out in the open with nothing but a paper thin tarp protecting him from the things that lurk didn’t exactly sound like fun. She shifted on her hips, arms folded over her chest, and lips pursed, it was already a battle she was losing and he couldn’t help but flash a dimpled smile at her in her frustrated state. His grin was quickly wiped away when he saw the light-bulb flick on in her head changing her whole demeanor.

��You’d be with me.” She cooed sweetly as she strut around the desk with cat-like grace, trailing her fingers along the length of his arm and over his broad shoulders leaving gooseflesh and pulling a growing smile to his lips. “We’d be all alone.”

She punctuated her reasoning with ghost light kisses starting from the juncture of his jaw and ear down until there the fabric of his button up got in the way, where she nipped at the sensitive flesh. “No one to bother us, nothing to hunt. We’ll drink, and hike- go skinny dipping in ice cold water.” Her voice was low and intimate and just for him. His eyes fell shut as she ran her hands along the hardened muscles in his back, over his shoulders and down the front of his chest where her fingernails grazed with just enough pressure to send pleasured tingles down his spine. His head tipped back to rest against her shoulder, while giving her better access to the long graceful lines of his throat. “Maybe play truth or dare like kids, and I can show you the proper way to make s’mores.”

“S’mores, huh?” Sam swallowed focused on her hands venturing further down his stomach agonizingly slow, instinctively rolling his hips into her palms. “That does sound fun.”

“It’s settled then, we’re going.” Y/n enthused breaking away with a pat on his shoulder, a quick peck on his cheek, and a victorious grin on her lips. All he could do was sit upright in his chair and watch as she wasted no time skipping out of the War Room to dart down the hall destroying any and all hint of intimacy and temptation; leaving Sam abruptly disappointed, flustered and shifting uncomfortably in his seat needing to readjust and process.

The hike to the spot on the map while long, was beautiful, thick and lush. The changing seasons had only barely touched the trees, still full of multi-colored leaves in every warm shade from golden yellow to rich exotic burgundy. Warm rays of yellow light streamed hazy through openings in the canopy pooling on the ground and ever changing in the shift of the wind through the trees, each one like a surreal portal between worlds.

“You sure you know where you’re going?” Sam quizzed as she paused to look around trying to compare where they were to where they were going. He knew that face, he’d seen it a million times when she tried to work through something in her head, brow knit, lips pursed into a pout, off in her own little world.

“Yeah, yeah I know.”

“Then what’s with the face?”

“I’m not making a face.” Y/n frowned and answered quickly turning on foot and continued, dragging a cooler behind her. He smirked and shook his head adjusting the shoulder strap on his backpack as he followed behind her choosing to trust her judgment, entertained by the scrunch of her nose when she was focused. “Should be around here somewhere.” She muttered to herself. Finally the treeline broke into a small open field lined with dense forest, large Oaks dotting the land sporadically, and a lake with a short sandy beach and a pier. “See? I told you!” She announced triumphant as she marched into the clearing, arms stretched out soaking up the warm sunlight as she pulled in a deep breath of fresh air.

Sam smiled as he watched her enjoy herself, but he still wasn’t as sold on the idea as Y/n, not quite ready to let his guard down. It wasn’t exactly his idea of fun to sit out in the open an easy target for whatever lurked in the shadows, but it made her happy, happier than he’d seen her in years and he figured it was more than worth stepping out of his comfort zone. So long as they made it out in one piece. Following her further into the clearing to one of the giant oaks where she dropped her things he slipped his bag off his shoulder.

“Okay, so first thing’s first- set up camp..” She expressed with an elated and genuine smile, he hadn’t seen her smile like that in so long that it made the two hour hike worth it in an instant and it made his heart skip a beat. They unpacked quickly and made short work of setting up the tent, even though he mostly just watched Y/n put it together providing a helping hand and moral support where he could. Theoretically he knew how to set up a tent- it was simple, but in practicality and having never set one up himself, it proved another story; there were tarps and poles, and stakes and zippers. Instead he put offered to put together logs for a fire.

Y/n knew what she was doing and had no complaints about setting up mostly on her own. It took her back to a time when she was younger, and less angry with the world, back when this was a regular outing for her and her old friends. Set-up put her in a contented place, but how could she not be with Sam looking at her like he was. Soon enough her focus shifted from him, busy humming to herself, bobbing her head happily to the music in her mind as she strung long bendy poles through slots in the canvas, he couldn’t recall a time he’d seen her do that.

Seeing her now in an element more intimate than any he’d ever seen at the bunker or on the road. There were glimpses of it, of her, behind the brave face they all put up daily, little peeks through the curtains to the girl behind. A girl who was in love with the stars who could sit out in the cold with nothing but a beer in her hands mesmerized until the sun began to peek over the horizon. A girl who could live in the trees and be content for the rest of her life, a whimsical and enchanting spirit who should have been something other than what she was. But what he saw there, the wiggle in her hips, and the light in her eyes was pure happiness. Clearly going camping was the right idea, even if it made him nervous, moments like that never lasted, not for them. Everything had an ending, and he knew one day they would too. Maybe it would be him holding onto her too tightly, maybe it would be because she could no longer find comfort in his arms. Maybe it would happen because they were just no longer the people they fell in love with, maybe it would be cut short by something with a price on their heads. The maybe’s drove him mad, and he found them thinking about them most often in the late night hours, her head resting on top of his chest, listening to her breathing. It kept him up like waking nightmares, where he’d pull her just a little closer, hold her a little tighter, breathe in the scent of her hair and commit the feel of her to memory. This he was searing into his brain, the tune she hummed, the sweetness in her face as she worked, the delightful prance in her step as she danced a little to her own music.

Sam pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied her, wanting only to see that look on her face forever but knowing that simply wasn’t a realistic possibility so he’d have to be content with the now. Well as content as he could be sitting out in the open, in the middle of nowhere like bait. But he’d packed for a just-in-case scenario.

The tent was set up, sleeping bags and blankets unfurled, a small bonfire waiting to be lit and the first beer of the evening cracked open.

“Okay, so what now?” He asked taking a bottle from her as she found a place on the ground beside him, his hand coming to rest heavy and warm on her bare thigh. The sun started to set, igniting the sky in a brilliant blaze of pink and orange and red, turning everything golden with evening hue. Y/n dropped her head against his shoulder letting out a satisfied sigh, and he pressed his lips into her hair, allowing himself to relax just enough to appreciate the majesty of just being there with her, and watching the show in the sky over the lake. Just another perfect moment he’d play on repeat in his head forever hoping she would too, and it would be enough to keep her just a little longer, to push that deadline for the back just a little further.

“Now we do whatever we want.” She said with a grin, nudging into his shoulder. “Oh! We can go for a walk, there’s supposed to be an old summer camp not too far from here, hasn’t been used in like thirty-some years. Might find something neat stashed away in there.”

“I’m game.” He answered but neither of them went to move immediately, instead opting to enjoy the ambiance and the sunset for just a while longer, long enough to finish their beers. The flaming red and peach sky slowly began to paint royal purple and blue, and with the sun gone so was the summer warmth, giving way to a chilly autumn breeze.

Y/n tugged a light jacket over her shoulders relishing in the weather still warm enough for shorts, but cool enough for an added layer. It was simply another one of her favorite things and filled her to the brim, she couldn’t have hid the giant smile on her face if she tried. Sam pulled his pistol from his backpack as he watched the grin on her face spread like wildfire and wondered if her smile was a reflection of who she was before. Before she was sucked into the life. Genuine smiles, and pleasure were a rare commodity, they weren’t afforded these little moments of bliss anymore. They had seen and done, and been a part of too much.

“So you really enjoy this camping stuff, huh?” Sam inquired as he tucked the gun into his waistband.

“Yeah, I used to own a whole lot more than this stuff too. And this is my favorite time of the year to go. The air just smells different like its electric and you can just feel it in your bones.” Y/n explained her excitement bubbling over and spilling into her voice. Then she cocked her head and looked at him quizzically. “Wait- did you bring a gun?”

“What? No.” Suddenly he was caught like a deer in the headlights sputtering through his answers. “Yes.” Shaking her head she walked over to his pack and unzipped it to find an arsenal. Salt, salt rounds, a sawed-off, silver and iron bullets, holy water, a silver knife, and her tiny handgun, everything they’d need for whatever came out of the woodwork. Turning  her eyes from his bag to his face, who could only look at her like a kid being caught with a dirty magazine, guilty, and embarrassed, she let out a delighted and amused laugh.

“I didn’t expect you to come naked but don’t you think this is a bit overkill for a three day vacation? I mean, it’s just a campsite, Sam. There’s plenty of empty woods out there.”

“That’s just not our luck, and there’s no harm in being prepared. I brought yours too.” He answered matter-of-factly, reaching in he picked up her pistol and offered it to her. Zipping his pack up she grinned, and traded him a flashlight for her gun. It was just another little thing that she loved about him, his strategic mind and a contingency plan for every possible outcome; it made her feel safe and secure with him, knowing that whatever was thrown their way he had her back, and with Sam at her side she could face anything. She tucked her gun into her the waistband of her jean shorts and turned on her flashlight bringing it to her face.

“Okay Venkman, are you ready to go check out the spooky camp?” Y/n snarked, Sam rolled his eyes and extended a hand for her to lead the way.

“After you, Spengler.”

The further into the abandoned Summer Camp grounds they walked the more familiar it seemed to Sam. His brow knit in thoughtful confusion as he stopped in his tracks his flashlight scanned around him. Y/n turned not hearing the crunching of ground behind he anymore, when her light landed on his face she frowned.

“What is it?” If he felt there was something wrong she’d believe it in an instant, when a Winchester flinched- you fucking flinched too.

“I feel like I’ve been here before.”

“You’ve been to a sleep-away camp? Did your underwear get strung up a flagpole?” She inquired teasing him with a puckish grin and cocked brow, receiving nothing but a bitch face and a quick shake of his head.

“No! “

“Okay! Just asking!” She put her hands in the air defending herself, but the sly grin was still present on her face. That satisfied shit-eating-grin never failed to make him want to take her small frame, slam her up against a wall and tease her as much as she did him. Usually he might have were it not for the distinct nagging feeling in the back of his head.

“Where’d you say we are?”

“Uhhh… Diamond Lake? No,” she tapped her cheek searching for the right name in the archives of her brain. ”Oh- Crystal Lake!”

“Camp Crystal Lake?”

“Yeah? Is there something you know that I don’t?”

“No, I just… I could have sworn I’ve been here before.” He answered still conflicted and unsure, unable to put his thumb on exactly what it was, but brushing it off knowing he’d never heard of it before. Y/n strode to him and took his hand in hers with a squeeze, pulling him back to the current moment, a sweet smile painted on her perfect lips.

“You wanna check out some of the cabins, see if we can’t jog your memory.” She suggested with a mischievous look.

“Or we could go back to the tent and you could show me how to properly roast a marshmallow.” He offered instead.

“Why Sam Winchester, I’m surprised at you. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were scared.”

“Pfft… I’m not scared. But I’ve seen how this movie ends- it’s all fun and games until a some guy in a hockey mask  comes out of the ground and tries to kill us.” He answered good-humored, her brow furrowed taken a little aback by his response.

“Wow. That. Was oddly specific, Sam. It’s also the plot of every Slasher movie ever.” Y/n grinned turning on her heel to comply with his request to go back and toast some marshmallows, which admittedly was a much better idea than sloughing it through some dusty old cabins. Fingers laced in his she continued on her train of thought.“Y’know, If something were to happen I’m thinking more Evil Dead or Cabin in the Woods, less Michael Meyers or that other guy with the machete and the mommy issues.”

“Right, Necronomicon, that’s a much better alternative.”

“Hey, ghosts, ghouls and demons I can handle that’s a regular Friday for me. But if you’re right, you can handle the hulking-psycho-murder-machine. Besides babe, I’m sure you’d just look so good doing it too.” She teased. “Oh I can practically see it now.”

“You’re a regular comedian.”

“I’m serious, you could be in one of those movies, you’d kick it’s ass.” Y/n winked at him, and he shook his head, rolling his eyes, an undeniable heat blushing his cheeks at her compliments.

“Well thanks. You’d make one bad-ass Final Girl yourself.” He offered in response pulling her to his side and draping an arm around her shoulders. A proud and flattered grin crossed her face.

“Why Samuel, you just know exactly what to say to a girl, don’t you?”

Maybe he wasn’t so great at setting up a campsite, but a fire he could do in his sleep. There was no telling how many he’d lit growing up, most of them on purpose but there were numerous times that he and Dean found themselves getting in trouble for being curious little pyromaniacs. The bag Y/n was struggling with finally popped open as he took a spot next to her on the blanket. She speared a marshmallow with a long, thin silver pole and handed one to him, before putting hers over the open flame.

“So my two favorite ways to get a perfectly gooey marshmallow are to either catch it on fire and let it burn enough to blacken and caramelize the outside just enough that you can pull the shell off and the inside is all melty and hot and squishy.” She explained, as she took his hand guiding him to the perfect spot, and he was fixated on her face, lighting up with the flickering fire and beautiful. “Or, you can just hold it over the flame until it’s nice and golden brown.”

Fishing through one of her packs she pulled out a chocolate bar and pack of graham crackers, and two more beers. She cracked one hand handed it to him trading his silver pole for it, the marshmallow on the end catching fire. Pulling it away from the open fire and closer to her face she watched it for a few more seconds until it bubbled black on the edges and blew out the flame. Then she pulled on the charred part the whole outside shell coming off smoothly leaving the soft sticky center. Sandwiching the marshmallows with chocolate and cracker she squished it all together and handed it to Sam. It was sweeter than he was used to, the kind of sweet that could make your teeth hurt, but there was no denying that it was a deliciously decadent treat.

“Wow!” He approved, and she beamed ear to ear.

“Can’t believe you’ve never had one before.” Y/n said popping the top off of her bottle, and making her own S’more. “I remember making these every single time we went camping. It was kind of a special thing we only did went we went, I mean it’s not like we had a whole lot of reason to make them otherwise. Too messy for any other occasion.”

“You used to go with family?”

“Mhmm, used to take a trip once a year to Skyline in the Blue Ridge Mountains. And then when I was in college my friends and I would go practically every other weekend until it got too cold.” Y/n answered. There was a tinge of sadness there, she didn’t speak of her past much, no family left that she knew of. But she would find herself wondering if any remaining friends from her past thought about her, or wondered what happened to her like she did them, too afraid to go find out for herself lest she bring danger to their doorsteps. Things were different now anyway, she had a family with Sam and Dean and Cas now, and that was enough for her.

Sam cleared his throat, he hadn’t wanted to trigger her into taking a sad walk down memory lane, he wanted that beautiful smile back on her face. So he turned eyes up to the sky now dark and captivating with billions of glittering lights.

“There’s Aquarius.” He pointed, her attention following the length of his arm, a grin returning to her lips.

“The red one in Libra is Mars.”

They talked Astronomy for more than an hour, and the fire began to die out but they didn’t care. The chill set in and Y/n curled into Sam’s side, and he held her there tight, her head resting against his shoulder grateful that he just radiated heat. They continued to direct each other to a new constellation, or planet, or shooting star, until the fire had shrunk to practically nothing, serving now only as a source of light.

“Thank you for coming out here with me.” She stated turning her head towards him, breath catching in her throat at the sight of the small fire casting dramatic shadows over his angular features. Sam’s pink lips curling into a smile carving a dimple in his cheek as she tucked a long loose strand of brunet behind his ear. Fingertips tracing a line down his jaw and along the cords in his throat coming to rest at his clavicle. Sam’s large hand slipped around her neck resting at the base of her skull, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her soft lips.

“I love you.” He whispered into her mouth. Y/n pulled away to look him in the eye, her own surprised and suspended in disbelief. They had told each other in many different way that they loved one another. In fresh cups of coffee, in small touches, in sharing meals and drinks, and laughs. They said I love you by telling each other to be safe, by stitching them back up and taking care of each other. They said I love you without saying the words, having only said them less than a handful of times their entire lives. It was the first time he’d said it out loud to someone other than his brother or Bobby, and she knew that. He was taking a risk saying it, he knew she loved him too, but she was just as battle hardened as he was and he’d never heard her say it, not to anyone, reserving it only to the confines of her mind, and he wasn’t expecting her to say it then. But when he was looking at her in awe, like she was the Sun and the Moon and all of the Stars in the sky…

“I love you.” Y/n answered, throwing her arms around his neck, locking him in a passionate kiss as she threw him off balance and he landed on his back, taking her with him.

[still-finding-our-way]

N17, N16

(SX 742760) 28/11/ 2020

I am slow to write about this walk. For days after, whenever I close my eyes, visions arise, vivid and intense. Spooling and searing under lids, I need time to process what feels like a profound experience. Hallowed and spiritual, time distorted, surreal and dreamlike, we are moving through a white space, still without a whisper of wind. Silence magnified. The sighting of a magnificent raven perched on a boundary wall, silhouetted against the gloom, statuesque and blacker then coal. Its eerie caw, rasping, cuts through the stillness. We watch, still and wordless, spellbound by its presence, reluctant to peel away to continue on our journey. The sighting feels totemic. This is the ravens space, not ours. 

Jennie points out a tiny plant no more than finger height amongst the moor grass, dew drops suspended, crystal cut on delicate limbs—it radiates amongst earthly hues, no seasonal decoration able to match its completeness. Stripped back to the elements, away from noise and distraction, the high moor often feels otherworldly, now swathed in thick fog, visibility reduced to less than a few metres, the landscape is positively alien. Spatial perspective has dissolved and we are suspended in a colourless void. A place where there is no middle or far distance, no front, back or sideways, no horizon or sky. Only the here and now. Just us, breathing in whiteness, the sound of boots trudging. For all we know we might have slipped through a megalith portal, crossed over a time and space threshold and be walking in a different dimension and reality. 

My eldest daughter Libby joined us on this walk. All three of us seeking relief and respite on the moor and in each other’s company; vital therapy for shaking out the suffocating insularity caused by the lockdown restrictions. As with Jennie’s children and my own, Libby grew up with parts of Dartmoor as her extended playground. Now, as an avid climber, she regularly searches out the moor’s rocky outcrops to boulder and climb with her partner Harry. No doubt under normal circumstances—not being pregnant and having clear visibility—she would have confidently strode out and led the way. Today however, engulfed by a swirling nothingness, unable to correlate the symbols on the map with the surrounding terrain, the compass becomes our only reliable guide. 

Navigating through murky liquid water requires an act of faith. Follow the flickering red arrow, trust the magnets and the unseen. Our belief rewarded by staying on course. Landmarks marked on the map: Rippon Tor, Logan Stone, Buckland Beacon, Pil Tor and Top Tor, loom out from the grey miasma, yawning great slabs of granite, alien rock sculptures, moulded and defiant. It felt miraculous. All this despite my erroneous route planing. X may mark the spot but as we found out, almost to our peril, the links between the X’s do not necessarily follow a neatly drawn line on the map. 

The walk was designed primarily around visiting Buckland Beacon, a Tor which stands 1,253ft (382m) above sea level and which Jennie had discovered hosts two slabs of stone carved with the 10 commandment’s from the Christian bible. Given our religious upbringing, exposed to the spiritual fervour of Pentecostalism, we wondered how we had not heard about the stones before.

A quick scan of the internet reveals a family who had made money through the Greenall Whitely brewery established in the 18th century in the North of England. An enterprise enabled by the seismic cultural and economic fallout from the industrial revolution. Flicking from page to page I quickly spiral into a story about commercial enterprise, the expansion of capital, wealth, political influence and private education, the tentacles of which reach Devon through the brothers William and Herbert Whitely, who moved to the county in the early 20th Century. William Whitely became lord of Buckland Manor, buying up land and a number of surrounding farms with the help of his younger brother, Herbert. As a staunch protestant and traditionalist, William commissioned local stone mason W. A. Clement to engrave the ten commandments on two slabs of granite on the south face of the Beacon in 1928. The inscription was a celebration of the Parliamentary ruling that rejected proposals to revise the Book of Common Prayer, and included the dates when the bill was passed and an eleventh commandment for good measure.

Meanwhile, the younger brother, Herbert had been busy building a menagerie on his private estate near Paignton, acquiring all manner of exotic plants and animals. In 1923 he opened his collection to the public as Torbay Zoological Gardens, a venue that later became known as Paignton Zoo. I read with interest that Herbert had a particular penchant for blue, collecting and breeding blue animals and plants. The most precious hue in nature, not really a pigment but an interplay of light on feathers, wings, skin, scales and exoskeletons. Blue is not an earthly colour, it has to be extracted from stone or made synthetically and as such has been much prized in history. The deep blue pigment 'Ultramarine' favoured by the great Italian renaissance painters, Raphael, Botticelli and Titian, was ground from the semi-precious mineral ‘Lapis lazuli’, which translates from its Middle Eastern roots as literally ‘blue stone’. Mixing and blending, accruing and containing. Blue became the colour of royalty and divinity. Peacock feather, delphinium, cerulean and the deepest indigo. A slick of blue eyeshadow drawn across Cleopatra’s brow to seduce an empire. Virgin blue, alchemy and sorcery. Blue blood and blue beard. The rich and powerful scoring words into stone and hoarding natures treasure.

Reading the inscription on the stones unearthed long forgotten memories from childhood. Stories flooded back about the wrath and vengeance of the Christian old God ‘Thou shalt have none other gods but me … I the Lord thy God am a jealous God’. Seduced and softened by modern liberalism, a new religion where, on the surface at least, we are expected to cast no judgement, the language felt controlling and finite, limited and at odds with the fecundity of the moor, which even in the deepest winter is alive. You can feel and smell the aliveness, folding and churning, a living entity. Leaf mould and dung, symbiosis, copulation and predation; the parasitic and endophytic, plant and animal and the in-between. Everywhere sprouting and spewing fungi, mulching and mashing. Names that weave story and folklore into identification of plant and fauna, marking out the deadly and the vision inducing: Witches butter, Yellow brain, Ink cap and Velvet shank. The moor speaks to an earthly spirituality, synthesising and composing, living and dying, a life renewing continuum. I take heed of myth that reflects the biological life cycle as found in the ancient trinity of the Hindu deities: Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva—forever creating, maintaining and destroying. Alive and dead, my skin catches on the shards of granite, grains of quartz and feldspar, mingling with micro-biological lifeforms, bacteria and my own spiralling blue-print contained in DNA. 

The commandment stones are no match for the elements or the passing of time. Eaten away by lichen and eroded by the onslaught of weather, the words have to be regularly chiseled to stop them disappearing altogether. A hundred years passing, not even a heartbeat in geological time. Rooted in pre-history and borne out of fire and fusion, the stones represent forces far bigger than the scratchings and scrubbings of men. Standing on the stones, taking the obligatory 'we were here' selfies, it is easy to dismiss the monument as archaic, the monomania of a rich and powerful man. But we arrive at the stones with our own set of beliefs, contained by ideological structures—some of which are invisible to even ourselves—that colour how we see our place in the world. We talk comfortably about the effect of nature on the body as evidenced through scientific measurement and analysis, the language of endorphins, lowered blood pressure and raised serotonin levels—but we are not so fluid in the language of the spiritual. 

Sipping hot tea, I garble about monotheism and the cultural separation of the divine from earthly realms to an abstract other place. But I am unable to grasp the right words to explain the contradiction of the stones with the surroundings. I want to say how the arrival of the three mono religions: Judaism, Christianity and Islam elevated the divine to a non-earthly domain, somewhere over the rainbow, beyond the clouds and out of reach. The earlier gods and goddesses; the spirits and deities of rivers, trees, forests and stones were all but chased out, surviving only through folklore and myth. Whilst the life renewing vitality of the deep earth became associated with devilment and hell; a place to bury the carnal and hide our earthly appetites. Out too, went the animal spirits, the totems from which to learn and draw strength from: the sharp eyed raven, the stealth of the wild cat, the strong ox and cunning snake. In separating the divine from the corporeal we created a hierarchy and dominion that placed man atop of the pile so we might touch the divine and in doing so we cut off our roots. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Bones and dirt, dirty old bones. Godliness became whiteness and purity, and heaven the only place where we might be free from earthly weights; the sweat and the tears, pain and sickness, shame and folly. You can see the attraction—the body weighs heavy, it breaks and is fallible. Our appetites always biting back. Too much and we get sick, too little and we get sick. How to to lighten the load? Psychedelic drugs, serotonin, diazepam, liquid ecstacy, shamanic rituals, prayer, hallucination, meditation, visions and dreams; a story to make it all go away.

The crown slips. The spires reach high up to the skies but bring us no closer to heaven. We are no more divine or kingly, as we ever were. Heaven was always here.

The spool keeps spinning and I can’t rewind. Each moment evaporates into nothingness. Gone. White space. Dense twisted oak and hardy hawthorn giving way to larger trees as we descend into the valley. Mosses, liverworts, fern and lichen. Leaf litter turning to thick mulch. Branches snag and catch loose hair as we duck beneath trees. Bulbous fruiting fungi wet to touch, animal. Three women: mothers and daughters and friends, traipsing down a winding road in the deepest winter. Smiling and laughing, savouring the moment. An old church, cool and still invites us in. Before we enter we study the lettering on the ornate clock face on the church tower, we think it spells ‘Dear Earth’. Later I find out Mr William Whitely has been at it again, replacing the numbers in 1931 with the letters ‘My Dear Mother’. I figure it means the same as our first interpretation. We enter the church and stay awhile. My girl waits outside, sitting on an old lichen covered bench amongst the granite gravestones, her trusted dog by her side. The old bones of Mr Whitely not far away feed the earth while she grows new bones deep within her belly.

SC