Lightning, water, and fire! Like forever before the plot starts. By the time the plot starts, the lightning and fire deities have been subjected to punishment by the two gods that picked them.

Oh (the fire deity) is first to be punished. They basically decide that since they're going to live for a long time, gotta set some long time goals! And they opt to be the wrath of the gods since most of the other deities are too 'soft' in their opinion. So Oh just. Smites humans. This isn't really a /good/ thing and in their defense mentally, they do it to help Ymber since he's the softest of them all. So their punishment by the gods is to be split in two, effectively halving the power of one into two. (Now they are in a male and a female body and use both male and female pronouns apart since they together make they but apart it feels weird to be they. But prior to the split they use they/them. Also the split bodies go by the names Ohiwe and Ohime.)

Fulj is the second to be punished. She falls in love with a mortal woman and that is a crime according to the gods. Mortals and immortals are not to be together and it will only bring suffering to both sides. So her punishment is her memories of the woman are stripped and her body basically broken to the point she can't remain physical all the time.

Ymber, unfortunately, is the one who blames himself for the discoveries and punishments. If he had only tried to restrain Oh more then maybe they would have chilled out and stopped before being punished. If he had only tried to persuade Fulj to not continue seeing the mortal woman so often perhaps she wouldn't have been punished. So he's just increasing the guilt on his shoulders every day that he remains unpunished since the elder gods have both laid down to rest. They can't enforce their laws anymore and none of the deities are keen on harming one another at this point. They just want to continue existing in peace.

11. If I can have you I can do anything

What was supposed to be a sweet release, turned into obstinate mania.

However soothing Hyungwon’s affirmations were, there was no denying; your ego grew bigger than you let yourself realize. He might kiss your stained hands, hazed your thoughts, and erased doubts for a moment, but after toe-curling ecstasy, you were left with a bitter truth.

I am a bad person.

When you got off your new-proclaimed throne it didn’t hit you right away. Your wobbly legs barely held you up, hair stuck to your face, the muscles groaned in exasperation and hummed with delight simultaneously. Probably too many sensations still occupied your body and mind; so of course, it had to be Chae’s words that put you back in reality.

- This is your sin – he said, half-laying on the bed with an open shirt and sweat-kissed skin. Then he added with a small laugh:- Pride, Miss Y/N.

How this man could take you to the highest peak of pleasure and then throw you off straight into a freezing stream of maliciousness was beyond you. But he did it, time after time, always leaving you shocked when you should already learn.

Few days passed without sign of any of the apartment’s guests. Such a restful way should give you some peace when you could focus on your job in quiet. No sudden meetings, no suspicious events, no unprofessional situations with clients – just how it worked before.

It did work before you were aware of yourself. In the past, you didn’t have to ponder on your actions, because you always believed them to be the best you could do. Now the seed of the doubt was sowed, uncertainty always behind your back questioning your true motives.

It was tiring; you wished to be a silly doe once again.

You worked slower, not so actively pursuing your guests' attention. If your manager noticed, she didn’t mention it, simply burying you in paperwork. Or maybe she didn’t want to? Maybe she’s also like me? Perhaps we’re all egocentric creatures, pretending to care, only for our own advantage, without any selflessness?

- Child, you’re spacing out again. Everything’s alright?

Or perhaps not – there may be people with personal interest, like your mother. She looked at you intently, her hands moving uneasily; she must be worried.

- Oh, yes – the answer came out automatically:- Yes, I’m okay.

As you furrowed your brows, concerned why you won’t simply voice out your thoughts, your mom managed to drop her troubles. Your short reply sufficiently good to go her own merry way.

- Good! Hurry up sweetheart or you will be late to the hotel!

You nodded, empty inside once again. Only one purpose: work.

Chae told you there was greatness in evil. How could you not believe him, swept by powerful affirmations? Such a beautiful face of his will convince anyone. Sour veracity flowing from pretty lips, drowning you in his ideals.

- It does feel good, doesn’t it? – he took a rich grip of your thighs, not urging you, just enjoying the heat of your flesh. You looked at him with a small smile, relishing in the way his manhood slid sweetly along your slick walls. No hurry, only the delectation of erotic closeness, fulness again.. having him below you, the stunning man that downgraded you.

His hands moved to your backside, coercing you to move up his shaft. Betraying his lust like this, instinctual pressure to chase the climax made you tilt your head back with a chuckle.

You sat down fully, gripping him tight with inner muscles. Delighted by male’s hiss, you placed your hands on his sweated arms comfortably.

- You tell me – you responded, voice calm as you rose and sink down again; his broken sigh already an answer, but you couldn't help yourself and had to ask:- Does it feel good, Mr Chae?

It definitely did.

At that moment, you ate his words easily. Driven by his praises, easy acceptance of your dark side, you really felt like a goddess. But that was it, just a moment; the person changing into the receptionist’s uniform wasn’t a deity anymore. Not a scared doe either – just a fool, more angered by the idea of being arrogant shrew than the fact she jumped at another’s client's dick.

The discomposure after the encounter with Hyungwon fell short of the one with Mr. Changkyun. Shame ate you alive then, now just warmed up your ears and moistened the hands. The morals? Fitfully unstable.

- Y/N, I left the shift report on the desk, take a look – your colleague chirped at the exit in a typical pink-collar worker’s voice:- There were some complaints to take care of, I know you will do your best! See you next time!

Placing the responsibilities on me over and over; you had to bite your tongue to stop the thoughts. Where do they come from? Am I always presumptuous like this?

- Uh, Miss Y/N?

- Sorry, what’s up?

- The report? – young intern handed you papers, deciding to summarize it anyway:- Guests from the third floor claimed there’s loud music coming from somewhere.

- Music?

- Ah, it’s stated here – she pointed to the last paragraph. If the hotel has musicians or any other vocalists under their roof, the curfew doesn’t work? However skilled, 3 AM piano performance isn’t appreciated.

- Probably someone’s played the CD too loud.. can we even find out who was it?

- Oh hey, something’s wrong? – Yoonho cut in, emerging from behind the corner; your eyes met briefly before he focused on the apprentice. He didn’t stay in your company for long since your silly argument – if you could call it an argument at all. Funny boy, obvious to the suddenly high-pitched voice of the girl between you.

- Loud music? I didn’t hear anything yesterday and I stayed until midnight?

Huh, so he does avoid me.

- Well.. what.. what can we do? Should we stay tonight longer too? – her voice toned down with uncertainty.

- Ah, it doesn’t make sense.. you want to sit at the stairs and pretend to just chill out?

- Probably best if we check it out personally? I mean.. maybe we will hear this wonderful piano serenade room 322 wrote about?

You cringed your nose involuntarily, third-wheeling the awful teenage romance drama. Why the heck she’s so obsessed with him was unclear. He was sweet but way too childish.. proper good-looking at the best, especially among the clients here.

- You said piano? – porter chuckled with annoyance:- Oh, no worries then, your supervisor will solve this puzzle.

Did I say childish?

Yoonho looked at you with an upturned nose. He reminded you of an offended kid; still cute, but definitely testing his limits. Who the hell he thinks he is, little shit-

This is your sin, Miss Y/N.

Wait, why am I getting angry already? It’s nothing for the God’s sake..

Pride.

Oh no, I am better than this, better than you, him and everybody here-

- That’s true – you smiled your best service’s worker smile, taking younger acquaintance by surprise:- I think I can take care of it.

*

You could hear the song on the second floor already; it felt like you were the only one, the other guests not paying any attention to you or elegant tones vibrating in the air. It was a different melody than before, accompanied by a graceful male’s voice, singing the song in a language unknown to you.

The source of the complaint was found in the emergency staircase: the duet of an old piano and young man.

- Looks like we’re meeting again, Miss – the gentleman welcomed, changing the tempo of his song to more relaxing. His white sweater matched the room perfectly; with the new line of chords, he gave off a cozy aura.

- Mr. Yoo – you bowed:- I was looking for you. Did you decide to wander here last night perhaps?

- Is that a proper question from a young lady? – he shifted on a small bench, offering you a seat. You took it without hesitation, feeling at ease in his presence. The effect of his music, harmonic vocals, and polite behavior was soothing for your soul. Exactly what you needed after the vortex of the last events.

- We had a complaint about the noise, sir. You should finish the concert before 10 PM for everybody’s comfort.

- I see.. my apologies – he slouched a bit, big glasses sliding down his nose. He stopped playing to adjust them:- I thought it wasn’t a big deal. There’s a lot of loud singing at the night here.

Frowning was enough to make him explain.

- Intense, melodic .. and greatly feminine.

You could see the rising panic in your face from the reflection in Kihyun’s lenses; he just smiled, a little, almost with adoration.

- It was very beautiful – he assured, calming you down instantly. Soothing came naturally to him – surely he meant your latest stunts, yet his short affirmation was enough to put discomfort for later. No judging, maybe even a bit of understanding. Now you could simply enjoy his appeasing company.

His fingers started waltzing lazily on aged piano keys, filling the silence.

- It made me lonely – Mr. Yoo admitted:- Music makes me feel less miserable.

- I see.. hotel is full of people, but it doesn’t matter. I am sorry to hear this, sir.

A simple nod was the only answer. Seeing the man who until now provided nothing but comfort for you in sorrow mood was upsetting. He deserved better.

You lightly brushed your shoulder against his to lighten up the mood.

- I am here now, sir. With you.

He chuckled.

- That’s what I was hoping for.

Tiny tingling danced under your ribs for a few seconds. Letting it warm you up, then quelling it out habit – you shouldn’t let the simple compliments captivate you. Why you still held to the old manners you were taught? You didn’t exactly follow them lately. Quit the act already.

- Your presence.. conciliate me – hushed words, spoke with caution:- It did last time and so do now. I am afraid I will need it more.

- I.. can help, sir. Please call reception next time, we can talk?

Kihyun laughed, shaking his head with amusement.

- Dear Miss Y/N.. this solitude is a bottomless pit, unfortunately..

His hand came to your jawline, following the path behind your ear. He touched the delicate skin with eyes full of wonder.

- It will never be enough – he stated, then added with a sigh:- I am gluttonous like this.

Nobody wants to be lonely, after all – it’s human nature. He found out your dirty secrets and might want to take his own piece of this cake, hiding it under lame excuses.. but why would he do that? How can you suspect the most courteous man in this hotel? Always polite to you, adding some smarty remarks to keep you on your toes. No pushing your boundaries though – he acknowledged your actions without any criticism.

Maybe he is just alone, wishing for someone to heal the emptiness. What’s wrong with looking for affection anyway? It’s what led you to previous encounters, too. You were touch-starved. Both Changkyun and Hyungwon made you aware of it, appeased the basic hunger, then left you to hunt for yourself.

The doe became huntress, so you closed the gap between you and Yoo with an urgent kiss. He melted with pleasure, almost as if he was waiting for your move.

- So am I – you agreed, clenching his white sweater:- I am greedy, too, sir.

- Oh I can tell – he whispered with a snicker, staring at your moving hands.

The kisses became heated quickly. You were torn between admiring his foggy glasses and reddened lips. The gentleman was focused on chasing your mouth though, arms encircling your frame to close any possible space between you two. His soft touch contrast to your previous lovers, both Im and Chae more fervently urgent. Even your ex-boyfriend, your first.. however considerate he was of your virginity, his inexperience was clear. You didn’t blame him; he was a sweetheart, head over heels in love with you.. at some point at least.

Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but contemplate if he ever loved you for real. Maybe it was a stupid young crush and you stayed together out of habit, playing it safe. It looked like he wanted another type of partner inferring from his social media. No point in complaining now, you were both adults, going their own path.. his more of a party animal, yours.. well. Boring, uneventful, and stable until now; even so, still regretful.

Kihyun’s approach unlike anyone was making you feel treasured as if he was waiting a lifetime for a chance to have this moment. Hyungwon set you on a pedestal, that’s true, but he did it with mendacity, leaving you more mentally confused than before. The male beside you handled you with utter care, gracing you with a love-struck smile. You answered with a grin before you could catch yourself. What a lovely man, worthy of the best, yet he was with you and it seemed to make him the happiest.

Maybe I can honestly bring him joy, maybe I.. maybe I am not as bad as I thought of myself.

Your hands trembled, which didn’t go unnoticed by your partner. He instantly shifted to meet your eyes properly, observing your face for any kind of discomfort. His concern practically startling, given how unused you were to that level of care. Nobody paid attention to your feelings much, obvious hardship dismissed even by your own mother.

This man did on the other hand. He worried about trivial troubled gesture, despite the hollowness of his heart.

I can help; I can be virtuous, whatever Chae implied. You felt he can be wrong this strong for the first time since his arrival.

- Something’s wrong, dear?

You shook your head dismissively.

- No – you answered, grazing male’s legs briefly:- Actually, quite the opposite.

He tried to ask again, however, was silenced with a quick kiss – to stop him from questioning and to provide a distraction from sneaking hands down his trousers, towards a recognizable bulge. He moaned straight into your mouth, such a pure noise you thought of it as your new favorite sound. You needed more of this dissolute melody then and there.

Driven by a desire to take care of your sweet lover, you slid between his legs on your knees.

- Ah, Miss Y/N – blush prominent on cheeks, he still tried to play it cool:- Don’t you favor me way too much?

You shushed him, massaging his crotch that was now your eye-level. He weakly tried to pry your hands with some gentle words, something among the lines of ladies first, although it didn’t stop you.

- Mr. Yoo – unzipping his pants, freeing him from briefs and still you didn’t shy away from his heated gaze:- I want to hear you sing more..

You had your goal now. Clear purpose helping you redeem yourself.

- Please, play the piano and sing – you requested, kissing the head of his erected member. He answered you with a shaky breath, which determined he needed a moment to collect himself. Cute.

The moment he started the new tune, your tongue glided along salty skin. He faltered for a few seconds, picking up the tempo with trouble.

It made you smile; it made you powerful, once again, but at your own rules.

When Kihyun decided to sing, you swallowed him as much as you could. The vocals broke into a loud whine, fueling you to go even deeper, faster, wilder.

You could give him a piece of heaven, sneak peek into oblivion. It was possible without looking for own gain or offensive commentary. Just two people searching for the warmth of intimacy. He chanted foreign words above you out of breath, still harmonic as always and you sensed both your climaxes coming; his primal, your spiritual.

Cure the loneliness out of the pure heart. I don’t want anything, after all; just feel better.

Is that nothing? Or am I seeking for my own benefit?

The piano stuttered, chords losing original pace, throwing the song into chaos. Yoo’s voice slowed down to sinful groans with infrequent lyrics. He was close, exhalation hasty just like the thoughts coming through your head.

Am I proving Chae’s word wrong?

The piano stopped abruptly, some keys pressed together with a smash of Kihyun’s arm. He hid between his elbows and your head, uttering an uncommonly bashful cry. Bitter substance filled your mouth along with an even more savage realization.

You gulped down his cum, stunned enough to not care for typical male’s taste. Tucking him back into pants, mental nausea grew stronger every passing second. You hoped to bolt before facing him, however difficult it might be.

Pointless as expected, when your rose back again he embraced your hips with wobbly palms.

- Not so quick, Miss – sweated from orgasm, not any less handsome:- Let me return the favor.

Favor? It wasn’t a favor. Only a confirmation; you were corrupt as Hyungwon said you were. Determined to convince him you can be good simply because you couldn’t stand the insult. Too proud to admit the truth over again. Not able to accept the accusation so much it made you blow the first willing guy. Extra violation on your naughty list.

- You don’t have to – there was no use to drag the show anymore, so you opted to give up before you could regret it all even more. Kihyun opened his mouth to protest with what could be another wise-ass reply, but you beat him to it:

- We are all lonely in our pleasure in the end.

thank you for reading

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Never Let Me Go: Part 1 of 2

Summary/Author's Notes: Confession time. I have been @stevieharrrr 's "Daily Carrillo Thirst Anon" for some time now. Y'all seemed to really want this! So, after some idea bouncing, friendly threatening, and overall caps-lock screaming at one another, this is my poker chip that I am raising Stevie in the Carrillo feels war. (This takes place in season 2... episode 4)

Pairing: Col. Horacio Carrillo x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ -- SMUT, oral f!receiving, fingering, THICC CARRILLO ARMS/HANDS, language, violence, CHARACTER DEATH (I'm not kidding with this one y'all, I know it fucks me up when I read it in fic so you have been warned.) Cannon-divergence, this is a FIX IT FIC, if that makes you feel better. Gif by @el-cheung

And the questions I have for a sinner like me

But the arms of the ocean deliver me

MASTERLIST

Being married to Horacio had never been easy. You had lost count of the number of times you had moved, the number of houses you both had tried to make a home, and the number of times you had almost thrown in the towel. The key word being almost.

Colonel Horacio Carillo was a man's man. If anyone opened up a dictionary and looked up the word 'brave', a picture of your husband would be underneath. Along with the word reckless, cunning, ruthless, and a whole slew of other things that his superiors like to throw in his face when something didn't go according to plan. His strong resolve kept the underlying volcano of his rage carefully under wraps. And if you asked the man himself, he would attribute it entirely to you. According to him, the moment he put that ring on your finger was the moment he had a reason to not give in to his unbridled savagery, his desire to get the job done no matter what it cost. And so far, you were okay with that. You could play the dutiful wife on the sidelines, you could be his anchor, because as soon as his feet crossed the threshold of your home, he was no longer Bogetà's Atlas. He finally got to take all of Columbia off of his shoulders and fall into your waiting arms.

And that's the reason when you received the call that he would be working late for the third night in a row, you decided to do something about it. Hanging up the phone, you got dressed, pulling that small floral print dress that he loved so much over your head. You shimmied it down your ass and it just ghosted the middle of your thighs. The small pink and red flowers on top of the wispy white fabric made your skin look softer somehow, grabbable--at least that's what your husband had told you the first time you wore it out to the farmer's market. You picked up the phone again and called in his favorite take out from the small shop around the corner, balancing the receiver against your shoulder as you put on a touch of makeup and a bright pink lip stain.

By the time you arrived, the precinct was winding down for the night. A few of the regulars were standing around, and there was a general uneasiness in the air. Your high heels clicked against the laminate floor and it sounded way too loud, making you second guess your apparel.

"Mhm, what's that smell?"

Javier Peña turned from his pair of desks as you made your way across the office with the bag of takeout hanging over your forearm, your car keys jingling in your hand.

"Good evening, boys," you gave a small wave at the two DEA agents and continued on your path.

"Where's mine?" Steve Murphy, Javier's partner asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Sorry, Steve," you laughed softly, walking backwards a couple of steps. "Next time, okay?"

"Carrillo's a lucky son of a bitch!" Steve called after you and you shook your head feeling your cheeks blush. Javier mumbled something undoubtedly crude under his breath and Steve elbowed him in the ribs drawing a grunt from his partner before they both sat back to work.

Boys. That's what the two of them were and you weren't sure how Horacio put up with it all day. You raised a hand and tapped your knuckles against the glass bearing your own last name.

"Come in."

His voice made your shoulders relax. You let out a breath that you felt like you had been holding for the last three days, and walked into his office, closing the door behind you.

Colonel Carrillo looked up from the stack of papers on his desk and his eyes widened. Clearly expecting literally anyone but you to walk through his office door and it was humorous just how quickly his stoic persona melted in front of your eyes. He stood up abruptly, taking off his glasses and saying softly, "Mi amor?"

"Hey," you said, setting the to-go bag on a clear spot of his desk. "I thought you might be hungry."

"You didn't have to do this," he said, still looking surprised that you were actually standing in front of him. He stopped down as you offered your cheek to him and he gave it a small peck.

"I know."

"Ernesto's?" He raised an eyebrow and looked into the bag, inhaling deeply.

"Mhm," you nodded, reaching in and taking out the styrofoam boxes one at a time.

Carrillo rubbed his chin, looking you over slowly before shaking his head with a grin. "Thank you." He walked around the desk slowly, twisting the string on the blinds to his office window until they closed fully. You didn't look up from your task of setting out dinner until you heard the firm 'click' of the lock on the door.

"Horacio?" You asked over your shoulder as he rubbed his palms together and walked back over to you.

"So we won't be bothered," he said simply with a shrug and you nodded.

"When is the last time you ate?" You asked, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"I had coffee this morning." He admitted rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You knew you were the only one that ever got to see that flicker of embarrassment in his eyes, like he had somehow disappointed you. He didn't give a damn what anyone else thought of his actions, but your opinion was always held in his highest regard.

"Coffee is not a food group. How many times do I have to tell you that?" You said, pressing your lips together in a tight line.

"Of course it is. Because you know what I'm like without it." He chuckled.

"Oh, I absolutely do," you laughed. "A bear in a uniform--"

Your hands paused on the food as you felt his large arms slide around your waist, his tender lips finding their way to the base of your neck. Was he trying to distract you from your current annoyance at his poor excuse for nutrition? Maybe. Was it working? Also maybe.

"I haven't seen this dress in awhile," he mumbled against your skin, removing one of his arms to pull your hair to the side and out of his way. He kissed his way up your neck then back down to your shoulder, soft feather light touches that made your eyes close for a brief second.

"You haven't been home in awhile." It was meant as a joke, a harmless jest, but your smile fell as you felt him tense behind you. You turned in his arms slowly, putting both hands on his broad chest. "I didn't mean it like that." You whispered, fingers playing along the collar of his army green button up. Your fingers traced the path against the embroidered name badge over his heart and you wished you hadn't said anything. The moments you did get together lately were so brief that any that weren't dedicated to loving one another felt like time wasted.

He didn't want to be gone all of the time. He made sure you knew that. The war on Escobar wouldn't wait just because one man's wife was missing him. There were plenty of men who never returned home. Escobar had left many widows in the wake of his cocaine empire and every time the man in front of you walked through the door and into your arms you thanked your lucky stars. You didn't believe in much, but you thanked every deity that might have been listening for keeping him safe.

"I know," he said, trying to give you a smile but unable to keep the sadness off of the edges.

"Come on," you said, nodding to the food. "It's gonna get cold."

"Not yet."

He kept his arms firmly planted around your waist, his hands slipping lower to take two huge handfuls of your ass. The movement made the dress lift slightly, the material bunching in his grip. You gave him a surprised look and he bit his lip, playfully waggling his eyebrows at you. It made you giggle. God, how you missed him when he wasn't home. This playful, boyish side of him that made you walk on air. The side of him that made it seem like you both were young and in love and didn't live in a war torn country.

"I thought you were hungry?" You asked as he continued his way up your neck to the shell of your ear.

"I am." He worked his way back down, kissing the tops of your breasts as he walked you a step backwards against his desk. "But not for take out."

"Even Ernesto's?" You gave a mock gasp of shock and smiled, letting your fingers card through his hair as he pulled the scoop neck of your dress down and squeezed your breast in his large hand. "I thought it was your favorite!"

"There's something I like more," he said, looking up at you with dark brown eyes, refusing to lift his lips from the mound of your breasts. It made the heat rise to your cheeks.

"Here?" You asked and as a response he reached around you and shoved a stack of files off of his desk and to the ground with a loud clunk.

"Yes. Here." His words were firm and he shoved a few books off of the desk to join the papers on the floor. He gripped your waist and picked you up to sit you on the edge of his desk, nudging your thighs open with his knee and standing between them. "Think you can be quiet, dulzura?"

"You know the answer to that," you giggled again, cupping his face in both of your hands as he closed in on you. You were not a quiet lover and he often told you it was one of his favorite things. The way you said his name as he brought you through your orgasm was his most favorite song and he liked when it was turned up loud.

You reached for the front of his dark slacks, palming the bulge at the front of his pants and he gripped your wrist with a shake of his head. "Not yet," he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed it before putting it back on the desk. He put his hands up the dress and gripped your underwear, sliding them over your hips and down your legs. The lace got tangled on the heel of your pump and you kicked them off with a shake of your foot.

"Kiss me again," you demanded with a shaky breath and he happily obliged.

His tongue slipped inside your mouth as one arm held you tightly and his other hand went up your dress. His thick fingers pressed against your labia and you moaned into his mouth as he began to run them up and down, slowly spreading your wetness. He pressed your clit and you jolted, it was too much too quickly and you gripped his neck.

"Mi amor?" He asked and when you hummed in response he continued. "Lift your dress."

You did as you were told. With excited hands and a hammering heart, he helped you pull the soft material up over your thighs, letting it bunch around your waist as he went to his knees in front of you. Those dark, chocolate colored eyes that you loved with all of your heart never strayed from your own as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. He let out a small noise of content as you ran your fingers through his hair and the noise carried over as he pressed his mouth to your aching cunt. With a gasp and your head thrown back, your hair cascading down your back, your husband would have said that you looked like a vision--if his mouth wasn't already preoccupied.

Carrillo's hands slid around each of your thighs, kneading the soft flesh and keeping them wide open for his broad shoulders to sit comfortably in the middle. His tongue slipped through your wet pussy like it had a hundred times before, but it still made you moan his name softly to the empty office around you. Your husband may have been a man of few words, but he liked to say he used his mouth for much more precious things.

He sucked each of your folds separately, a soft pop sound coming each time he moved to the next spot. When he finally closed his mouth around your clit, you gasped sharply and grabbed his hand that was resting on top of your thigh and squeezed it.

"There?" He mumbled from between your legs and you nodded.

"There. Right there."

"Right there. Mhmm, I see," he teased your desperation but continued to oblige your request. He worked his jaw against you in such a way that you imagined he was coating his face with your juices like you were the most delicious of fruits. The wonderfully crude image made your cunt twitch and he groaned.

He kept a firm grip on your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he continued to suck your clit. You wanted so much more right now. You wanted his cock inside of you. You wanted his hand around your neck. You wanted him to flip you over and take your ass. Suddenly you wished more than anything that the two of you were home so you didn't have to pick what you wanted most, you just had to pick which one you wanted first.

"Horacio," you moaned his name, rocking your hips forward gently against his chin. You bit your lip and closed your eyes, the feeling of how well he knew your body started to overwhelm you. In the years you had been together he had taken so much time memorizing every spot that made you sigh, every place that made you break out in goosebumps, and every series of movements that had you falling apart in his arms.

He loved you fully, completely, and unconditionally.

The orgasm he brought you with his mouth took you from your thoughts as you clenched your thighs around his head suddenly. "I'm cuming!" You gasped desperately just before you felt the rush of heat flood your core down through your legs. It made you bend forward over him and open your eyes, moaning loudly as you saw him looking up at you, watching you orgasm in his hands as his mouth continued to ravage your aching cunt.

"Come on, baby," he squeezed your hand, feeling you clench again against his mouth and it was too much.

"Stop, stop," you said with a shaky voice to match your quivering legs. You grabbed two fistfuls of his button up and pulled, making him get to his feet and slam his mouth against yours.

He grunted against your lips as you pushed your tongue into his mouth, greedily tasting your own wetness on him. He cursed quietly in Spanish as you pulled his shirt, untucking it from the waistband of his pants. Your hands went to his belt and you slowed down, suddenly remembering you were in the precinct.

"Do--" you swallowed hard, trying to breathe normally as you spoke against his face. "Do you have time?"

"For you? Siempre," he slid his fingers in your hair at your temple and cradled the back of your head. "Siempre, mi amor."

Always.

You blushed a little, your fingers starting to unbutton his shirt as he kissed you gently and kept hold of your hair. With each button your heart raced faster, you smiled against his lips as he slipped his tongue back inside your mouth, expertly colliding it with your own. His kisses always felt like they were going to devour you from the inside out. He kissed with such an intensity that you knew from the first time he pressed his mouth to yours all those years ago you would willingly allow him to consume you.

You clenched your thighs around his waist and let your heels drop to the floor behind him. He ran his hand down the curve of your ass and hitched your leg further up on his hip, dipping you down to lay on his desk. He grinned down at you and started to open his mouth to say something but was stopped short by a hurried knock against the glass.

"Carrillo!" Javier called from the other side of the office door.

"Go away," he returned, throwing his voice in the direction of the door, leaning down to kiss your breasts.

"Messina needs us. We got a hit off of the wire taps--it could be Escobar." There was a pause as he tried the door but it was still locked. "We gotta go!"

Carrillo's shoulders fell slightly and ran a hand over his face before helping you sit up. "Coming!" He helped you pull your dress over your breasts and started buttoning his shirt back up. "Lo siento, mi amor." He said quietly and you shook your head.

"It's okay." You bit your lip as you watched him tuck his shirt back into his pants and he hissed softly. "Sorry about that," you nodded towards the bulge against his zipper as he did his belt.

He chuckled and kissed you on the cheek, bending over to pick up your thong and held it out to you in offering. "I'm not. It'll give me something to look forward to when this search comes up empty like all of the others."

You took your underwear from him and smiled as you slipped off of his desk and put them back on. "I take it I should put the food in the fridge?"

He nodded and put his hands on his hips as he watched you fondly finish redressing. "I'll be home late."

You cupped his face giving his cheek a gentle pat and a nod. "And I'll be asleep." You smiled as best you could but you knew he could see the twinge of sadness in the corners of your mouth. The number of times he crawled into bed in the wee hours of the morning far outweighed the number of times the two of you got to go to bed at the same time.

Carrillo grabbed your hand before you could turn away and kissed your knuckles, squeezing your hand as tightly as he could without hurting you. As he walked to the door and unlocked it, he looked over his shoulder and said seriously, "I love you."

"I love you, too," you barely managed to get out before he unlocked the door and he and Javier walked briskly down the hall, leaving you to tidy up and head home.

--

When the knock at your front door came, you were already in bed and sound asleep. The oscillating fan of your bedroom was breathing a cool breeze across your body as you snuggled deeper into the comforter. The bed hugged you like it knew you better than anyone else in the world, and apart from your husband, it probably did. The knock came again and you groaned because it meant that you hadn't been dreaming about the first one.

You leaned up and pushed your hair to the side, looking at the side table that held your alarm clock and a lamp. "Fuck," you mumbled as bright red numbers told you it was almost three in the morning. Three AM? Where the hell was Horacio? You touched his side of the bed as if to confirm what your eyes were already telling you--he still hadn't come home.

The knock came again.

"Shit," you cursed again, turning on the lamp and opening the drawer to grab the hand gun that you knew was there.

The 9mm felt cool in the palm of your hand as you checked the magazine for ammo before slamming it into place and pulling the cartridge back to slide a single bullet down the chamber. You grabbed your robe and wrapped it around your shoulders, tying it tightly and hurrying across the bedroom barefoot. You saw the flashing red and blue lights outside the front room window as they ran along the walls of your home, chasing each other over and over, casting shadows on the entire room. The fact that there were no sirens paired with them made you feel uneasy--that was never a good sign.

The knock came again, this time it was apparent that whoever it was was pounding their fist against the wooden paneling of the door. Leaning up on your tip-toes you looked out the peephole and recognized the somber face of Javier Peña. You hurried and put the gun on the table in the mudroom before flinging open the front door and asking him accusingly.

"Javi?? Do you have any idea what time it is?" Your voice sounded foreign even to you. Your heart hammered against your ribs as your eyes frantically searched the two police cars behind him for your husband.

"(Y/n)..." Javier said quietly as he leaned against your door frame, one hand in the pocket of his leather jacket.

"What's wrong?" You said as he shifted uncomfortably on your doorstep. In the back of your mind you already knew what he was about to tell you, but you wanted him to say it. If he didn't say the words out loud then they would never become real. The news he was about to give you was a stone, and unless he threw it, it would never be allowed to shatter your entire existence.

"There's been an accident." He said flatly, forcing himself to look you in the eyes. You glanced over his shoulder and saw Steve leaning against the hood of the Jeep with his arms crossed, looking at the ground. The other officers in uniform wouldn't look at you either and you knew your next question was a foolish one.

"Is he hurt?" You asked in a meek voice. Hurt you could handle. Hurt you could work with. But you knew before you even opened the door tonight that hoping that he was only hurt was a faulicy that your brain entertained purely to keep you from fainting on the hardwood floor.

"(Y/n)," Javier tried again, moving his arms from the door frame as he started to put his hands on your shoulders.

"I need to see him," you blurted out as Javi's hands clasped your biceps. You tried to shove him off. If he touched you, it was over. If he held you it was all over. If Horacio Carrillo was alive then he would have already told you to get dressed and get in the car. No, comfort meant trying to diffuse the ticking time bomb that was a woman about to learn that she was a widow.

"I can't--" Javier tried and you jerked your arms out of his grasp.

"Take me to him, Javi. Let me see him!"

"I can't do that. There's nothing--"

"Shut up! Don't you dare--" you raised your hands and he was faster than you and grabbed both of your wrists, holding them to his chest. "Don't you fucking dare! Where is he? Where's my husband--"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated as you finally gave in.

He kept his hands on your arms as your knees buckled out from under you and you slowly sank to the concrete stoop. Javi followed you down, pulling you against his leather jacket and letting you scream against his chest. You would have screamed all night if your vocal cords would have allowed it. But it wasn't long before the screaming turned to sobs and the sobbing turned to silent gasps as your body couldn't seem to figure out the appropriate noise to make to express your anguish.

You felt his voice against your hair as he spoke Spanish softly in your ear. Only catching half of it, you nodded helplessly as he told you it had been a quick death, that it was no secret around the office how deeply Horacio loved you, and other forms of condolence that didn't do a damn thing to stop the meticulous tearing of your heart within your chest.

He was gone. Not even twelve hours ago he had been in your hands, against your skin, warm and alive and looking at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. And now...nothing. You felt Javi's hand in your hair as you heard Steve's boots approaching the both of you quietly and respectfully. They were trying. They had been saddled with the task of telling you because they were friends of the Colonel. But as the tears started up again and you felt Javi's arms tighten around your shoulders, you desperately wished they belonged to someone else.

--

Permanent Tag List: @stevieharrrr @zeldasayer @cosmicbug379 @winters-buck @rae-gar-targaryen @gooddaykate @jigglemiwa @seawhisperer @halefirewarrior @ripleyafterdark @phoenixhalliwell @thebakerstboyskeeper @honestlystop @lackofhonor Please let me know if you want to be added to my Permanent Tag list or of I tagged you by mistake. I have done a shit job of keeping track of the Permanent list and I am trying to fix that. ❤️

Sweetest Gift : Shingen Takeda

me before writing this : ah, yes, cute fluff time for my husbando. something i would do for his birthday? baking. i would absolutely bake something for that sexy sweet-tooth fiend.

me as i was writing this : wHEN DID WE INVENT BUTTER? WAIT I CAN USE APPLESAUCE— SHIT WHAT ABOUT CHOCOLATE? I CAN SAY WE GOT THAT FROM SPAIN. WHAT’S A 16TH CENTURY OVEN LOOK LIKE?? CREAM CHEESE IS TOO MODERN I CAN’T MAKE THAT!

not to mention i had one way that this was supposed to go and instead i took 3 devours, a u-turn, and then ended up at a different destination. bUT OH WELL.

and i finished it fairly quickly and then went to edit and what do i do? add 5 more pages of my shamelessly simping my heart out haha.

ANYWAYS ENJOY THIS SHAMELESS SELF INDULGENT MESS FOR OUR BELOVED TIGER OF KAI!

↪  GUIDELINES

✒ tags : shingen x oc, fluff, shameless self insert, we got off track and it got long

✒ warnings : n/a

✒ notif crew : @oikame​

✒ word count : 4,429

Sometimes, just sometimes, she forgot how different her time and this time was. There were things that she desperately missed about the future, but could live without them. That is until it turned out she really needed them… Particularly butter, chocolate, and an electric oven. All the things the petite girl had grown up with and taken for granted until now.

At least she had planned for this early— having that meticulous but mostly anxious drive to prepare for things long before necessary. She was able to gather all her ingredients and learn the necessary skills for the surprise she wanted to bake.

It also helped to have friends in high places though.

If it was not for Masamune and Nobunaga mostly, and a lot of help from everyone else, it might have been impossible. Luckily she had the best time-traveling ninja on her side, as well as the support of all those at Kasuyagama. It was between her and Sasuke’s uncanny knowledge of ingredients and historical markers together, as well as Nobunaga’s influence over foreign trades, that everything fell into place.

Now it was a matter of keeping it all secret. Shingen, after all, was eerily on par with Mistuhide’s tactical and informational gathering abilities. Lying outright was a definite no but without extreme care, he would find out.

Dancing around the topic was not as hard as she expected, then again being evasive or vague on certain things was almost second nature. After all, when one had four other siblings of varying ages, you had to be quick, not-quite-truthful, and convincing when it came to getting or staying out of trouble.

Any time the subject would get too close to becoming an interrogation, she would always change the subject to what Shingen wanted for his birthday. Of course, each time she was answered with another smooth but cheesy line, how he only wanted to spend the day with her. It was a heartwarming thing but she wanted to do more for him, something more than her words or the little bits of artistry she would leave for him to show her affections.

There were a number of things within her arsenal of creativity that she could do but after their trip to the future, she had kept a particular idea close.

Shingen had taken an affinity to the vast array of sweets from the future. Whether he realized it or not, she had been carefully taking notes on what he enjoyed the most. Of course, with the limitation of certain ingredients not being invented or hard to come by in 16th Japan, improvisation was necessary.

Now it only came down to what she was going to make, which at this rate seemed to be every available confection that could come to mind. 

At current, it was truffles, applesauce which was a necessary substitute, and a sinfully hopefully delicious applesauce cake from her Oma’s recipe she could barely remember. At this rate, she might continue her baking spiral and attempt the first edible glitter in the world.

When night came around, the petite girl had rushed off and excused herself to go ‘work’ to finish before tomorrow morning. That was true in part, except that work involved fighting with sugar in the kitchen.

It was probably not the best time to bake but the quiet stillness of the night was an ally. Many people by now would have retired to rest, so it made it easy to move around and do what she needed. Granted, the darkness that stretched over the land also extended into the room the girl needed. Nothing a few quaint candles could not fix nor a nice, warming, bright fire that illuminated all necessary things.

Besides the occasional hum, she was alone with herself and the night. It was far too cold now, being practically December, so there were no nightly sounds from any nocturnal companions. At most, the noises that could be heard were uncontained swears, the crunching of chocolate under a knife, and the occasional hollow ring when she stirred the mixture a little too aggressively.

“I will never call Nobunaga an insufferable asshat behind his back again,” She murmured to herself in the kitchen, “And I will forever worship Masamune’s kitchen skills, he makes it look so easy.” She paused on mixing her ingredients to brush fallen strands of her brown and pink hair from her face, the stubborn few that refused to stay up like she wanted.

She reached off to the side, her hand fumbled across the surface for the sugar. When her fingers reached the edge of the container, she rather haphazardly, pulled it over towards her. A mess she nearly caused when she underestimated the weight and almost sent sugar to dust the floors.

“Oh shit!” Luck would have it no one was around to hear such an unladylike swear to leave her. Equally lucky, she managed to balance the sugar into her arm before she dropped it.

By agreement, Kenshin and Yoshimoto were supposed to distract Shingen for the evening. Sasuke and Yukimura were busy setting things up for the celebration. And she, well she was baking in the growing darkness praying to whatever deity was listening that Shingen would not come looking for her. After all, she had told him she would be busy working and would be done very late because she wanted to spend his birthday with him.

That still did not stop her from stilling every time there was an ominous creak or peculiarly loud howl of the wind. She would pause with a tilt of her head towards the cracked door to listen for the approach of footsteps. Either able to dismiss them being nothing or that the speed and weight of the footfall were not Shingen’s and she would continue.

There were soft voices in the distance this time but too far for her to make out clearly. She shrugged and returned to her mixture. If anything, it would likely be one of the guards who found her in here when they came for a late night snack. She had run into plenty of them like that because they all seemed to have the same thought… which was just their stomach demanding food late in the night.

The bowl was put down with a thud and she turned. Her ingredients all assorted on the counter, just out of reach, with a few measuring tools lying around.

Most of which were left from the evening when she had attempted to make applesauce. It had been a mess, mostly because the help she employed was intent on making a mess rather than cooking. Who was she kidding, she threw the first fistful of sugar. Really she had asked Yukimura and Sasuke for help because it would have taken too long to peel and mash all the apples. That and the fact she hated the texture and taste of applesauce was another big thing, so she needed special guinea pigs to taste test for her before she accidentally poisoned a cake or two.

When the monstrous experiment of a cake was nestled into the oven to cook and the truffles were set aside, it was fairly late into the night.

With a sigh, the petite girl stepped out from the kitchen, and into the cool winter air outside. Brown eyes flitted across the glowing garden, covered in a light layer of powdery snow from the earlier flurry. Her fingers deftly tugged at the collar of her kimono, loosening it and revealing further skin to be greeted by the cold air.

It was a wonder to her how anyone survived before having air conditioning or heaters. Then again, she would not complain after spending so long in a room with a roaring fire. The cold was something she would greet openly but not too much, seeing as she could not get sick until after tomorrow. Still… The snow was tempting to just dive into to cool down.

She took a seat on the edge of the raised walkway, lifting her eyes up to the sky. Stars danced and twinkled, seemingly waving down at her, as clouds lazily breezed across the open sky. The half moon greeted her once again for the night, except this time further in the west, as it descended into the horizon.

That was a sign to how late it was, how low the celestial sphere dipped to signal that sunrise was not far behind its farewell.

The nice was pleasant though. The chill in the air was refreshing and shooed away any sleepiness that had threatened her in the kitchen, enveloped by the warmth of the fire she worked with.

Besides, she could sleep later. There were no rules against a nap in the morning or afternoon before the banquet Kenshin and the others had set up to celebrate Shingen’s birthday. Not sleeping was not entirely uncommon for her either. Staying up late into the night, or dare she say morning, was an old habit that was not entirely her fault. Besides, it was for an important reason she was up right now and she had to use all the time she had to finish her surprise for… well, the man who had stolen her heart completely.

Granted right now, having a break made her realize how much she would have loved to curl into his arms and snuggle against his warm chest. Steal the warmth he radiated to battle the cold she allowed to crawl over her skin.

Her head nodded down, eyes drifted close at the pleasing fantasy. Her body leaned forward and her bare feet caressed over the snow. She jumped up with a start at the sudden damp, frigidness against her skin.

A laugh erupted from her lips as she rubbed her eyes. “Okay, break time is over!” She stretched the wariness out of her bones, not daring to give in to the desire to just hibernate through the pleasant winter season, “Back to the finishing touches!” She turned on her heel, entering the kitchen once more to check on her confections.

Light began to peek over the horizon. Stars began to fade as the deep sapphire of the sky began to fade and instead bled into luxurious shades of red, orange, and pink.

The girl was quiet as she snuck through the halls, careful where she placed her feet as to not make a sound. Luckily she had memorized which boards would creak and groan under her weight after sneaking around at night so often. She made a point to avoid the creaky betrayers, especially as she began to near her and Shingen’s shared room.

A tray in one hand, she slid open the shoji door, almost painfully slow as to not abruptly wake the sleeping figure in the room with any sound.

Teeth sank into her pink bottom lip, quieting the giggle that threatened to escape her as she crept into the room. She knelt beside the futon, the dark material of her kimono pulled aside as she sat on her knees.

The tray, decorated with the special sweets, tea, and fruit was placed safely to the side.

Brown eyes fell to Shingen’s face, admiring the soft way his lips parted and how his chest rose and fell with each deep breath.

He looked so peaceful and calm, she almost did not want to wake him.

A soft smile found its way onto her lips. A tan hand delicately touched over his forehead and brushed the strands of auburn locks from his handsome features. Her loving gaze trailed over his features, following an invisible line over his lips to his jaw, down his neck, and to the exposed skin of his chest that peeked through his sleeping kimono.

The trace of a scar, even in the dimness of the room, could be seen in contrast over the skin of his chest. Unlike all the other scars his battle-worn body bore, this one was the one she was most grateful for, because it had scared her the most. Yet now it meant only one thing to her, that this beautiful and infuriatingly charming man was alive and breathing still, so she could love and adore him for many more years.

She was overwhelmed by happiness, a spark that ignited in her chest and spread from her heart to her fingers and toes. Surely she was dreaming, to have someone as wonderful as him, and to have such a chance to celebrate his life with him.

Slowly, she bowed her head. Soft lips pressed gently against the side of his temple. Warm eyes fluttered closed as her lips lingered. A small, loving smile graced her lips as she barely pulled away.

“Hey, it’s time to wake up, birthday boy,” She whispered against his skin.

Her grin stretched further over her lips as he let out a low, groggy groan. Then she was greeted by his delightfully smoky eyes. The wariness in them faded the moment those silver hues met her dark ones, brought to life with a light that she wished she could bask in forever.

“I will never tire of waking up to see my goddess’s shining smile,” His voice was rough and deep from sleep. How she adored the way in made her heart leap in her chest, eager to listen and hear more of anything he said, so long as it was towards her.

If possible, she smiled wider and stroked his hair gently. “Good morning to you too.”

The smile Shingen gave her caused a giddy feeling to take her over, a mixture of her eagerness and happiness. She should have been ashamed at how easily he made her feel like a little schoolgirl but she could hardly care with how loving that smile was.

She dipped her head again, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. A fleeting touch she almost rescinded to indulge in him deeper, but she had to behave herself.

“C’mon, sit up now, I want to give you something.” Her petite form shuffled back a bit.

“Oh, something for me?” It was unfair how sinful and tempting his voice was as he shifted up onto his arm to watch her.

The edge of the blanket slid down, further revealing a frame hidden only by a thin layer of cotton. Her eyes raked down the outline of his figure. The lazy, satisfied smirk he offered her shook her back to her senses, somewhat at least. She tore her gaze away.

It was a lot warmer suddenly. How strange.

He caught her cheek with his free hand, gently denying her escape, and forced her gaze back to him. The sultry look, focused solely on her, was enough for her to let out a breath— one she had not realized she was holding. The smoldering heat, she knew now, was what radiated off him and the sinful way his eyes glazed over her features.

 He guided her back down, joining their lips once again. The kiss, unlike before, was far deeper. His lips moved against hers in sensual skillfulness, drawing her further into him. Her hands pressed against his jaw to cup his face. The cool digits trace slowly over his skin as she drowned into him, savouring him.

It was only the need to breathe that caused them to part. Her faced flushed as her chest rose and lungs greedily sucked in air. Their gazes remained fix on each other, Shingen seemingly satisfied with how out of breath he left her. A callous thumb brushed over her lips gently.

“I do hope it’s you.” His hand lowered from her face, following the curve of her shoulder and down her arm until her hand rested in his.

A giggle escaped her as she moved to her knees, reluctantly allowing her fingers to slip from his, as she crawled away to grab the tray she had brought in.

“Well now you’ve spoiled tonight’s present,” She teased, allowing her fingers to curl into his palm, taking in his warmth.

“And what sort of sweetness would you offer otherwise?”

Her heart jumped, his choice of words seemingly all too specific. But surely she was overthinking it, right?

“I wonder what it might be.” The teasing tone and look he cast her made her flush.

How unfair he was, being so astute and observation. Her midnight snacking sampling of the truffles might have been a bad idea but she had been hungry. There was no doubt she had traces of that confection on her lips.

“You’re awful, it was a surprise!” She playful stuck her tongue at him as she shuffled away, “And I was doing so good too!” She returned to his side, “But despite that—” She presented the tray lavished with a surplus of sweets, “—I made you these.”

The way Shingen’s face had lit up with surprise and awe stole her breath. He was truly unfair to be able to make her heart beat like it did and to make her chest swell with giddy excitement.

 Grey eyes flickered up to meet her eyes. Suddenly she felt rather shy under the loving and admirable gaze. The attention and emotions fixed so intently on her made her squeamish. She fidgeted in place, tearing her dark eyes away as she sank into embarrassment, as her face flushed.

“I know it’s not huge but I know how much you loved the sweets, so I wanted to make you some that I grew up around or making. Plus you liked so many of the sweets from the future and I wanted to share that with you—” Was she talking faster, or was that her imagination? “— despite not having everything exactly at our disposal. But just to show you how much I really love you and am so grateful that you’re here so I can make them for you and tell you happy birthday.”

She could still feel his gaze on her while she frantically allowed the words to fall from her mouth. Heat rose up her neck and to her cheeks, dusting the tawny color of her face dusted over with red. 

At this rate, the way he was looking at her was going to cause her to implode on herself. Perhaps a run and dive into the snow would do some good to cool her down but she was afraid it would melt if she went near it now.

As silly as it was, his loving attention was still something that flustered her and it did not help she was confessing her feelings through words— she was only good with those when they were written, not spoken.

His callous hands brushed over her own softer ones as he took the tray from her. Fingers delicately guided her chin up to meet his gaze, one that was so soothing but tempting her further.

“And surely you are a goddess— bestowing me with such a beautiful sight and lovely blessings when I should be giving offers to you.” His lips pressed feather-light kisses from her ear to the corner of her mouth.

“Shingen!”

She let out a girlish squeal she was not proud of as his lips stole her own.

“It’s your birthday and—mph!—I’m trying to pour my heart out here!” She tried to pull away from his lips, only finding herself distracted with each time she tried to speak. She could not escape though, not unless he wanted her to, and she could not resist the flurry of affections pressed against her lips again and again to silence her protests.

When she did manage to push away, laughter bubbled from her lips, and she was met with a charming smile. How effortlessly he could make her flustered and steal it away with a touch or a kiss. She both hated and loved him for it.

“And you’re doing a wonderful job.” Fingers brushed through her unusually colored hair and lingered to twirl the pink ends around them.

“I’ll just write it in a letter, that’ll be easier than and you would have to listen to me stumble so ungracefully through it.” She covered her face with a nervous laugh.

Shingen pulled her hands away, laying gentle kisses over her knuckles as he grinned. “No, continue, I quite enjoy how cutely flustered you’re getting.” Of course, he would find her stumbling endearing. What a lovable jerk.

She huffed, trying to hide a smile, and pointed to the tray. “Stop teasing and try them!” Her order was more of a childish demand, “I slaved literally all night and you don’t even know what it took to get half of these ingredients!” It might have started out as a scolding but before she had finished, her words were broken by laughter.

“Oh, so this is that ‘very important’ work you had?” Shingen mused, a twinkle in his eyes, “And that trip to Azuchi?”

She did not have to answer, he already knew, that look said he always knew.

“You’re so unfair! I tried so hard to keep it a secret and be subtle!” She whined, “How did you know?”

“Well,” Shingen said carefully as he picked up one of the truffles, “I do now, especially after such a sweet kiss from your lips,” He offered her a smirk, “And Yuki rushed me away from the kitchen last night saying you were busy when I went looking to pull you to bed.” His amused gaze flickered from her to the confection between his fingers.

So much for subtly. She was definitely going to throw her sandals at Yukimura later for that.

Shingen popped the sweet into his mouth, allowing the sweet chocolaty flavor to coat over his tongue as it practically melted in his mouth. A satisfied hum filled the air as he reached for another one of the delightful chocolate bites.

All while the girl wiggled eagerly in her seat, an unspoken question reflected on her face.

“Delicious,” He purred the praise praised.

She sighed in relief. There should not have been anything to worried about to begin with, seeing as it was not hard to please a man who would eat anything so long as it involved sugar. But there was always that underlying anxiousness to whatever she did for him and she had worked so hard, so she only wanted it to be perfect.

A truffled was pressed to her lips, the man responsible smiling sweetly at her.

“Open,” The order was obeyed almost immediately, allowing the tasty morsel to melt into sweetness her mouth.

“It was worth all the trouble,” She mumbled from behind her hand with a smile.

It was not long before the tea and confections had been finished off, leaving the tray empty. Something she took great pride in.

She moved to grab the tray but was stopped by a hand on her wrist. In the next moment, she was pulled into a warm, comforting embrace. There was no protest from her, she only nestled into his chest and wrapped her arms around him in return.

“This was a lovely way to wake up,” Shingen hummed, his voice rumbling through his chest. Her eyes closed to listen to his heart and the soft rumble of his voice, a smile on her lips.

“I’m glad. And there’s plenty left in the kitchen. Just don’t tell Yuki I let you have some already.” She giggled against him.

“Of course not,” Shingen replied, laughter in his voice.

Now with the petite girl trapped in his arms, he fell back into the futon, which had began to cool with the absence of their warm presences.

“Wait—!” She made to protest but he shushed her immediately, lips finding her own to steal whatever complaints or excuse might befall those lips next.

Clearly kissing her into submission was his only choice. So when she broke away from the kiss, his lips immediately sought hers again, pulling her further into his warmth and inviting her to melt into him.

“I’m afraid I’m still quite tired,” The playfulness in his tone suggested otherwise, “And my darling goddess has worked all throughout the night without rest.”

She rolled her eyes. “If this is a guilt trip it won’t work. Nothing you can say will get me to stay. I’ve got more to set up for today still.”

“Oh, but it’s my birthday is it not? I can request you stay here with me and rest a little while longer. You would not deny me of my wishes on my special day, would you?” Even his pout was sensual and charming.

Brown eyes met grey ones as she looked up at him. Her glare was far too cute to be threatening and it spoke volumes to him. Apparently, he was playing the right angle and they knew it would work against her. She would never be so cruel as to deny him.

“It will be your fault if I don’t wake up for the party then—” Her eyes widened and she gave him a wary glance, “—you knew about that already too, right?”

He laughed. The sound filled the room with warmth, despite the cold outside, and vibrated through his chest, enveloping her as she hugged him.

“I did,” He replied, “So will you stay, my darling goddess?”

How could she resist such a sweet request and that roguishly charming smile?

She hid her face in his chest, “You’re so mean.” He was anything but mean, but she had a right to whine against his charm.

Fingers laced in her hair, rubbing soothing circles through the curiously colored locks. “You need your rest, I can’t have you drifting to sleep during the banquet—” A pair of brown eyes peeked up at him, “—Or tonight when I’ll indulge in the rest of my gift.” And promptly those eyes disappeared again.

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest, he could feel the heat radiate from her skin. How cute she was.

She pinched his arm in response.

“Be quiet, I’m trying to sleep,” She scolded, the embarrassed tone only barely muffled by his kimono.

“Of course, you will need it…” He paused as she settled against him, “Because you won’t be resting tonight.” His provocative tone left nothing to her imagination, he knew.

“SHINGEN!” She slapped his arm gently, face flushed red as she glared at him. That glare was anything but meaningful, he knew, because those murky, night eyes betrayed how eager she was for night to fall.

Besides, he truly wanted was her.

She was the sweetest gift after all.

Belle Quacks-Chapter 13

(TW: Mental breakdown/self-esteem issues)

Quackerjack and Bushroot walked the girls home, Quackerjack still feeling protective and Bushroot just wanting to get to know Camellia better. “Thank you guys, for helping us.” The fox said, squeezing Bushroot’s leafy hand. Quacky gave a simple ‘no problem’ where as Bushroot stumbled over his words, saying how he was happy to help and that he was glad they were safe. “You certainly talk a lot, it’s cute. You’re sweet too.” She hummed, looking at the plant mutant. He blushed, his face turning a dark green. A smirk was present on the demented jester’s cheerful face, telling them to ignore him. Camellia asked him what plant he was and to tell her more about it, spurring a lecture that caused Belle to zone out and fall asleep. Quacky happily carried her, tuning out the plant nerds. Camellia seemed happy to talk to him, smiling warmly and running a hand through his petals once in a while. Bushroot never really got to talk like this for so long, not even with Rhoda. Camellia was a lot like her in some ways, smart, pretty and kind. She was also so different, being pagan, a mammal, multiple piercings, confident and strong. The florist was honestly the most beautiful person he’d ever seen and she didn’t mind him, she liked his company. “I really love your passion Reggie, it’s something I admire. This whole thing has been fast paced and chaotic but you’re definitely a highlight.” The mutant unlocked the door and opened it for her, opting to help with Belle. Camellia was fascinated to say the least, who could blame her? Bushroot was the closest being she ever met to a pagan deity, he was incredibly sweet and he was smart, she wanted more time with him.

Belle barely stirred when she was placed on to the bed, letting out a tiny yawn. Jack had to hold his beak shut to avoid squealing at his sister. Bushroot simply ‘awww’ed as he put the covers over her. She had a long day, she was entitled to some sleep. Quackerjack then pulled something out of his pocket, a plush version of himself and a note. He placed the note on the bedside table and the plushie in her arms. “I’m giving her a little me, that way she’ll always have a piece of me or something to cuddle during a breakdown or panic attack.” He stated, kissing her on the forehead. The small, sleeping duck pulled the plush closer to her, nuzzling it slightly. The taller woman chuckled fondly, smiling at the guys. Belle seemed happy and sleeping peacefully. Quackerjack then asked where she’d sleep, instantly pushing her closer to the bed when she said the couch. “I’m sure you’ve shared the bed before, just go to bed.” He insisted. She rolled her eyes, giggling. Bidding them goodnight, she kissed Bushroot on his forehead before joining Belle. The plant had to be dragged out by the other duck, who put the keys on the side, and shook him by the shoulders. “Earth to Reggie, I know you’ve been kissed by a woman you likely think is a goddess but get yourself together.” He said, tapping his friend. The botanist mumbled something, little flowers growing from his petals and around the base of them in a flower crown like formation. ‘Goodness, he’s helpless.’ The toymaker thought, giggling at his friend. Once Bushroot snapped out of it, he looked like a full on floral arrangement. “Well, you fell for her quick. So did Morgana when it comes to Belle. Come on, let’s go.” And with that, they left.

Camellia was already awake and gone when Belle woke up, not that she minded. She was admiring the Jacky plush in her hands, giggling to herself. It looked just like him, complete with a hat secured with Velcro and a very small Mr. BananaBrain in one of his hands. Naturally, she loved it, hugging it close and kicking her legs in the air. “My own little Jacky! Now I can ask you for advice! Cammy’s great but sometimes I think I overwork her.” She said to the cuddly jester. Her eyes caught sight of an envelope on the bedside table. She grabbed it, carefully opening it to retrieve the note. ‘Belle, I thought you’d like a cuddly version of me! A special, one of a kind toy from Quackerjack Toys, just for you! This way, I’ll be there when you need me, even if I’m not there in person. Little Jacky and his tiny friend are guaranteed to light up any dark times. Love Jackson.’ It read. The message was short but sweet, making her happier and love the little doll more. She never had toys growing up, then again, neither did Jack, making this one her first one. Belle swore she’d never part with it, it was her brother after all, just small and available. “So, I’m hanging out with Morgana later, does she actually like me?” The plush fell foward, which she took as a yes. The duck giggled happily, rocking side-to-side. She got up, flapping her hands a little before rushing over to her clothes in order to pick something nice to wear. Belle felt she had to impress Morgana and she didn’t understand why or why she always felt warm or that she had butterflies in her stomach when she was around the sorceress. Maybe she was coming down with something. But how could she from just standing in front of someone and be fine until she thought about them? “Is something wrong with me?” She whispered to herself, picking out a red dress with a black belt that she forgot she had. Morgana would love her in that outfit.

It was a little out of her comfort zone but she didn’t mind, it would impress the sorceress and that was what she wanted. She looked her new doll, a little confused. “Should I wear this? Would Morgana like it?” Jack fell forward again, cementing her choice. Maybe some red makeup? A little eye shadow would draw attention to her eyes Camellia would say. Once she had the dress on, she walked up to Camellia’s mirror and just stared. What is she thinking? This dress doesn’t look good on her at all, her hair is to childish and vibrant to make it look good. The dress was also more low cut and fitted than she was used to, drawing attention to her thin frame and collar bones. She looked sick. ‘This is a mistake, I can’t wear this. But nothing would be better, it’s too hot for my usual outfit. Morgana would want me to wear something like this, surely.’ Belle held back a sob, staring at herself still. ‘My arms look like sticks. Ugly sticks, not the cool ones. My ribs are visible, that won’t do.’ She was a little thinner than average, but not as thin as she thought. Her ribs didn’t stick out a lot, only slightly. But she couldn’t help but notice them and almost every detail of her body. Soon, Camellia came running in, asking what was wrong. The fox saw her friend, fists clenched, palm and fingers down on the desk. Tears spilled from her eyes as she bit her beak, her gaze on the mirror. “Oh Belle, come on, you look great.” Belle heard as she was pulled into a hug. “E-Easy for y-y-you to say, y-you always l-look beautiful.” She sobbed out. Camellia walked with her to the bed, sitting them down. She stroked her friend’s hair, whispering to her. Belle struggled to calm down, reaching for the plush of her brother.

Camellia handed it to her, kissing her forehead. “Hey now, you’re beautiful, wipe those gorgeous eyes, Sweet.” She cooed, tilting Belle’s head upward. The look on the duck’s face broke her heart, it was pure and utter despair. “M-Morgana would w-w-want me t-to wear this, r-r-r-right?” The poor, sweet little thing, she tried so hard. Camellia wiped Belle’s eyes for her, shushing her softly. “Oh Sweetheart, she’d want you to wear what you want, you shouldn’t wear something you don’t like.” She stood them both back up, holding Belle’s hand and bringing her to the mirror. The duck looked at her reflection, still slightly hazy due to left over tears. Camellia was out of the mirror’s frame, leaving her in it. She didn’t know what Camellia wanted her to see. “Tell me what you don’t like here.” Came the soft voice from next to her. “M-My arms, t-they’re twig-like. A-A-And my r-ribs are visible.” Camellia smiled sadly at her, explaining that it was on the inside that counts. That she, Morgana and the Fearsome Four absolutely adored her. That anyone staring was just jealous of her. She was gorgeous, inside and out in their eyes. “It is important, however, that you think you’re beautiful. Tell me, what do you think?” Belle took a deep breath before focusing on her reflection. ‘I shouldn’t wear form fitting clothes.’ A voice at the back of her mind said. “It’s different, that’s good.” She said, trying to ignore that voice. ‘You’re arms are sickly, you could snap them in half. And goodness, you look like a corpse.’ That was sort of true, she didn’t look all that healthy. Still, she didn’t look as bad as she thought. “I look kinda pretty.” She whispered. “I look pretty and confident in this dress. Does it go with my hair? No, but hey, I look good.” Belle said, steeling her resolve.

“See? You always look great, remember that.” Camellia said, hugging her. Belle hugged her back, giggling. She opted to skip the eye shadow, feeling it would spur another crying session and that she didn’t need it. She did put her hair in a ponytail though, putting on some obsidian and ruby earrings to match the dress. Morgana would love her regardless, she told herself. She walked into the main room and pouring herself some cereal, Plush-Jack sitting in her tote bag comfortably. Belle listened to the music from the TV as she ate, watching Camellia set up a spell of some kind. Apparently one that’s meant to bring happiness and overall good vibes if she remembered correctly. She picked up one of Camellia’s various romance books in order to not distract her friend from her daily meditation and also to stimulate herself as she ate. It was surprisingly easy to get into and the book was well loved, clearly one of Camellia’s favourites. A calming aura came over her, making her feel that despite the rocky start, today would be a good day.

⚘ Karasuno Alumni (Daichi Sawamura)

Genre: Slice of Life, AU, Fluff, Friendship

Word Count: 3,132

Pairing: Reader x Daichi

World: Haikyuu

Prompt(s): A bought the last piece of [item] that B was about to get. / “I have nothing to lose.” / Tattoo Artist AU

Author’s Note: This was written for the weekly-prompt (08/19/20) over on @hqbookclub​ ‘s discord server – you should check it out if you haven’t It should be noted that I do not have tattoos and I know nothing about tattooing. I asked a couple different people and watched a couple videos, but it’s hard to understand if you haven’t experienced it yourself so I kinda just wrote what I imagine would take place and how it would feel. So yeah.

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You didn’t get cravings very often, but when you did, they drove you absolutely batty until you got the object that you suddenly desired so badly. This was especially annoying at midnight when all you wanted to do was sleep but your brain wouldn’t stop craving for some strawberry flake pocky which, not so conveniently, was sold only at the quick mart about twenty minutes away from your house.

With a groan, you forced yourself out of bed, throwing on whatever clothes you could find quickly as you grumbled under your breath about how much you hated your brain and its ability to act like a damn toddler. And nearly thirty minutes later, you found yourself approaching the quick mart, still grumbling under your breath, though, at this point, it was more noises than words.

The glass doors slid open, a burst of cold air hitting the top of your head and causing a shiver to go down your spine. The cashier, a young girl that should probably be in bed and not working at one in the morning, smiled brightly upon your entrance.

“Welcome!”

You nodded at her before heading toward the back of the store where your precious pocky was located. The pocky was lined up at the end of the aisle, appearing in your line of sight as soon as you turned the corner, but the lack of flavors was startling. Normally, the shelf would be packed with the treats, but they had clearly become much more popular than normal. The shelves were nearly empty, offering only a few boxes in varying flavors. Your eyes scanned what was left, praying to whatever deity you could think of that they had the flavor you so desired.

Just as your eyes landed on the strawberry flake pocky, a large hand shot out, fingers curling around the very last box before pulling it from the shelf. Time seemed to move in slow motion as your eyes trained on the box like a hawk, watching as it was placed into the plastic basket being held by the perpetrator.

The man in question was pretty tall, standing probably around five-foot-nine, and his body was well defined with muscles. You could just barely make out the tattoo of a crow in mid-flight peeking out from the collar of his sweater. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think he was attractive with his messy raven hair and dark brown eyes, but the only thing you could focus on was the fact that he had just taken the last feckin’ box of strawberry flake pocky.

He finally noticed your intense stare, turning his dark eyes to meet yours. “It’s not polite to stare, you know,” he teased, the corner of his lips twitching up.

You scowled at him. “It’s also not polite to steal someone’s pocky!”

His brow quirked at that, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I didn’t steal anything. It was on the shelf, free for anyone to take. Maybe you should have been faster.”

In your tired, annoyed state, you didn’t recognize the teasing tone he was using and took it as a challenge. When he tried to step past you, your hand shot up, palm flat against his chest to push him backward. You resolve faltered for just a moment when you felt his toned chest tensing beneath your hand, but you quickly shook the thoughts from your head. “Give me back my pocky, you jerk!”

His eyes darkened, smile turning to a scowl as he grabbed your wrist to remove your hand from his chest. You could feel how strong he was from the amount of restraint he was showing. If he wanted to, he could easily hurt you, but his grip was soft, just enough to hold you back. “Maybe if you asked nicely I would have considered it, but since you’re being so rude, I’m gonna say no. Have a good night.” He released his grip on your wrist and headed for the front of the store.

Your eyes widened a bit at his words and you realized that you were being a complete jerk. Sure, you could use the lack of sleep and your shitty day as an excuse, but it was just that – an excuse. Shaking your head, you bolted toward the front of the store, intent on apologizing to the man, but he was already gone. You could only stand there feeling like a shitty person for being so rude to a man you had never even met before.

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“Y/N!” Tsuko, your childhood best friend, burst into your dorm room without knocking and, since you were in the middle of erasing a failed equation, you ended up jumping and tearing the page.

You groaned, slamming your face onto the desk. Math was bad enough, but now you had to recopy everything because of the torn page and that did not sound like a good time for you. “How many times do I have to tell you to knock, woman?”

“Sorry~” She giggled, not sounding the least bit sorry. “I have the best news!”

You hummed as you tore the page from the notebook, beginning to re-copy the notes on a fresh, clean one. You were not really interested in whatever gossip she had to offer this time because this was a regular occurrence with her and it was mostly about other student’s relationships.

“Okay, so,” she plopped down on the side of your bed. “I met a guy in class today that knows Anne, you know, the exchange student from the states, who is good friends with Ako, that really cute football scholar in his third year, who heard from Carl, the half-Japanese kid that’s weirdly obsessed with tomatoes, who is best friends with Nia, that girl that was featured in Art Monthly in January, who happens to know -”

You slammed your head back on the desk, the notes completely forgotten as her word vomit swirled in your ears. First off, you didn’t know any of those people and you really didn’t care about them or what incredible thing they had passed along to a million different people. It was like one of those chain games you played as a kid – one person says something before passing it on to another and, by the time it got to the end of the line, it was something completely different from what it once was. “Tsuko, please spare me any further pain and just get to the point.”

She rolled her brown eyes, “You’re so dramatic, Y/N. Anywho, let’s get tattoos!”

“Heh?”

“Nia knows a guy that does tattoos at a discounted price for Karasuno alumni!” She clapped her hands excitedly. “I set us up with an appointment tomorrow afternoon!”

“You -” your eye twitched in annoyance as you looked at her, but your gaze softened when you saw how excited she was. She had always been super into tattoos and had dreamed of getting one since she was thirteen-years-old and her mom married a guy that was covered in them. You were happy she was finally getting one, but why did you have to get one, as well? Sure, you thought tattoos were absolutely gorgeous and you could definitely appreciate an attractive man with them, but you had never actually considered getting one yourself. “I don’t know… What would I even get? Aren’t tattoos supposed to have meaning behind them? It’s not really something you just decide on the fly, you know?”

“That’s true,” she agreed, tapping her chin. “But you really loved your time at Karasuno, right? You said it was the best time of your life! So why not commemorate that with a tattoo?”

You frowned. “Getting the name of a high school tattooed on my body sounds super tacky.”

“Not the name!” She clicked her tongue in annoyance before pulling out her phone. After a few taps, she stood up to thrust the device in your face, showing off various drawings and designs of crows. “You can get the school’s mascot – a crow!”

You hummed as you took her phone, scrolling through the various images she had found on google with a simple search. Some of them did look pretty cool and you had loved your time at Karasuno. Sometimes you even found yourself wishing that you were back in high school when things were so much simpler and easier. The more you thought about the idea, the more you liked it.

“So~, what do you say?” Tsuko clapped her hands together, giving you the best puppy dog eyes she could manage.

“Well,” you answered after a moment’s pause. “I guess I have nothing to lose. Sure, let’s do it.”

“Yes!” She threw her arms around your neck, squeezing you against her chest. “You’re the bestest friend in the world, Y/N!”

You slapped her arms frantically, “Then let me breathe!”

“Oh, oops.” With a giggle, she released you, allowing you to take in a large gulp of air.

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Tsuko parked the car in front of the small tattoo shop nestled between a used bookstore and a fast-food chicken place. This did little to boost your confidence and you grabbed her arm before she could leave the car.

“Are you sure this place is legit? Did you research it? Look up reviews? What’s the -”

“Y/N!” She rolled her eyes. “This place comes highly recommended. Don’t tell me you’re going to chicken out at the last moment.”

“I’m not, I just…”

“Come on, we’re gonna be late for our appointment!”

With a sigh, you climbed out of her car and followed her to the door, glancing up at the bell above the door when it chimed loudly. On either side of the door were metal chairs lined against the class walls. Directly across from the door was an L-shaped desk with a computer on the right and various drawings scattered across its surface. A wall hid the tattooing area, offering a small opening on the left to pass through.

Tsuko stepped up to the counter while you hung back a bit, staying near the door. A moment passed before a tall man with a shaved head appeared in the doorway, covered in head to toe in various tattoo styles, piercings in both ears and on the left side of his bottom lip. He honestly looked terrifying.

His small eyes fell on Tsuko and his face brightened, a streak of red crawling across his face as he practically skipped over to the counter. “Hey, babe! You lookin’ to get a tattoo?”

“We are!” Tsuko chirped, clearly interested in this man even though she had only just met him. “We have an appointment, actually.”

“I gotchu,” he winked, stepping behind the counter to check the computer. “Ah, you two the Karasuno alumni?”

“Yep!”

“Perfect! Come on back and we’ll get to work!”

Tsuko didn’t hesitate to follow him and you sighed, trailing behind as you chewed on your bottom lip. Honestly, you were feeling kind of scared, but you didn’t want your best friend to think bad of you for chickening out, as she called it. How bad could it be, really? You weren’t afraid of needles and your pain tolerance was pretty high, so you were confident that you could make it through. Plus, you’d have a pretty bomb tattoo to show for it.

‘Hopefully,’ you thought as your eyes scanned the framed drawings lining the backroom. ‘These drawings look amazing, but there’s no way to prove that they did these.’

The man led the two of you to one of the plush chairs, motioning with his arms as his eyes stayed trained on your friend. “Have a seat, princess, and I’ll be right with you!”

She giggled in response, falling into the chair with a flushed face.

“As for you,” his eyes fell on you and you swallowed at how darker they got. “Follow me!”

You glanced at your friend, but her eyes were trained on the man’s back, offering you no support as you followed him a few chairs down on the opposite side of the room.

“Have a seat,” he grinned at you before turning toward the back of the room where a lone door sat, cupping his mouth. “Yo, Daichi! You got a customer!”

“Coming!”

You pulled out the folded piece of paper in your pocket that had several printed illustrations of crows in various poses. You had printed it out last night to try and help out the tattooer rather just saying, ‘I want a crow.’

“Hello, my name is Daichi and I’ll be -”

Your eyes met dark ones that widened in time with your own. Standing before you in a tight, black muscle shirt was the man that had taken your pocky the other night. Without any sleeves, you could see the dragon tattoo curling around his left arm, a light pink lotus flower clutched between its claws. On his right bicep was a crow sitting atop a volleyball and, of course, the crow in mid-flight could be seen more clearly on his neck.

Daichi cleared his throat, putting on an obviously forced smile. “I’ll be your tattooist today. What are you looking to get?”

“O-Oh, umm…” You handed him the paper with a shaking hand, unable to look him in the eye. Your face was burning with embarrassment and you were torn on whether or not you should mention what happened that night. You really wanted to apologize, but you weren’t entirely sure how, especially when one wrong word could land you in a world of hurt.

He took the paper, careful not to touch your hand with his as he glanced over the printed designs. “You want a crow?”

“Y-Yeah,” you cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “I really enjoyed my time at Karasuno, so…”

He smiled down at the paper, settling himself on the rolling stool as he grabbed a sketchbook from beneath the counter. “Is there a specific design you want?”

“Not really. Umm… whatever you think would look nice.” You rubbed the back of your neck, glancing at your friend, but neither her nor the other man were paying either of you any mind.

“How about this?” He held up the sketchbook, showing off a small crow in mid-hop, its eyes trained on a butterfly flying above its head. Small feathers were spread out around it. It was such a simple design, but you fell in love the moment you saw it.

“Yes, that looks amazing!”

“Cool. I’ll be right back.” He stood up, tearing the drawing from the book before returning to the room at the back. When he returned, he was carrying a thin piece of paper that he held gently between his fingers. “Where do you want to get it?”

You glanced at the paper, taking note of its small size. “My upper arm?” You lifted the sleeve of the t-shirt on your left arm, looking up at him for approval.

“Can you take your shirt off, please?”

“W-What?” Your cheeks burned at the sudden request.

“The sleeve might get in the way of the tattoo and ruin it. It’s better if it’s not in the way.” Daichi explained, setting the paper on the table beside the chair before setting up the tools.

Swallowing your nerves, you glanced at him before pulling the shirt over your head, holding it across your chest. He didn’t even spare you a glance as he rolled over to your side, slipping his hands into black gloves before cleaning the area where the tattoo would be placed. The stencil was cold as he carefully smoothed it out across your skin, pressing hard to ensure that the ink transferred. When he was satisfied, he slowly peeled it away, the ink stuck to your skin.

Daichi’s dark eyes met yours as he picked up the ink gun. “Are you ready?” You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Remember to breathe and try not to tense up, it’ll make it hurt worse. If it gets too much or you start to feel lightheaded, let me know and we’ll take a break. I’m going to start now.”

“Okay.” Your eyes followed his movements as he clicked on the gun, lowering the needle to your skin. You sucked in a breath at the strange stinging feeling upon your skin, as if you were getting a shot multiple times. You found yourself focusing on the pain and it was making you feel light-headed – you had to distract yourself. “Hey, I uhh… I’m sorry.”

“Hm?” He didn’t glance away from his work, carefully tracing the lines with the needle. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just… the other night in the quick mart…” You chewed on your bottom lip as you searched your brain for the proper words, meeting his dark eyes when he paused his ministrations to glance at you. “I want to apologize. I was such a jerk to you even though I didn’t know you and… I’m sorry.”

Daichi hummed, the corners of his lips twitching up as he returned to the tattoo, his tone teasing. “Are you just apologizing so I won’t mess up your tattoo?”

“What? N-No, that’s not -” You paused when he started laughing, bringing the gun away from your skin so he wouldn’t mess up the tattoo. “You’re teasing me.”

“Yup,” his dark eyes sparkled with amusement. “Don’t worry, I’m not so petty that I’d mark up someone’s skin over something like that. To be honest, I had forgotten all about it until I saw you.”

Seeing him so close to you made your heart pick up speed because he was a really gorgeous man and you adored his laugh. You wanted to get to know him more, so you threw caution to the wind, looking up at him through your lashes. “Can I… make it up to you? Maybe I can buy you some lunch or something.”

“That sounds nice,” he smiled warmly, his eyes lighting up.

“Way to go, Daichi!” The other man waggled his eyebrows as he looked at the two of you, a smirk upon his lips. “And you always yell at me for trying to date the clients!”

Daichi scowled over his shoulder, a light shade of pink coming to his cheeks. “Shut it, Tanaka! Focus on your client.”

“Oh trust me, I am~” Tanaka wiggled his brows again, this time at Tsuko who giggled in response.

“We should go on a double date!” She suggested happily, to which Tanaka nodded enthusiastically.

Daichi sighed, giving you a sheepish look. “You up for a double date?”

You glanced at your best friend and her new love interest before giving him a smile. “Something tells me we don’t have a choice.”

“Definitely not,” he laughed.

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📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

ok, so Healani, Oliver, Circe, Piper and Juniper. what stuff do you have down for them? stuff like backstory, family, relationships/friends, hobbies, any quirks or things they do a lot that stand out or anything else you want to add? (yes, I'm asking those basic questions. sue me.)

:3c

Healani:

She originally lived with her family in Hawaii - mom, dad, and seven siblings (Healani is the second youngest). They’re all werewolves, and her parents were sort-of the leaders of a pack.One day, though, her parents go missing through presumable issues with people in another (rival) pack who they’d caused issues with before.Healani and her immediate older + younger brothers get sent to live with her aunt (the others are all into adulthood already)Police track the case for a year or two before they give up and just assume her parents are dead; but Healani refuses to believe it and decides that, if the police won’t keep looking, she willHer parents names are Iolana and Ahe, and her siblings (in order, oldest to youngest) are Leilani, Kiloua,  Akamai, Akela, Ikaiah,  Keola, and PeniShe doesn’t have too many friends yet because she’s only just moved to her aunts’ and hasn’t met anyone yetAs for hobbies, she likes engineering, math, dance, and cheerleadingWith quirks: she twirls her hair on her finger a lot, bites her nails when she thinks, and she tends to prefer when things are symmetrical 

Oliver:

Oliver’s actually a VenturianTale OC so here we goNobody really knows that much about his past. Just one day he wasn’t around and the next he was.His family relationship isn’t great. His parents are kinda shit and his siblings are just assholes. He tends to stay with friends most of the time.He doesn’t have a whole lot of friends but he has a few.He likes paranormal investigating, drawing, and playing the guitarHe fiddled with his glasses a lot, chews on his shirt collars, and likes to pull at loose strings

Circe:

Circe is the youngest of two siblings; her mother Anathema was the leader of a coven. Due to how the coven worked, Circe was next to lead as the next of kin (her older brother left).But Anathema was really strict about it. She always wanted Circe to be studying and learning how to lead, but in the way Anathema wanted - So Circe ended up not having a lot of time to be a kid.By the time she was seventeen, she’d had enough. She and her mom got into a huge fight that ended with Circe leaving, moving to stay with her brother instead.From there, she tried to heal the things she’d had hurt or lost. She tried to take back what little innocence and childhood she had left; but she ended up resenting Anathema for it.Her brother, Salem, has a pretty good relationship with her. They get along well and she’s one of the few people who can make him crack a smile. He’s doing his best to help her.Her hobbies include fantasy novels, the violin, and singingShe doesn’t have too many quirks, beyond how she stammers/trips over her words when she’s excited.

Piper:

Piper is a love goddess. She’s not sure exactly how long she’s been around, but she knows that it’s been an incredibly long time.She was “born” not long after Aurora and Juniper were; she sees Aurora as a parental figure and Juniper is her best friend.Her relationships with the others she knows are pretty great; she gets along well with them, and she’s dating Annie.She likes art and music, especially dance. She also likes gardening and sewing.She laughs when she’s nervous, wrings her hands when she’s shy, and combs her hair with her fingers a lot.

Juniper:

Juniper is a nature deity. They were “born” not long after Aurora, but some time before Piper. They also aren’t sure how old they are exactly, though.Their relationships with everyone are pretty basic. Most are little more than acquaintances besides Aurora - their partner - and Piper.They like gardening, cooking, painting, and baking.They talk with their hands a lot, and they tend to be really loud sometimes. They play with their hat a lot, too.

She was not expecting anyone to be here. She wiped at her face, trying desperately to hide that she’d been crying. Northwests didn’t cry. They had an image to uphold. But it was hard for a 12 year old to not be tearful over being told she’d be staying with relatives that didn’t care for her, while her father went to Portland for some business. She hated her aunt and uncle. She hated how she couldn’t be herself around them.

“ Are you crying?”

“ No. I have...dust in my eyes.”

The two stared at each other in silence for a time. Taking in their appearances. To her, this creature seemed to be a fawn, but it was pitch black save for the bright, almost electrical dotted markings on it’s back. It had golden hooves, tiny horn buds and bright gold eyes. She’d never seen a deer like this before, but she thought it looked very beautiful.

To the deer, this seemed to be a very young human girl, though it was unsure what age. Dark mid-length hair, icy blue eyes and pale skin. Like the settlers, the deer noted. She was dressed in a white skirt with black stockings, a large white and navy collar, navy sash at the thigh and a large navy bow in her hair. 

“ You’re not scared of me?” it said in a voice that she thought sounded young. 

“ Should I be?” she asked cautiously, she wasn’t even sure what the deer was, or if this was even a ‘deer’. “ What are you?”

“ I’m a guardian.”

“ Oh.” she blinked, not really sure what that meant. 

“ The forest is my home. I keep it safe.” it explained “ Are you lost?”

“ I...” she looked around, she had been running headlong into the forest, not even bothering to stay on the trails. She really wasn’t sure where she was now. She hadn’t been thinking of any kind of destination and she hadn’t thought of what to do or where to stay once she ran away. She felt even more foolish, her emotions had blindly led her to unknown territory.

“ I think so.” she said sadly

“ I know the way back to town. I can take you there.”

“ NO!” she cried “ No, I don’t want to go back home, I’m not wanted there.”

“ It will be dark soon, it’s not good to be out here alone.” it paused and thought where else this human could stay if she didn’t want to go home, it thought of a cave, but that would be too cold and there could be bats...

“ There’s a church not too far away, you could stay there.”

She flinched. A church? Someone like her. Something like her...being welcomed in a church? She shook her head. “ I don’t think that’s a good idea, I don’t want to burden anyone. Isn’t there somewhere else I could go?”

“ The church is abandoned, there’s no one there, but there is shelter and it’s warm. Come on.” 

The creature tilted it’s head, motioning her to follow and she did so. As they walked on, she noticed the forest getting denser, darker. She wasn’t sure if the sun was setting quicker or this creature was leading her further away from civilization. The latter thought scared her. As much as wanted to get away from home, she didn’t want to get away from town.

“ Is there any food in that church?”

“ No, but I could get you some. I know where there are a lot of berries and roots you could eat. Unless you’re a meat eater?”

She smiled at the mention of her being a ‘meat eater’, meaning this creature was probably vegetarian, like most deer were. This eased her fears of it wanting to possibly lure her away to eat her. “ I do eat meat, but berries sound good.”

There was no trail as they headed up. Branches and weeds caught her skirt and seeds stuck to her black stockings, but she paid little mind. They were already ruined by the time she met this creature, when she fell a few times trying to run off. The undergrowth and dense trees gave away to a clearing, and before them was a run down looking church. This creature wasn’t kidding when it said it was abandoned, it looked like it hadn’t seen a living soul in decades. It’s wood sides covered in ferns, vines and brambles, it’s wide doors fallen off the hinges, the roof thankfully looked intact. 

“ I haven’t been in here in a long time, but I remember there being fabric in the back rooms, I think they’re called blankets?”

She barely registered what it just said, she’d never been in a church before. Her father would’ve never allowed it. She looked around at the little figures sitting on alcoves above, colored in the dancing prisms of the light from broken stained glass, tattered red carpet harboring green moss underfoot and a lopsided cross in the very front. It wasn’t nearly as frightening as she was told it would be. It was very somber in a rustic sort of way.

She hadn’t noticed she was still walking, following the deer creature to the very front and through a room beyond it. It got noticeably dimmer but still lit from a single window. She witnessed the creature use it’s mouth to pull open a wardrobe. Inside were blankets, clothing on hangers and various other fabric that she figured were things for a ritual of sorts. She picked up a blanket, surprised by how dustless they were, the heavy pine doors must have protected them from the elements and moths.

“ I’ll get some food, I’ll be right back.” said the creature, and with a jump, it gracefully and effortlessly ran into the air, sparks of electricity on it’s golden heels. She was in awe. She only knew others like her could fly with brooms, but never just lift into the sky like that. What was this creature?

She would have to ponder about that later, the noon sun was setting, making the room even dimmer. She looked around at the other rooms, one seemed to be in a state of total decay, the floorboards had rotted to the dirt foundation they were laid on, the other room’s window had been busted, allowing nature to take hold of it. She decided to call the ‘office’ she was in, her temporary home. It had a desk, books, a bench, chairs and the single window was intact. She spotted an oil lantern on top of a shelf, shook it, there was still fuel.

By the time the creature came back with food, cleverly using a discarded offering basket on a pew, she’d made a little bed out of the bench and chairs, pulling them together against a wall.The creature set down the basket of food and looked at the makeshift bed area.

“ I found a lantern in a cabinet. I couldn’t find any matches though, so I had to use magic to get it started.” 

The creature tilted it’s head curiously “ Magic?”

“ Yes, I’m a witch. But I’m still in school, so I don’t know a whole lot of spells yet.”

Golden eyes blinked for a second. This girl was a witch? “ You are a very young witch. I’ve only met old ones before.”

“ I’m not so young!” she pouted “ I’m 12 years old this year! Nearly a young lady.”

“ Only 12 years? I am over 2 billion.”

“ That’s impossible, an animal can’t be that old.”

“ But I am. And I’m not an animal, I’m a guardian.” he explained again “ I suppose, a kind of deity of the forest.”

Her eyes went wide. A deity! Well that certainly explained how it could fly, and make electrical sparks as it did so. But she thought deities were much...bigger and more grander looking. This ‘deity’ was but a small deer. A baby. She’d never heard not read of one like that. 

“ What do they call you?”

“ I have many names. The tribes that were here before settlers came had as many as 100 names for me. Storm Bringer, Singing Rain...”

Ah, so it was an ‘Indian’ idol. She’d seen their likenesses on the trip up to Oregon carved on masks from the mysterious tribes of the cold north at trading posts, and painted on the capes and hats of the ‘Indians squaws’ who sold rabbit and otter furs along the trails. 

“ Oh but what do you call yourself? Surely you must have a personal name of your own. Like mine. My name is America Northwest, but I don’t care for it much, so I chose to go by Ami or Ricky instead.”

“ I don’t have a name like that.”

“ How sad.” she said, not have a personal name to identify with. Not even a nickname. “ What would you like to be called? I’ve always fancied William or Catherine. They’re such lovely names.”

“ I don’t know what those mean. If I am to name myself, I would like it to mean something personal to me.”

“ That’s fair.” She supposed if a name were to be chosen, it should be special. But there was time for that, maybe after she ate she’d recommend more names. She wasn’t sure what gender the little deity was, so she’d have to come up with girl and boy names, or even neutral ones like Lark or Joe.

She spied the food in the basket and her stomach growled, those berries looked delicious and she immediately recognized some to be gooseberries and wild strawberries.

“ You’re not eating?” she asked

“ I have eaten while I was out. You’re welcome to the basket.”

The whole basket? Well that was swell! She picked up a wild strawberry and popped it into her mouth. So sweet, so fragrant. Nothing like the larger ones she’d eaten back home. Very soon, the contents of the basket disappeared as did the sunlight. She lay on her side, stroking the soft and cloud-like fur of her new nameless friend. It seemed to enjoy it greatly.

“ Tell me more of your home in Ca-For-Nah.”

“ California.” she softly corrected “ San Francisco is a very big city with lots of people. It’s also very foggy and windy. The coastline is very rocky with lots of flat beaches where my mama and I used to go into the bathing machine. My papa took me to the World’s Fair last year...” 

She trailed off as her head dipped down. She normally didn’t sleep so early, but all the running and crying exhausted her. Eventually she went quiet, and lay on her side in her little makeshift bed without a blanket, the body of the creature against her radiated warmth.

“ World’s Fair. San Francisco.” repeated the creature. There was no context nor mental image of such a place, yet the names ignited curiosity. Never had the deer god left the land before, it knew nothing of the world beyond Gravity Falls or that such amazing sounding places existed. The little deer god tucked in it’s legs and curled closer to the young witch. Though it did not need sleep, it stayed quiet, listening to her soft breathing and watching the flickering of the lamp.

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

Author’s Notes:

If you couldn’t guess, this takes place probably around the early 1900s, what with the bathing machines and mention of the World’s Fair aka Panama–Pacific International Exposition. Ricky here also uses terms that described the Native peoples of the Pacific Northwest back then, which of course are really offensive now, but for the sake of her rich white background and historical accuracy, are used. Doesn’t mean she can’t unlearn it, especially with Sam, who remains nameless for now. 

A second part is pending. I like this AU, I’ve been trying to bust this writer’s block for a few days. If this is what does it, I’m continuing it. For how long? Idk. Maybe skip a few years into their friendship to see how time changes things. We’ll see.

TAGGED BY: @burmecias-protector

TAGGING: Anyone who would like to, repost instead of reblogging please.

1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME? "There are many, Death, Thanatos, Grim Reaper, Pale Rider..choose your favorite.”

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME? “The name I take as truth, is Mortem. It is the first name I was granted alongside my counterpart, Vita.”  

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU’RE CALLED THAT?  “Language. Mortal language has long dictated what I ‘am’ and the ‘name’ I am given by individual sections of the living cultures.”

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN? "Taken, I suppose. Though the specifics are quite strange to explain..and rather unfortunate if I say so myself.”

5. WHAT ARE YOUR POWERS AND ABILITIES? “Such a list would take countless lifespans for you to attempt reading..simply take what you know of my work and assume as such from there. There are countless other..less involved abilities of mine, though that will simply have to suffice.”

6. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES? “Whatever color I so choose depending upon the form I wish to take, though I find myself staying quite fondly with the faintest of purple.”

7. HAVE YOU EVER DYED YOUR HAIR?

“I haven’t the need. If I wish my form to change in any way I may simply do so upon my own whims.”

8. DO YOU HAVE ANY FAMILY MEMBERS? “In a somewhat literal sense, I do. My fellow Horsemen. War, Pestilence, and Famine, are all siblings of mine. Though I also view those I have taken as Reapers to be something akin to children, and will certainly count them all as such.”

9. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? “Nothing truly under such a..restriction, no. There are endless souls of animals and beasts alike within my realm, though I intentionally hold no such restraints nor collars upon them. They are free to their peace just as any other fallen soul.”

10. TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE. “There is little else that will cause me irritation than those granted with the immeasurable gift of potential..and let it rot upon the wayside. Choosing to do nothing of note in it’s stead.”

11. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES OR ACTIVITIES YOU DO IN YOUR SPARE TIME? “In truth, it is remarkably rare that I of all beings is granted something as useful as spare time. Yet, in those fleeting moments that may come from time to time, I enjoy music in various forms or simply spending that time alongside my counterpart.”

12. HAVE YOU EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE?

"Of course. Not every death is quick, nor is every beast willing to leave a fallen soul without a struggle.”

13. HAVE YOU EVER… KILLED ANYONE?

“...........I trust this question is truly not for me of all beings..”

14. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU? “Animal is certainly not the word I would use to describe exactly what those like me are. Cosmic entities, pillars of reality itself even...yet certainly not some animal.”

15. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS.  “I...do perhaps have quite a habit of causing something of a..chaotic outburst within the worlds once my boredom becomes far too irritating to simply let stay.”

16. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE?   “I suppose Vita would be one I find myself admiring and looking towards in my times of doubt. She is something far beyond myself.”

17. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL? "Does that truly matter? I am neither truly male nor female, and my attractions range far beyond any such constraints. Not that I have any interest in pursuing such things with any random soul.”

18. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL? “I...am Death itself....of course not..”

19. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS SOMEDAY? “Marriage is not something I find myself of all beings partaking in. As for children..that..simply cannot happen. No life may come of death.”

20. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANS?

“There are many who seem to nearly worship me if not truly doing so..so yes, I would say so.”

21. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF?   “Nothing.” That wasn’t completely honest

22. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR? “Whatever may suit me at the moment, as my form may change as too may my attire.”

23. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE?   “I would say Vita..but..love is nothing close to the truth. Mortal words do not fair well in describing it in reality.”

24. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU?   “Cosmic entity? Something above a mere Deity or ruler certainly, if that is what you’re asking.”

25. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE? “I..would unfortunately say quite few. Rarely do those by Death’s side find long lives.”

26. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE? “It’s quite nice at times?”

27. FAVORITE DRINK? "Coffee, perhaps a nice bottle out of my various reserves if not that.”

29. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE? “My realm. It is exactly as I wish it to be.”

30. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE? “I believe there is something wrong with your hearing my dear..”

31. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN? “Neither..I’ve never found myself fond of such things.”

32. WHAT’S YOUR ‘TYPE’? “Nothing you may hope to achieve.”

33. ANY FETISHES?

“Allow me to put it in a simple way. It is quite similar to my powers..a list far too long for me to explain.”

34. TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE? “If I must answer such ridiculous things, it truly does not matter.”

35. CAMPING, OR INDOORS? "Indoors.”

36. ARE YOU WAITING FOR THIS INTERVIEW TO BE OVER? “Absolutely. This has proven both a useful waste of time..and a minor annoyance. I do hope your questions have been answered however, as I do not plan to answer such things again soon. I do hope you were listening closely.”

[ junhui - a sweet sting ]

⌦ fluff, very faint nsfw themes, secret admirer!reader, high school!junhui, some “godammnit i’m a fool!”s dusted throughout, and a surprise hollywood guest visit from your fav jolly holiday ho ho hoe

⌦ junhui was simply an ethereal being and you wanted to let him know (ur boi  is slightly cocky in this one but don’t worry, the word grease doesn’t exist in this fic unless it’s to describe a juicy burger)

⌦ words: 2701

It wasn’t the fact that your teacher babbled about Tuesday’s test and you couldn’t conspire any speculation about what she said, nor was it the fact that you were on the brink of dozing off and that you sat right smack in the front of the class where the teacher could give you a side-eye.

No, it wasn’t any of that, and it was never any of that since this subject was one you had such a tenacious grip on that you knew like the back of your hand. Inexplicably enough, you should have been taking a mental note of next week’s test as school was a priority for you, but in lieu of that, it was the ruffling through the hair, the affable giggle, and the suave, almost slick tone of voice a certain someone had that was it for you.

To see someone carry themselves in such a manner left you jaw-slacked constantly, and this, to put it  frankly, your hand at night, as you lied in bed atop cotton-polyester, took this thought to an extreme extent, as it trailed down your hips, leaving you whimpering out of pure guilt and desperation, and in a puddle of shamed, soaked underwear. It was never fair–to witness Adonis’ reincarnation, such pulchritude in its sheer form, but you had to hinder yourself from acting upon these measly thoughts of yours.

Wen Junhui was the absolute, outright, most–“Y/N? Did you not get enough sleep last night? I know you guys are leaving this school  in half a year and don’t have much fuel left to power through this year, but please, stay with the program,” your teacher’s words rattled you, yet still went in one ear and out the other, “all of you, please get at least 6 hours of sleep, because I know 9 hours isn’t realistic for you guys anymore.”

A searing spring of mild distress coiled around you tightly, seizing your body in the warm atmosphere of humiliation. Internally sighing, you turned around as your classmates were groaning “Ugh, same!” because you were at the peak of relativity, just to capture a fragment of a glimpse of the criminal who invaded your thoughts every class period.

Nothing but a blank look of boredom was sprawled across his face–the face that undid your every train of thought and had you run over from blatant admiration. You didn’t really intend to occupy his gaze for an unadorned, yet heightened 3 seconds, but when Wen Junhui looked at anyone, he looked at them.

“I get you. I’m tired as hell too and I really don’t have enough energy to carry on through the damn year, but trust me, we’re all dying, and we can get through this together,” the lackadaisical curve bestowed upon such a magnificent portrait flashed at you, and out with his words came a silky yet mellow resonance.

Was it possible to want to touch someone’s voice, to actually hold their voice in your hands? Yes, because you wanted nothing more than to twiddle your thumbs over the texture of Junhui’s voice. Every interaction you had from him, though there were barely any in your repertoire, turned you into a jumbled mess of the alphabet. You couldn’t comprehend what actually happened in the last 5 seconds but you were pretty sure that every ounce of your being had melted away and dripped into your thoughts, through the cracks of Jun’s palms.

“Uhh, thanks for reassurance?” You barely managed to squeak out before turning back around, as if you were the last morsel of toothpaste and Junhui’s reaction was an idly squeezing hand.

Wen Junhui spoke to you. Yes, he did, as in vibrations caused by molecules and the energy in his throat were directed towards you. This didn’t send you to the moon and back, but it fired you at the fastest speed possible to all planets in the Milky Way NASA discovered, including Pluto.

It wasn’t that you floated around school and camouflaged into the surface of the locker that you barely talked to Jun, not really, but when given the chance by some gracious deity up there to encounter him in some way, you shied away, which was followed by a mental slap to your frontal lobe.

It wasn’t that easy, however, to just approach someone as beloved around the school as Jun, and it was never that easy for someone that didn’t really demand for his attention. That kid was bolting through the school daily, so who cared about eggshells? He crushed them. Even getting a glimpse of him outside of school was nonexistent, as he had some sort of martial arts practice, or something of that branch, and you’d heard around from senior buzzing that he was apparently a good dancer too, so there would be no way for you to ever catch him.

Sigh. What the hell were you doing with some frivolous little crush on Junhui? It wasn’t like you were at the most somewhat dismayed when you watched some girl pull Jun by his collar to sneak a kiss at him, and it certainly wasn’t like you were kind of crestfallen when you saw another girl wrap her arms around him in his car, no, maybe to some extent, but never heartbroken. 

How downright ludicrous would it be for you to swell up with these feelings over something as trivial as a crush?

And fuck, oh fucking hell did you loathe that word, and every time it clouded your thoughts you wanted to groan in resentment.

Freshman year, when you spilled the beans to your circle of friends about how you felt about this boy, the only word you’d ever retained from the pep talk they gave you.

“Y/N you’re so cute, aw! You’re out here with a little crush!”

“So, does Jun know about this crush of yours?”

“Are you really going to tell him about your crush?”

“Oh boy, I swear to god if this kid crushes that frail heart of yours he’ll never see the light of day again.”

Such a foolish word with its steady grasp on you. It just seemed to ruin you through its fingers, watching your downfall, you crumbling to your core in the palm of its hand. Poor you, letting yourself get destroyed single-handedly by nothing more than a puny little 5 letter word. It was utterly tragic, and you didn’t really do anything about it, but there was just something tugging at you from inside, somewhere, but you didn’t know where, and any kind of concurrence you had with that boy, it just dragged you into its toxic hell of embarrassment.

For the rest of the period, you stayed with whatever dignity you had left clutched to your chest, alongside the half-eaten candy bar you had on your desk in case of a breakdown later.

Junhui’s eyes weren’t even trying to catch you in its line of sight in the slightest bit, nope, none of that, but that thought lingered in the corner of your mind throughout the lesson, thus you couldn’t even curl yourself into a ball, but more so crammed your flushed being into a messy mingle of entangled limbs.

“Hey!” you whipped your head around faster than the tiniest ounce of unease could knock you over.

Thank fuck; it was nothing more than student body trying to get you to buy candy cane grams.

You didn’t want to be rude to the students who actually tried at school, whether that be by making friends or attempting at the ugliest mayhem of a math problem, so you hastened your steps towards the boy in the middle with the widest grin you’d ever seen.

“...and then just sign off with your name and we’ll deliver it to them tomorrow in class!” the student in the middle, who you recalled as Seokmin...who also ran around the school, exclaimed.

“Um, thanks, but I think I might just buy one tomorrow, I don’t think I have enough mon–” “Hey, Y/N! Thought you were having lunch with us today?” your friend, Yeri, cut you off, in which it was something you both did to each other that pushed your buttons, but today she saved you from seeming a tad bit coarse. And you didn’t want to come off that way to someone as amiable and genial as Lee Seokmin.

“Yeri, do you want to buy a candy cane gram here from student body?” Seokmin asked.

Your friend pondered for what seemed like a second in an hour, and rapid beams of affection radiated a little too strongly.

“Um, I don’t think there’s anyone–wait, actually...Wonwoo! Oh my god! He’s the cutest person ever, just the way his nose scrunches and his voice–fucking Jeon Wonwoo!” the way her pupils glimmered at some flashback she was probably trying to recall in class of Wonwoo doing his thing or something like that, it was one you’ve seen before.

One you’ve known all too well, one you’ve experienced yourself before, but not for Jeon Wonwoo, but for another 6 foot tall hunk who never seemed to be around.

“Jesus, Yeri! I knew you liked Wonwoo but not to the point you’ve noticed frivolous habits of his!” “Shut the hell up, Y/N, you’ve marveled at Wen Junhui for 4 years. Seokmin, Y/N will take a candy cane gram, thank you.” You couldn’t blame her, it wasn’t like you noticed his seasonal hair color changes, as this time of year you’d expected it to be black like it had been last year, but you were taken aback with a pleasant auburn surprise.

You didn’t hate his copper look, but rather thought about it too much to the point where you wanted your hands to be the one to dishevel it, your face to be buried in it when he hugged you, man, when would you learn to shut the fuck up?

“‘Dear Junhui, you’re the x to my y,” Yeri started, “and I might be shy, but you look like a goddamn snack all throughout the clock, I wouldn’t mind it if we get cockblocked?’ I don’t know, say something sappy, or you’ll scribble all over the paper.”

I wouldn’t mind if we get cockblocked? You began to wonder what kind of crack they’d been selling at school these days, and how the fuck Yeri had gotten her hands on it.

“Whatever, I’ll leave it short and sweet. Oh! And I’ll leave it anonymous, so he doesn’t know it’s from me,” you wailed.

An ample amount of reality had been inflicted upon you in what was an explicit and stinging 2 seconds you had to think, but you’d just realized that Junhui probably, no, definitely, received dozens of these every year, and it hurt to try and grapple onto sensibility like that.

You’d both part ways within months, never going to bat an eye at each other, and it certainly wasn’t like you’ve made actual actual eye contact in the past, but instead of parting ways with Wen Junhui, he’d jaunt contentedly into his future, while you trudged, trying your best to forget about who ⅕ of your attention went to in high school.

Another slap in the face. 

Maybe that’s why you were sending him a candy cane gram (but Yeri totally shoved the cutely decorated paper in your face, you’d argue): Junhui was a sweet boy, and all you’d ever seen him as was a candy-coated type of person, but it left a mild, abiding prick in your mouth as you had danced and made a deal with Satan, whose middle name was Get Your Fucking Shit Together.

Yeri shrugged as she knew you’d try to outargue her and have a neighborly sort of quarrel if she ever inquired to know your reasons for your anonymity. Plus, the line grew a little bit as you had both been standing there for the past 12 minutes trying to conceive a mushy message about two aforementioned losers, whom had both never left your minds. And, she didn’t want to miss out on her sandwich, especially because she prepared it herself this morning!

“Thanks Seokmin!” you both slap your small papers on the sad, rickety, practically busted school plastic table, provoking the ugliest creak that in turn, startled a mess of raven hair into next week.

“OhmyLordhaveanicedaythankyouforsupportingStudentBody!” a poor Lee Seokmin tried to string together a cohesive, buoyant sentence without having his left buttcheek slide off the chair.

It was Wednesday.

Maybe it was Hump Day, sure. Maybe it was the day student body announced that they were distributing the candy cane grams during 4th period. Maybe it was the day where you could’ve been your normal, muddled self, but in actuality, was it the day where you’d get noticed by a Junhui?

Whatever up there was working its powers, you expressed your gratitude towards in a sigh of relief, as you had already taken the test for this class. Tuesday had been promoted to being your beloved day of the week, your prized child that set up high expectations for younger children, but none could ever really live up to Tuesday. It was Wednesday today, however, as no one in all of existence had lived to experience Tuesday twice.

Muah, you cradled Tuesday in your mind, not only had you not given Junhui any sliver of attention, but you also fucking aced that test. Tuesday was a godsend.

“Ho ho ho, fellow children of Stats 3rd Period! You know, I really don’t know why my elves in the student body insisted on still handing these treats out, because you’re all naughty in my eyes, but whatever! A nice one is a nice one!” The whole class chuckled for a good few minutes as Choi Seungcheol, all clad in a red, velvet Santa suit (and was it mentioned Seungcheol took his role too seriously and got too attached to his fake white wig and the sad little beard he took pride in?), tossed his mighty big, matching red bag full of candy cane grams into the air.

“Seungcheol, please just hand them out.” your teacher flashed an all too well known demeanor of disapproval towards the boy who probably won a $10 bet with Jeonghan for wearing the costume.

Santa Seungcheol paraded to Junhui, and dropped 6 candy cane grams individually on his desk, each one clattering uncomfortably atop the splintered desk.

“Ya know, I thought they’d all be from Minghao and Wonwoo trying to troll you again, but uh, congrats?” Santa simpered to his friend.

“Well, they are somethin’. Tell Jeonghan I said ‘hi’, will ya?” Jun quipped back to a sighing, supposedly jolly bearded man who grunted in return.

You’d almost swung your head around back too suspiciously to snag nothing more than a persistent glimpse at Junhui, who omitted any sort of scrutiny he had from reading asinine love notes to him.

Junhui beared nothing but a carbon copied look at every note that flashed leisurely before him. And then, it almost happened too quickly, but you’d ingrained it in your memory in slow motion.

Getting similar kinds of notes every time with different phone numbers everytime the student body distributed holiday grams was simply a routine for Wen Junhui, he’s read all sorts of notes.

You diverted any absorption from today’s lesson to Junhui curiously raising an eyebrow at the very last candy cane gram he’d received for today. He pouted his lips (well to anyone else it was just a pout, but to you, it was cute, ha, duh), and you watched as he seemed the slightest bit perplexed at this last note, which you’d so badly wished you could snatch for yourself to see if it was yours or not.

The rest Junhui had stuffed lazily into his jeans’ pocket, yet you noticed–but you should really turn back around to the front, though–the very last slip of striped red and white received different treatment, and was placed into the front pocket of his flannel instead.

You tucked away any sense of false hope you had garnered once Santa Seungcheol stepped into the room, as you were probably stuffed in denim instead of flannel. 

⌦ a/n: i typed half of this in the school library goddamnit,, but uh,,,this is going to have a shorter part 2, but i’m 1/16 done with my soonyoung fic that i actually started b4 this

Blooming

“Oh Duskmother is training going to be a failure today,” she’d muse with a little grimace.  Picking up her beloved stuffie, Mr. Onion and her linkpearls, she’d gingerly walk herself back to her bed and plop herself down upon it, her silken robes  puddling around her she’d pull the pillow Shiro slept on still scented with his dusky rose cologne, hugging it tight as she flopped over onto her tummy. Kicking her leg’s playfully in the air, she’d ring her sister on her link pearl.

Ayla hearing the ring on the pearl, would put her blush wand down, and pick up, “Hi Rose.  What’s up?”  Returning to her makeup. listening in, expecting to hear more about the marvels of ice cream or her training with Lord Shiro she’d almost stab herself in the eye as a very cross, indignant voice rang out, “You should have told me you erased everything left from Toriko!  Duskmother’s sake Ayla!  I didn’t ask for my…..flower back, just the tattoo gone what even possessed….I didn’t….the sheets...I...Ayla!”

Unable to help it Ayla would burst into laughter on the other end.  Partially from being found out, partially from Rose’s indignation and partially because she could already deduce what happened.  Deciding not to explain herself for the moment, she’d instead ask in a voice oozing in smugness, “So….how was your evening with Lord Chilly-pants?” Adding to her taunt, “It was Lord Chilly-pants right? You didn’t get so desperate I have to worry about like pulling Hank’s feather’s out of you now I hope”

“Ayla!”  a low growl heard on the other end as Ayla returned to putting on her mascara, huffing a soft chuckle that she was able to once again fluster her younger sister. “Ayla, I swear...one day…” sighing and collecting herself, Rose’s voice softening, “Yes I spent my evening with Lord Shiro, and I was already not prepared enough without your curve ball being stacked upon it all.  Oh gods am I sore….”

The elder sister’s voice softening on the other end, “Rose.  Sore is part of it, sorry to say. Aren’t you a warrior?  Think of it as battle or training.  You’ll get better, and your body will catch up I---Duskmother Rose, I healed back your mantle but you should know all this.  Didn’t it get easier with Shinji?  I mean I can’t imagine he was the gentlest partner sweetie.”

Her cheeks flashing hot she’d chew on one pausing before answering, “The only time Shinji was super rough was when he forgot he missed a step or twenty….and well I wasn’t expecting THAT part of me to be used.   That hurt.  And Shiro didn’t hurt me oh Duskmother!  What kind of monster do you even think he is?!”

“Well….” her sister’s voice trailing off as she thought she’d offer quietly, “A monster that did hunt my husband and originally more or less kill him…..twice.  Buuuuuuut, I still trust him...now.  Not with my husband, but with you, sure.” Giggling on the other end of the pearl, “Rose, other than being pissed at me for restoring any sign of Calar, how are you?”

Her voice filled with shy excitement, “Oh, I am perfect!  I am only not with Lord Shiro right now because it’s morning and he has business to attend to and I still need to take my bath and eat breakfast.  We have training later though….” her words pausing, when she’d next speak the awe would still be palatable, “Ayla.  He turned into a dragon.  Well, grew scales and wings and a tail like one and I think I almost passed out right there.  I mean, I already can’t stand near him without feeling flustered but when he transformed and had shimmering scales all over him, I swear I thought he was Azim brought back to this world and I about passed out! If his dragon cry didn’t cause my horns such painful ringing I probably would have.”

Giggling on the other end as she could hear the eager excitement and awe in her sister’s voice she’d also be taking note as she did not know Shiro had such powers, but Rose was not one to be false. “I would have loved to have seen your face.  He turned into a dragon in the bedroom though?  Dear sister, I’m all for people doing their thing, but that seems an odd way to start off.”

Gasping she’d realize she hadn’t been clear and Rose would giggle too, “Oh Duskmother NO! In our training that morning.  He wanted me to use my full power against him and try to at least outlast...I almost did it too, but,” she’d growl in soft playful frustration, “He got me again….ice cube.  Always ice cube or ice prison.  I even know it’s coming and still can’t get the better on him!” Laughing “But oh gosh no.  Last night was just handsome Lord Shiro with me in my Cabin.  And aside from my not knowing about your little healing stunt, it was perfect.” Realizing that Shiro had said nothing to her even in the morning about it, she’d chew her cheek and look down at her diamond ice bracelet, “Though I don’t know what Lord Shiro even thinks now about my prior life or experience.  He, as he usually is, was the perfect gentleman and did not even mention it or ask. So...thanks for giving me that awkward worry.”

Shaking her head,she’d shush her sister calmly on the other end, “Rose.  It does not matter.  Even if you were as experienced as my husband last night, and the signs clear, it does not matter.  What matters is that you do what your heart wishes. Which leads to me being the big butt hole of a sister right now, but did you do that? Or did you feel you had to?”  Waiting for her sister’s reply, Ayla would take a deep breath, her fingers tracing along her own collar hoping her Sister had learned these past cycles and that she was now only making choices she wanted, not what she thought others wanted for and of her.  She already felt she knew based on past talks with Rose about Shiro,but now seemed the best time to ask the young woman her thoughts.

“Oh gosh yes!  If anything, my heart was thanking secretly like every deity ever worshiped.  I mean, I still don’t know how to show him that...nor am I brave enough.  And I still worry I’m severely out classed and outsmarted.  He is so fancy and brilliant and I am well...I still have tribal furs in my closet.  But I have fought every urge I have to not just wrap my arms around him and not let go for moons now….even in my dreams I was fighting that.  No.  I very much did what my heart wanted.  And I believe what his heart needed as well.  He...he asked if I’d be his Lady. Stay with him even after this war is over.  I don’t know what a Lady exactly is to a Lord, but he scoffed when I asked if it was like Pet.  Said he’d never call me a pet...kinda seemed  aghast I’d even think such a thing.  I just thought it was the word for mate you know?”  Huffing a little happy sigh, “But yes sweet overprotective Sister, I am making the choices I want to make, and while I don’t know what happens next anymore than anyone else does, I know he cares for me back.  Everything is just so much more...tender...even when he’s trying to teach me something.”

Hearing Rose state and be sure of herself was a happy blessing in itself to the elder sister.  Still not wishing to get too dotey or serious she’d hum a soft laugh back, “Well the family harvest celebration table just got a lot more ...weird.  We women, we all get along great.  You, me Moli...but the menfolk….ever loving Duskmother.  I still haven’t told Captain what Sha did to me exactly, because I’d like Sha to live another day...maybe even two.  And Well Shiro and Captain, it’s progress they aren’t trying to slay each other anymore and we’ll leave that at that.  But it seems, my baby sis, little miss, ‘scales are a mark of warrior handsomeness’ has fallen in love with a furrball.”

Ayla’s joy over pointing out the irony of Rose’s disdain for Kuro having fur now that she too was paired with a Miqo'te, palatable, Rose would scoff, “Yours is still a furrball.  Mine is a king.”

Chuckling a little at her sister who she was pretty sure had no real memory of the chaos of the White Draco affair, “You have no idea.” Her voice softening as their conversation was winding to a close, “Rose. I am happy for you.  Despite the bickering you may see between him and me, Lord Shiro has proven himself a good, honorable man.  Just...don’t ever forget you have  a voice.  A purpose.  He cherishes you as you are.  And if that ever changes, then he isn’t deserving of you anymore.  But...if I had to guess, that’s not something you’ll have to worry about.”

“I know sis...you can stop momming me now.  And I’ll tell him I love him one day….just….I am not sure how nobles do that.  I’d like for at least one moment not to be my tribal fumbling self blurting out my thoughts.”  giggling, “But he keeps turning into dragons and oh Duskmother those kisses...I am not going to be able to stop myself.”  Looking up and realizing the time, “I should go though.  Training is in less than a bell and I need to be cleaned and fully armored ready to go….”  Pausing, before hanging up, “Ayla?”

“Yes Rose.”

“Thank you for healing away Calar.”

“You’re welcome Rose, but you did most of the work, I just removed the scars.  Go catch up to your lessons and your Furball. And stay safe.”

“You too.”  Hanging up the call, she’d hug Shiro’s pillow once more and take a deep sighing breath, parting with a smile, ready to set out on a new journey.

@captainkurosolaire

Burned at the Stake || Minghao || Oneshot

Word Count: 2108

Genre: witch!au, fluff

Summary: Minghao wasn’t usually one to meddle in other people’s businesses. But he also wasn’t going to stand by when someone was being innocently murdered.

Woozi // Mingyu // Wonwoo // Seungcheol // Junhui // Hoshi // Joshua //

You couldn’t place how you felt in this exact moment. Was it hatred? Terror? Anger? Sadness? Or perhaps it was betrayal. Whatever it was or however many mixes of negative emotions it was, there was one that that was clear–you were in pain. Of course, being tied to a stake and having your skin seared off did that to you.

Now, how had you ended up in this position?

It started off simply. A girl was jealous. Or, rather, envious. You had what she couldn’t have and that was your boyfriend. One thing led to another and she had accused you of coming into her dreams at night and attacking her. You tried to kill her and you almost succeeded. On top of that, she told your boyfriend that what he felt wasn’t real love–it was witchcraft. Who, in this day and age, she asked, could love someone that deeply? You thought it was absurd. They felt that she was correct. You were a witch.

Witches in this area were not revered like they were in other parts. In other parts, they were gods and deities in mortal form, come to save and protect the humans. Here though, they were the Devil’s helpers. And you had committed the greatest sin of all–you seduced a man and made him a slave to you and your love.

Of course, you knew this was all lies. You knew that you weren’t a witch. You were born and raised the daughter of a baker who had unfortunately passed on now. You were born human, raised human, and if you had not been met with this untimely incident, you would remain human for as long as you lived. Now, you would remain dead.

It was strange how the human brain worked though. You were dying and it was obvious. Your skin was slowly burning and you could smell yourself, like an unappealing meal being cooked at the homeless shelters. Your hair was at your chin and as the flames rose, it was slowly being burned off as well. However, no matter how much pain you were in, you still managed to cry. Screams still managed to leave your mouth. Even at the point where you should have accepted the inevitable, your body rejected it. And your mind rejected it. You were begging for help, praying and hoping that someone–anyone–would come save you. You were lucky the gods felt generous today.

Your savior, or future savior rather, was in the crowd. He stood among them as a human because that’s what he looked like. Hanging from one ear was a long earring that nearly reached his shoulder, an infinity charm dangling from it. On his other ear was two piercings, both simple crystals though a little higher up was a cuff that looked like a dragon. He wore a cloak. An odd attire for this part of the world. And crawling up his neck was another image that looked suspiciously like the dragon on his earring. On his face, he wore a mask of disgust. But not disgust at you. Disgust at them.

No matter what you had done, this was unwarranted punishment. It was cruel and disgusting to treat a human like they were an animal. In fact, your savior didn’t even think humans would treat animals this cruelly.

At first he had wanted to walk away. He was a busy person and he was just passing through town. He had somewhere else to be. He was going home after a several month trip but he had arrived here when they began tying you to the stake and he had stayed to see what they would do. He was not disappointed.

A sigh left his lips as his brows furrowed with trouble. Should he save you? The answer was yes. But did he want to? Also a yes. So the obvious conclusion was…

A dark mass suddenly covered the sun. The people of the town looked up as a heavy storm doused the flames. In the commotion, the young man stepped up to the stake. You weakly turned your head over to him, barely able to focus. You were able to take in his impish features for a moment and registered he was slashing your bondages with…with nothing, before you fell from the stake and slumped against him, losing your consciousness.

The townspeople all gasped in terror and moved back at the sight of this young man. He turned menacingly towards them as the clouds began to gather further.

“Because of a stupid accusation, you were going to kill a human girl,” the young man said.

“She’s a witch!” the girl who had been envious of you proclaimed.

The young man turned towards her and she suddenly felt her limbs freeze up. “Shut it, girl. I know a witch when I see one and she is definitely not. If she had been, do you think she would have allowed you to tie her up?”

There was a murmur through the crowd. The young man turned back towards you, carefully lifting your chin up so he could see you clearer. You poor thing. The young man turned back to the crowd, “I will take her back to my town. Await your punishment from the Heavens.”

And with that, he was gone–a black Chinese dragon taking his place.

“I can’t believe you brought a human into the Witch’s Den. Of all people, Minghao, I thought you were the sensible one.”

Minghao turned to glare at his friend who stood, lazily slumped against the doorway to his room. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung shrugged, shifting against the frame and resting his head against it. “Many people don’t. I give it anyway.”

“Can you leave?”

“No, I came to look at the girl,” Soonyoung pushed himself off the frame and walked over, his arms still crossed across his chest. He clicked his tongue, “Look at those burns…do you think you can heal them?”

“If I can’t, then I’ll just ask Jun,” Minghao murmured.

Soonyoung nodded, “Good idea. Except Jun is out of town.”

“She’ll be fine until then. He’s coming back tonight anyway,” Minghao sighed, sitting back down and getting off his knees.

“Why’d you rescue here? Or rather, where?”

Minghao glanced up at Soonyoung and sighed, folding up his cloak and his jacket. “I passed by that one town–the one that vilifies witches. And I saw her being burned.”

“They burn witches there?”

“It’s an excuse, I think,” Minghao reached over, carefully brushing your hair away from your face. “Someone was just trying to kill her.”

“She’s not even a witch.”

“Exactly.”

Soonyoung shook his head. He nudged Minghao, “So, what are you going to do?”

“They’re going to have a taste of Divine Punishment.”

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow and then tugged at the collar of Minghao’s shirt, looking down until Minghao swatted him away. “Is that why your dragon isn’t here? Did you leave it in that town?”

Minghao nodded. “And it won’t leave until the place is flooded.”

Soonyoung shook his head, shuddering, “I never want to make an enemy of you.”

“Then get out of my room right now.”

Soonyoung jokingly saluted and marched out, closing the door behind him.

Minghao turned back to you with a sigh and a frown. He was afraid to touch you. Healing magic had never been his strong suit and he didn’t want to forever scar your appearance. If he waited for Junhui, he’d be able to do something. He would be able to fix you better than he ever could. But if Minghao messed up now, the effects would be irreversible. It was just a matter of what to do with you before Junhui came back. If you woke now, there would be panic for sure. He would have to put you into a coma. Not that you would really need his help but just in case…

At least you were safe now, Minghao thought as he watched you breathing softly. But what you would do after this, he wasn’t sure. Would you be willing to live with a bunch of witches if they allowed it? Being raised in that community, would probably be against it–thinking that they were agents of the Devil…Minghao found himself worrying about you. It was odd to think he hadn’t even exchanged a word with you, yet he was fretting over your wellbeing. Was it because you were pretty?

Minghao chuckled to himself. Maybe you were an enchantress like they had claimed.

It wasn’t long before Minghao was beginning to nod off, his hand holding yours as if to reassure you that you were fine now even if you couldn’t feel him.

Junhui came home later that night. He was greeted by several people, all telling him that Minghao needed his expertise. This was new. Minghao needed him? Minghao hadn’t needed him since he acquired his dragon, why would he need him now?

Nonetheless, Junhui rushed up the stairs to Minghao’s room and knocked once. When no answer came, he knocked again and then one more time for good measure before he entered on his own. The sight surprised Junhui more than the request for help. Minghao sat beside his bed, his hand holding some random girl’s and this random girl looked charred. Her skin had splotches of scarred tissue and it shocked Junhui to the point he couldn’t move for a second. It wasn’t until Minghao groaned in his sleep that Junhui moved forward, shaking him awake and the first thing Minghao heard was “Who is this?”

Minghao sat up immediately and turned to look at Junhui. He stood, removing his hand from yours, and stepped aside. He nudged Junhui forward, “Can you save her?”

“I mean, yeah, obviously,” Junhui nodded. He vaguely waved a hand, “This sort of thing is a piece of cake. I wouldn’t even need to use my phoenix.”

“Then can you,” Minghao gestured towards you.

“Alright,” Junhui shooed him further to the side and held out his hands over you.

Minghao turned away as a quiet chant began to come from Junhui’s lips. It wasn’t even a minute before the chanting stopped and Junhui mumbled a “See? Easy.”

Minghao turned back around and he couldn’t help the smile that came to his face. Junhui glanced at him, “Um, we might have to give her a haircut but other than that she’ll be fine…she should have woken up though.”

“Oh, I put her in a coma,” Minghao waved a hand over you and turned back to Junhui, “Thank you.”

Junhui nodded, “No problem. No problem…is she your girlfriend–”

“Please leave.”

“Okay,” Junhui turned, leaving without an answer.

Minghao turned back to you and sat down next to his bed again. He watched you silently and noticed your breathing even out. He smiled a little to himself again until you shifted, your eyes fluttering open.

“You’re awake?”

“Am I dead?”

Minghao laughed and your eyes drifted towards him. He shook his head, “No, you aren’t. I managed to save you before any damage was really done.”

“You saved me?”

Minghao nodded.

“You…” you remembered the vague outline of a young man standing beside you as soon as the fire was put out. “Who are you?”

“Xu Minghao,” he said with a smile. “I’m a witch.”

“A witch?”

Minghao smiled, seeing the fear in your eyes. “I’m not going to do anything bad to you.”

“Of course not,” your voice trailed off despite yourself. “You saved me. I should be thankful.”

Minghao nodded and then he reconsidered before he shrugged. “I did save you but Junhui was the one that restored your body. I’ll take you to go thank him once you’re feeling better.”

You nodded shyly.

Minghao shifted on the ground, “What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

“Your name,” Minghao smiled. “What is it?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Minghao murmured under his breath. He smiled and held out his hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

You shook his hand timidly and then turned to him, “Where am I?”

“You’re at the Diamond Witch Den,” Minghao replied. “You can stay with us for as long as you want. You can’t really go back home, can you?”

You pursed your lips. That was true. You were accused of being a witch and then you were subsequently saved by one.

“It’s fine,” Minghao reassured you. His cheerful tone made you look up. “This place can be your home now.”

You felt your cheeks warm and your heart flutter. You nodded, a smile lightly gracing your lips. Maybe this place wasn’t going to be so bad.

Dawn had come and gone over the Promenade, but the inside of the room was darkened by the stormy expressions of its occupants. The strange tundra was sprawled out on a bed of roc down in one of the spacious back rooms of Promenade Medical where full-form dragons could be treated.

Telos hadn't left him. Not even when Zo had returned with Junior and Abaddon. Not when Lutia had shown up in surprisingly cool temper only to be followed by Safiri in a fit of fury the likes of which none of them had ever seen. Telos might have been pressed to control her if Hart had not also made an appearance. His anger was silent, but the pressure of it left little room for anyone else's. Rather it seemed to absorb them, binding them together into a united  force with only one target worth striking at.

So they sat in deep silence, waiting for the tundra to awaken.

From further down the hall, a commotion was heard--a series of breathless 'scuse me, pardon me's that finally arrived at their door in the form of yet another stranger. Tall with the horns of an imperial, Arcane eyes, and fine sea green hair well down to his waist.

"Oh gods," he wheezed. "Is he alright?"

Every eye in the room turned on him, prickly and aggressive. "Who the hell are you?"

Perilous pushed past the strange imperial, and put her arm in front of him protectively. "I'm sorry, your Majesty. This is Floe--my grandson."

Most eyes dropped to his neck, where sure enough a collar of ice threw off its own haze, and the room relaxed slightly. Floe had insisted on staying with Hibernas out on the edges of the old territory. Hibernas was a minor deity of winter in service to the Icewarden, and similarly Floe was in service to Hibernas. It was unclear if the Arcanist simply had no power over them or if they were exempt from exile like the coven was. Either way, Floe had never come to Aphaster. So this was the first time any of them had seen how he looked when he was shifted.

"You came through the portal," Telos mused, turning the ring in her fingers. "It should have reached you that I expressly forbid passage without my approval."

Floe quickly dropped his head. "I did, and I'm sorry. But it was important! That dragon is one of Icewarden's Chosen, Renat; if Hibernas is the like Warden's eyes in the Isles, Renat is the chains. He watches over the things in the ice, in the crystalspines, sometimes even in the waters--makes sure they sleep. I must take him back!"

Hart laid a hand on Floe's shoulder, commanding his complete attention. "This Chosen Renat... He had the ring that belonged to the last of the old Dynasty."

Floe's lips pressed together, and his already near-transparent skin went even whiter. "I see."

"Fragment always had this ring. Always. It had to have been on his person when he went to exaltation." Telos' finger closed tight, creaking around the  offending item. "So I would like to know how Renat came to possess it."

"I understand. If," Floe groped for the right words. Ones that wouldn't ignite the subdued anger filling the room. "If you're worried he somehow retrieved the ring by means related to de-exaltation, I can promise you that wasn't it."

"Can you."

"I can. Chosen Renat would never dabble with the affairs of the gods. The Chosen are only allowed in the Isles because of an old pact. Something about the receding and relinquishing of the Northern Icefield. Any Chosen who profanes the Arcanist is destroyed. That is Law."

Telos stared into Floe's nervous but sincere eyes, and leaned back with a sigh. She didn't know him or Hibernas, but she knew about Law among dragons who were true servants of the Icewarden. If he said that Renat would die by Law if he blasphemed, then the mere fact that he still breathed was proof he hadn't come across the ring by foul means.

"So he just...found it? Why would he be carrying the ring around? He wasn't even wearing it."

Hart sighed. "He is a tundra as well as being a born one of Icewarden's Chosen. He probably thought it an interesting artifact and sought to preserve it."

"That's exactly what I did," came a gravelly growl.

Renat sat up in his bed with clearly foul temper undaunted by his unfamiliar and hostile company. A flash of silver runes shone cold through his fur, and his massive fangs bared themselves as he flexed his aching body.

"What were you even doing up there," Safiri hissed. "That's sacred ground."

Renat stared at her, completely unmoved. "I've noted no less than forty-four completely unaffiliated Arcanites stand where I stood to study the aether. How sacred is it?"

"What she means to say," Telos said sternly, before it boiled into a fight. "Is that a lot of bad things happened to our clan up there. And we'd like to know why and for how long you've had this ring."

"Bad things happen everywhere," Renat said flatly. "The importance you place on that particular patch of dirt has nothing to do with me. Same for that ring. I found it half-buried in the dirt a few eons ago. I preserved it in dry ice."

His eye happened on Junior. He snorted, but did not appear to bear a grudge. "With Flameforger's so close, it's been hard to keep ice magic functioning properly without melt. It was merely a bit frosty when that lad apparently found it familiar and lost his composure."

Telos immediately got out of her chair to keep Abaddon and Zo in check, but that left no one to keep the lid on Lutia.

In spite of the difference in their size, Lutia showed no fear in grabbing Renat by a tuft of his mane and yanking him down to her eye level. "You've been up there often. I can smell the ozone and the cold in your fur. And I know if you think very hard, you will recognize my scent. Big breath now--"

"Yes," she snarled as she saw recognition in his eyes. "That's exactly right, that was me. That 'lad'? What you picked up is his brother and their father's ring. He found the source of their scent, which he hasn’t experienced in seven eons, in a stranger's claws at the place he last saw them. I think he’s owed a loss of composure. So if you demean him again, I will lose my composure."

Renat shifted his jaw around. Certainly it was humbling to come face to face with the source of that excessive Arcane energy from several eons ago, but something more important ate at him.

"You..." He leaned in, his nostrils flaring invasively against her tiny shape. His eyes narrowed. "You were the one who shook the crystalspines, weren't you?"

"I haven't done any magic in the Isles recently," Lutia growled.

"He means the moving of the Seat," Floe squeaked. "As the celestine shattered, so were other things damaged. Many Outsiders have been roused or released."

Renat finally noticed Floe, and immediately rose from the bed. "You. You knew about this? This is your home clan?"

"Yes. You've been busy. You never asked myself or Hibernas for information. You haven't had the time."

"And now I find out who is responsible. Gods, your Arcanist could not have chosen a worse time to stir the Outsiders." He grabbed his hood and staff from the corner of the room and pointed Floe toward the door. "You will debrief me in full on our journey back."

"It's gonna be a lot shorter than you think; I really think you should see Hibernas."

For the first time, Renat's hackles rose. "I think my duty can be done without intruding on the little love nest you keep trying to build with your kidnapper."

Perilous gripped at her sword even as Floe went bright red with both embarrassment and anger. It was technically true that Hibernas had kidnapped Floe. But it was Floe who chose to stay even when his mothers had come to rescue him. It was Floe who loved Hibernas and insisted on staying, not the other way around. Hibernas was lacking in a dragon's common sense, but he was not cruel and he had never once prevented Floe from going home.

"Don't talk about him like that,” he muttered with quivering shoulders. “You don't know either of us."

"It's better that way."

Telos's grip on the ring tightened until veins stood out stark on her hand. "Enough. I can't detain you if you're god-chosen, but I can make your escort out of my territory very rude. Floe hasn't lived among us, but I consider him as my own. Mind your tongue, be about your business, and get the hell out of here."

Floe grabbed Renat and dragged him out, eager to be off before the situation soured even further. Perilous went after them, and could be heard hissing and cussing on her grandchild’s behalf until her voice faded out.

Telos sagged in her seat. Only a little had really happened but it all felt so jumbled. Was the business with the Outsiders something she needed to be concerned with? Renat seemed to have it under control, and it was a problem older than the Seat or any of their woes. Older than the current age for that matter.

Godsdammit. All she'd wanted was to go to the mountain top and get some things of her chest. She felt angry, but Renat had encountered the ring completely by coincidence. And relinquished it so easily. Aside from his complete disregard for others' feelings he really hadn't done anything wrong. But it all still felt wrong somehow, like she should have punished Renat. Like she should have been able to have more control over the situation that she did and his walking out was...anti-climactic. She couldn't even really let herself be happy or grateful to have a memento of her husband for how irrationally vexed she was.

Of course, she might have just been a bit high-strung given she hadn't slept in a full day now. When she finally spoke, it was with a weary finality that plainly said the loose ends of the situation would have to be dealt with another time.

"I'm going to bed.”

Are you mad?

Orange hues kissed Snuffle’s gloved hands causing him to look up; the sun was setting on the sandy hills of Silithus and it was creating quite the display. Before the elf lay a work bench covered in various tools used for making potions and other alchemical creations. His head canted to one side, marveling at the colors that painted the sky however a soft groan broke his moment of peace. With his brows pinched he turned to stare into the tent behind him. A human male lay just within its flaps, movement showing that he was awake after a very long spell of unconsciousness.

Shuffling inside, Snuffles removed his gloves, tossing them to a corner and quickly pouring a glass of water from a pitcher kept close to the cot. “Here, drink.” Kneeling down beside the man he was gentle in his offering of the liquid. “Rest. I found you collapsed in a sand dune not far from the main road- Are you okay?” His voice carried a concerned note for the stranger’s wellbeing.

Fumbling for the cup the man was all too eager to drink, his hands shaking and weak with dehydration partnered with heat exhaustion. After a few moments the man’s cracked lips parted to speak and only a croak bubbled up. Snuffles’ head shook, “Here, try this, it’s an elixir to help moisten the throat and airways in these dry temperatures.” Fishing around in his apron Snuffles procured a small bottle, careful to put a few drops into the cup of water and then offer the beverage again.

Another minute or two passed after the human had consumed the drink and he attempted to speak again. “Am I.. still in Silithus?” Snuffles nodded his head. “Thank you.. My name is Roan, how long have I been out?”

“Only a few hours.” Snuffles patted the man’s arm, “Did you get separated from your caravan?” His brows pinched.

“Ah… No. No caravan.”

Now the elf was intrigued, “Why would anyone be out here alone without business? These aren’t exactly vacation-type dunes. Perhaps Uldum is better suited for visitation of the desert.”

“I have business.” Roan admitted, “A dwarven scavenger camp. I was to make my way to it with supplies but- Where are my supplies?” He tried to sit up and Snuffles eased him back down.

“Your pack and whatever else I could find are outside; I like to keep as little sand in my tent as can be helped. I think I know the camp you speak of, they sometimes trade with me for my healing tonics. You’ll be just fine here. Rest, travel when the sun returns. The desert gets to be rather chilly at night.” Just as Roan began to protest Snuffles placed his palm atop the human’s brow. A soft glow illuminated his hand and his patient’s words began to slur, eyes struggling to keep open until finally Roan’s body lay slumped in a deep sleep. With a quick pat to the human’s cheek Snuffles let out an almost childish chuckle, “But before you go I need you to test a few potions for me first.” Silver eyes illuminated with excitement, digging under the cot for a moment until he pulled out several long belts. Securing his ‘guest’ to the bed he double, then triple checked to make sure there were no chances of physical escape without difficulty. For the finishing touch, a collar with a bell fastened around the man’s neck.

The sound of someone clapping behind him forced Snuffles to turn, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he prepared to sling a spell of smite toward the intruder. “It’s just me.” That coarse voice was still unfamiliar to Snuffles, but his very being seemed to relax as if it knew before he did. A hunched troll stood there, staff in hand and red eyes locked on the night elf with a disapproving scowl. “Come, we need to talk.” He gestured for Snuffles to follow and with a roll of his eyes the elf followed.

“How did you find me, Thaldrin?” It was a frustrating pull, being this close to the troll. As if their souls yearned to be connected once more: both different sides of the same coin. Two halves of the same soul.

“We can always find one another if we try, don’t ask such silly questions.” Thaldrin dismissed the question with the wave of his hand. “I wish you wouldn’t collect strays.”

Snuffles snorted, arms crossing, “I wouldn’t have to use strays if I were given proper test subjects by the apothecary guilds but the only ones that would ever approve would be the Forsaken..” His chin lifted, “But they’re gross and even their experiments cause me moral discomfort.”

“You have morals?” Thaldrin’s brow raised, lips curling around his tusks in mild gest.

Snuffles’ eyes narrowed, “Har, har. What is it that you want? Or are you just checking in on me again? You’re like an annoying sibling I can’t seem to shake.”

Thaldrin’s head shook, “But we aren’t siblings. We’re the same person… How would you feel about becoming one person again?”

For a moment the elf froze, eyes wide and staring as if the troll had grown three heads. “ What? Are you mad? I LIKE being my own person. I hated sharing this body with you, my mind with you. We may be the same soul but we aren’t the same person. Our personalities are vastly different and frankly you’re a stick in the mud!”

With a sigh, Thaldrin moved to run his fingers gently over the tools laid out on the workbench. “No, I’m not mad. I was given a vision… One from Elune herself. I know, I know, I sound insane. Why on Azeroth would the goddess wish to speak to me? To us? We’re broken and I thought irreparable.. But I’ve had the same vision in my dreams and during meditation over and over. If we become one soul again we’ll be fixed. She will repair our minds and mold us together as one person again. Balanced. We can be Thaldrin Spiritleaf again; uplift our name from the tarnish of our father and make mother proud to call us her son-“ There was a danger in Snuffles’ silver gaze at the mention of their mother, even Thaldrin who was not normally frightened by his other half had to give pause.

“I’m not interested. Not just because I don’t believe in your visions, but because I also don’t trust that horrid creature of an entity you call ‘goddess’. She may be your deity but she is no longer mine. We gave ourselves to the moon, everything that we were, and how were we rewarded?” The elf’s words were sharp, anger boiling behind them. “If she were to miraculously aid us, it would be out of guilt and to save face, not to actually help us. She’s as much of a monster to watch her night children suffer as the woman who did this to us.”

It was Thaldrin’s turn to glare, “Don’t ever speak of Elune that way. I know you still believe in her.”

“Believe? Yes. Look to for guidance? Never again. Believe she has touched YOUR mind with visions? To aid us? Don’t make a mockery of me. I WILL NOT rejoin you, Thaldrin. You need to accept what we are now. What YOU got us into.” Snuffle’s teeth bare at the other male and his hands turned toward his work, straightening up the already clean space.

“ME?“ The troll scoffed, “We were the same person then. That was a WE. Why can’t you remember how we used to be? Why don’t you want to be that person again? We were HAPPY then! Now look at us! Broken! Used! Unwelcome! Both of our names illicit FEAR and ANGER! How can you be okay with this?!”

“I’m not okay with it! But if it’s what makes people not try to kill me then I’m okay with it! I’ve been left alone! If you want to go and play hero and stir feelings of joy then so be it! But you have to face the music! WE WILL NEVER BE NORMAL!” Taking a deep breath, Snuffles shoved himself away from his work and began to move around the back of his tent, trying to create space between himself and his other half.

It didn’t work, Thaldrin simple followed, his staff clutched tightly within his hand causing his blue knuckles to turn white. “You lie to yourself. You think you’re happy alone but you aren’t. Neither of us like to be left alone. We like company, friends. We both want allies, people to care about and people to give a damn about us too. Why not TRY? I’m sure if it doesn’t work we can be separated again, but I am telling you, it WILL work!”

Snuffles kept his back to the troll, teeth gritting. “I like being my own person. I want to find a way to fix our souls so that we are our own person. We could be brothers- twins! No one would know the wiser if we found you a proper elven body, not that gross troll. Don’t you like being away fr-“ A loud, hard, thwack struck the back of the elf’s head and he stumbled. Briefly he saw stares, vision turning back as his body fell forward and landed firmly in the sand.

“You will not mess this up for us as you have EVERYTHING else, Snuffles.” Thaldrin glared down at the night elf, poking him once with the butt of his staff to make sure he wasn’t moving before moving to bend down beside him. “I am sorry it has come to this but I am doing this to help us both.” He sighed, “I hate violence…” Re-attaching his staff to his back, the troll bent to scoop his hands under the large elf’s body with the intention of lifting him up.

Snuffle’s turned, sand grasped in his hand flinging it into the troll’s eyes, within his other hand a burning ball of Light that he used to claw down across the tusked face. Thaldrin let out a howl of pain, falling back and trying to get the sand from his eyes. “SNUFFLES!” He bellowed in anger. Sand began to swirl and dry, spiny roots raised from the parted sand, grasping onto the elf before him attempting to pin him down.

“What-? Thaldrin have you lost your mind!? When did I become the sane one! Release me!” Snuffles did his best to rip at the skinny little plants, their spikes causing the man’s hands to bleed, sand soaking up the blood just as the man had thirsted for water in the tent. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Neither do I! So stop struggling!” Thaldrin barked back, finally getting to his feet and standing over the struggling Snuffles. “The vines will stop if you do!”

A snarl ripped through Snuffles’ chest and his body suddenly turned to a transparent, shadowy figure, morphing into an orb and then re-forming outside of the thorned weeds. This was not something Thaldrin had expected; when had his other half become skilled in shadow magic? That shadowy orb turned solid once more, a firm hand gripped the troll’s arm and yanked the massive figure closer to the elf. Using his free hand he twined it’s into Thaldrin’s dreads and let out a hiss, “If you were anyone else I would kill you.” Snuffles hissed through his teeth as a massive amount of magic crashed from the elf and into the troll. No gentleness was spared as he man-handled Thaldrin’s mind into unconsciousness, tossing the body to the sand once he was sure it wouldn’t wake any time soon.

With an angry huff he kicked sand over the troll’s body. “Asshole. Now I have to move again.” Looking to his tent, then to the sky his scowl creased further. He hated working in the dark, hated missing his sleep. Not like he could sleep without a proper potion for it anyway, he’d have to forgo it this evening. Snuffles mumbled elven explicatives under his breath and began cleaning up camp; he’d have to leave his new subject unfortunately, and likely one of his spare canteens of water for his infuriating other half when he finally woke up.

His head shook and his gut told him this argument wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

The Outcasts- chapter 7

The Brotherhood of Forgotten (sometimes called The Siblings) had many hiding places around the globe; Wherever there were people and centers of worship of any of the Twelve Deities there were also agents of the Brotherhood. The cursed Citadel was a very old military garrison, probably Bonta's, judging from the fact that it was built of white stone, abandoned long time, ago before The Ogrest Chaos. In addition, the fortress was attacked by nature to such level an extent that the structure was only lasted thanks to roots, trunks and stems. No one knew why the citadel was deserted, but Toxine, the daughter of god Sram, claimed that it could have something to do with the corpses in the foundation of the fortress (she didn't specify how has she learnt about corpses and how big is this unofficial necropolis). One of the advantages of the citadel was the extensive network of underground dungeons and tunnels. Some have been left by the former residents, others- have been dug by the Brotherhood for various reasons. As a result of these efforts, a number of escape tunnels were built, fourteen ready and five more still in progress. Another advantage was that no one approached it. Out of fear. Agents of the Brotherhood and their prisoners descended from the ship, moored in a small cove near the Citadel, and headed for the ruins. The Citadel hasn't a main gateway from some time, so it was easy to enter the courtyard but to be in the proper chambers belonging to the Brotherhood, you needed to know the right entrance to the tunnels. Ush walked over to the well in the middle of the courtyard and pulled a hover under a canopy that once protected water from pollution that might have fallen with rain. There was a metallic cracking sound, indicating that some hidden mechanism was working. The whole well shook and the stone blocks from which the well's encasing was built slid down to form stairs leading to the hollows in the walls of the tubular column*. "Abandon all hope- You Who Enter Here" muttered Yaga under her breath as she looked down. The Brotherhood's agents and Qilby looked at her in astonishment. "What?" "Pretty poetic... Are you a poet?" the male Cra asked, smiling coquettishly. "God, save me from this!" The girl replied, "Poems about suffering caused by drinking would not be too deep, though... There was a poet who wrote a poem about carrion for his lover" "You can't be serious" the male Cra felt his jaw dropping down. "Fleurs du Mort... Or something like this, I never was good in this" Yaga uncovered her teeth and gums in a wide smile. The shock of everyone here clearly was her source of pleasure. "Robin," Adamai snapped, "stop flirting with everything that moves." "I'm not flirting with everything that moves" Robin the Cra said with a smile. "I'm flirting with every girl who moves. That's the difference" Adamai rolled his eyes; Robin sometimes was driving him mad. Hedonistic, irresponsible...! "Take the old man downstairs" growled Ush to his subordinates who were holding Qilby. "And what with the girl?" Remington raised an eyebrow. "Lady Echo wants to talk to her. Kalmia, she's yours" "Yes, sir" snapped the young Sadida briefly, and pulled Yaga with her into one of the tunnels. ------------------------ "Alright. If you showed me a photo of your boss lady at the very beginning I wouldn't be so stubborn" Lady Echo figured that her "guest" was standing in the doorway- the girl from nowhere, called Yaga. The half-goddess glanced at the slim figure watching her silhouette in a black dress. And she had to admit that Kalmia has done great job. After fighting the agents and later traveling by boat, Yaga was a bit... rumpled, so young Sadida helped her to put herself together. After the bath, Lady Echo's guest got a new outfit: a dark blue tunic, brown trousers and black boots, and Kalmia added a little of eyeshadow... and probably a little powder on her cheeks. It could be a trifles, but they made Yaga look more feminine. And more pleasing for the Demigoddess's eye, by the way. "Forgive me for the incompetence of my people... and their brutality. Most are simple people and don't have too much subtlety" Lady Echo smiled friendly (or at least she hoped it was a friendly smile). "I'd like to recompense it to you somehow. Please sit down, dear" The green-skinned woman pointed to one of the chairs at the table in center of chamber carved out in rock. Yaga smiled, a bit crooked. Respect for your subordinates is the key to their loyalty, as her teacher used to say. So if someone talked about their people like Echo did, the red light came on in the girl's head immediately, and some voice (oh, she knew well whose it was) was whispering Watch out. Besides everything in Echo and her people was somewhat suspicious. Shushu collar to force someone to obey? It was dangerously close to slavery. "From what I've heard, Lady Echo, you want my... talents to be part of your big Case," Yaga began. "But... I have no idea what that Case is. I prefer to know what kind of mark I will get if I agree" "Of the liberator, my dear. One of many" Echo responded calmly, pouring a wine for herself and her guest. "Our Brotherhood wants to liberate the people of this world." "How do you want to do this? In the name of what ideals?" Yaga tried to ignore this my dear part. "No offense, Madame, but I've heard about many people who were called liberators of the people... and most of them have died in pain, often with the help of the previously mentioned people" "Oh, really?" The Brotherhood's leader raised her eyebrow. She didn't believe her. "Not all of them were dicks, of course" she sighed. "But do you really think people care who is going to burn at the stake?" "We can't be killed, just like that," Echo laughed, revealing her sharp fangs. "Right, the demigods," jagged Yaga. "But if You want to do something, very, very much, one day you are gonna to do this. And you still haven't answered my question. What Your case is?" "Does anyone who leaves their own children sentencing them to eternal loneliness and condemnation on the part of their environment deserves to rule anything or anybody?" Lady Echo's good mood suddenly disappeared. Of course. The main problem of the vast majority of the demigods. Why the heck did she even ask at all?! "You want to push them off the pedestal," Yaga muttered. "Destroy the worship of The Twelve Gods. And take their place, don't you? Who is the better successor of the old gods than their offspring?" "Oh, you're so smart..." The demigoddess was smiling again. Yaga was pretty sure that in this moment she smelled too strong scent of Vaseline "Powerful, unique and smart. You will be a wonderful sister. All you have to do is agree. So how will it be?" Funny. Yaga could swear she heard it somewhere. "Generally, I have always supported left-wing anarchism, in some way, of course" the dark-haired girl sighed. "Especially this part where governments and religions are no more, so your case is a little close to me. And my answer is...

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

* Okay, my description probably didn't give You a good image of this construction so... I was inspired by the Initiation Wells in portuguese Quinta da Regaleira. (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quinta_d…).

Martians

Based on a prompt from writing-prompt-s.

Martians have just made contact, and reveal that their religious system revolves around astral bodies, and Earth (“The Blue God,” as the Martians call it) is their head deity. You are sent as the first emissary to convince the Martians not to worship Humanity as angels and gods.

"Greetings, Angels of The Blue God. We call ourselves Vencives. It gives us great pleasure to formally speak with you after so many millennia."

In 2096, the world changed when the martians made contact. There were people in shock and awe over the new knowledge that we were not alone in the universe. Others didn't know what to do with the news. There were reports of suicides, riots, and even murders being conducted for people were losing their grasp on their minds.

Government leaders around the world gathered to discuss what the best course of action was. Martin Kolkov, the dictator of New Russia, suggested military tactics. Gabriella Rodriguez, the first elected female President  the United States of America after the Civil War of 2042 (which consists of the states east of the Mississippi River), suggested sending a reply to their initial message.

After many months, the leaders finally decided to send a reply.

"Vencives, we are the humans of Earth. Why do you call us Angels?"

For them to explain that our solar system was viewed as Gods, and the inhabitants seen as blessed Angels allowed to live among the Gods, was definitely not what anyone expected. "The Blue God," as they had called Earth, was explained to be their Head Deity, for we had the most "Angels" present among the planets.

They sent another message shortly afterward explaining that they would be honored to speak with Angels physically, and would be sending down a space craft for us to send emissaries to speak on our behalf. They detailed that the craft would be adjusted to accommodate "Angel" life, like adjusting the atmosphere inside to be mainly oxygen based, plant-life similar to ours to help give new oxygen, and a fresh water supply.

Now the leaders had a new problem. Who would they send? Who would agree to such a thing? Of course there were scientists that were eager, but the prospect that they could very well never return dampened their drive to volunteer. Astronauts were suggested, but even they were skeptical and reluctant to go. No one knew when the spaceship would arrive, or how many people it would be able to hold.

Finally, they had a volunteer after searching for 3 months. Me.

Charlotte Abernathy, a 24 year old college graduate who was working as a tour guide for the White House. I was studying History and religions.

A week after I volunteered the craft arrived at the Eiffel Tower in Paris. A hiking bag and a luggage were filled with clothes and provisions to last about a month. I was flown to Paris and driven to the location of the craft.

I spoke with my Catholic parents during the drive there. They both were crying. They had never expected any situation of the sort to happen, much less their only child being the one to go.

The space craft was large, and the bay door opened automatically when I approached. I waved goodbye to the people gathered around to witness the event. I nodded at the press cameras covering the historic moment.

Finally, I am alone in the craft. Garbled speech sounds over the speakers somewhere overhead, followed shortly afterward with a robotic voice translating the instructions.

"Welcome, Angel. If you would please follow the corridor to your left, you will find some seats your size with some straps. Please strap in so we can launch."

I nod silently to myself, unsure if there are also cameras around, and begin my trek down the left corridor. It was easy enough to spot the seats, and not hard at all to figure out how the straps worked.

As soon as the last clip was closed, the space craft began to hum loudly and shake a smidgen before taking off from the ground and shooting into the air. I could feel the familiar pressure of movement, reminding me more of the time I drove my father's convertible and less of driving my own sedan.

After what felt like an hour later, the ship slowed to a pleasant speed. That same garbled speech, almost like someone trying to speak with water filling their mouth, sounds again over some speakers. A moment later the robotic voice translates again.

"Please remove the straps and proceed down the corridor. Take a right at the first intersection and enter the door on your right. That will be your rest room during your stay on this craft."

I unclasp the straps and stand. Hauling the overstuffed bags back on is more difficult without help, but I finally manage it and continue on my way. Once I reach the designated room, the door automatically slides open to the right when I approach. I step inside and quickly look around.

It was simple. The bed was large, much larger than any beds we have on Earth. Like it was designed for something larger than us. The toilet (if you could even call it that) sat in the corner just a few feet from the bed. There is no sink, but a bath is placed along the right wall. If I wanted to, I could probably reach my leg out and touch the tub from my seat on the toilet.

There are a couple shelves; I'm going to assume it's for my belongings. I move there first and place the luggage of provisions on the ground beneath the shelves. I plop down the backpack as well, deciding to go through it later. I cautiously approach the bed and put a tentative hand on it. There are no pillows, no blanket, and no sheets. Just a mattress made of a material similar to cotton, but it has a scratchier feel. Almost like wool, but not quite. I'm sure they had to make do with what they had, and I appreciate the effort they put into this.

Before I can do much else, I hear the door slide open behind me. I quickly turn around and I can't believe what I see before me.

The figure is large, covered head to toe with an astronaut-like suit that's a bright sunset orange. It's obvious to me now that THIS is what the mattress was originally designed for. In their arms are bundles of fabric, most likely the blankets that were missing from before. The helmet is filled with water, and shows the only part of this creature I can see.

The Vencive's skin (scales?) is a pale green, from what I can tell. It has large eyes that are able to see forward and its sides without having to turn their head. It's hard to tell exactly, but I think I see some gills near the base of their neck on either side. The Vencive smiles, if you could call it that. The sharp teeth lining its wide jaw are freakish; I feel a shiver run through me at the sight.

They move their mouth as if speaking, and I can hear a faint garbled noise similar to before. It isn't long before I hear a feminine robotic voice coming from the suit's collar.

"Greetings, Angel of the Blue God. To better accommodate you, we have selected new titles you may call us by, since our names do not translate to your tongue. You may call me Barbie."

I stifle a laugh.

"If you don't mind me asking; are you an egg-layer or a breeder?"

I blink slowly for a moment before realization dawns on me. She's asking my gender.

"An egg-layer. Although we call ourselves women and the breeders are men. There are more types, but let's just keep it simple for now. My name is Charlotte. But you can call me Charlie." I move to sit on the bed. "Since you asked me, are you an egg-layer or a breeder?"

"I'm a breeder."

I would have done a glorious spit take if I had been taking a drink. Instead I choke on the spit I was attempting to swallow.

I hurry to my bag to grab a water bottle as I hear Barbie sputtering his speech behind me.

"I apologize, Charlie. I didn't realize my reply would have this effect on you." The monotonous female voice does nothing to convey his concern.

Once I can breathe regularly I subconsciously give him a dismissive wave.

"It's quite alright. It was my own fault." I put the cap on the bottle and set it on the shelf.

Barbie gestures to it as he speaks again. "What is that liquid?"

"It's water. The same thing you have in your suit, right?"

I see his eyes blink sideways and I feel another shiver at the sight. Freaky.

"Yes. You consume it?"

"Oh yeah. Human bodies are consisted of 70% water, and we use that water for many different things. Digesting food, expelling toxins, crying, and more. We have to drink water to replace what we use."

"Fascinating. Angel life is so strange."

I quickly shake my head.

"I'm not an Angel."

Barbie gets this 'ah-ha!' expression. He nods his head and speaks as he moves to the bed with the fabric still in his arms.

"I see. So you must be one of the few Gods living among them. I'm very honoured to speak with you."

"Barbie, no. I'm not a God, either. I'm just a human from Earth trying to get through life so I can die at an old age. I'm not any holier than you are."

Barbie begins dressing the mattress with bedding as he speaks.

"We have been taught all our lives that the Blue God or Earth, as you call it, is home to millions of Angels that have lived as Vencives previously. They lived their lives for the community and never put themselves first. They were kind and shared everything with everyone. Once death welcomes them, their spirits are reborn into Angels, and live among your planets depending on how well they lived before. The better their life, the more likely it is that they will be with the Blue God. You see, our planet is covered with 90% water, so it is seen as a blessing to be reborn on a land dwelling planet."

Guilt weighs down at my heart. How am I supposed to convince them that we are not Angels and Gods when their whole religious system is engraved into their society? That would be like trying to convince my Catholic parents that doing good deeds isn't going to get you into heaven.

Despite my fear of his appearance, I find myself moving toward Barbie as he fluffs a pillow. To put my hand on his shoulder I have to stretch my arm out as far as it will go. He looks back at me as he sets the pillow down. He smiles again as he turns toward me, and I find the smile more disarming than before.

I hesitate a moment before attempting to wrap my arms around his waist in a hug. My head rests on his stomach, and the height difference makes me feel like a child hugging my parents.

Barbie stares down at me. He speaks slowly.

"What are you doing?"

"It's called a hug. It's something we do on my planet with family and friends."

"Friends?"

I move back from him and look up at his eyes. They look... sad?

"Yeah, friends. You know beings you talk to, share stories, spend time with, and enjoy being around on occasion."

Barbie shakes his head and speaks again.

"We don't have friends here. Just the community."

I frown at first, but my optimism makes me grin up at him.

"Well you do now."