Just got called ‘flat ear’ by a Dalish and while it’s not like that’s offensive or hurtful, I’m losing my mind because girl??? I may not be an elf but do my bigass Qunari ears LOOK flat to you??

I mean. Girl they are JUST as pointy and elongated as yours are.

Why

Cato Hadley x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2108 words

Warnings: none

Summary:  Reader is a tribute for the Hunger Games, no one thinks she’s going to make it until Cato steps in. The one thing you don’t understand is, Why does he care? 

Updated version of “Why Does He Care” an old fan favorite. 

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They knew you wouldn’t win. 

It hadn’t even registered as a possibility in most of their minds, but that didn’t matter all that much. 

All the game makers cared about was that you made a show of it, and if you could, got stabbed in view of one of the thousands of cameras surrounding the arena.

That was all you had to do. 

You weren’t the strongest, the fastest, or the smartest that your district had to offer and everyone seemed to have already come to terms with the fact that you would be leaving the arena in a body bag.

They just didn’t see how a woman of your status and stature could ever hope to compete with others in the games. Against the Careers, a group of highly trained young people whose lives revolved around being able to win, you would surely meet your end. 

However, you weren’t going to just accept defeat right off the bat. 

Even if you didn’t win, you were going to put up one hell of a fight once that canon went off. You owed that to your family, and your district, and yourself. 

No one in their right mind wanted to participate in the Hunger Games,and you certainly didn’t want to either, but you had been chosen to represent your district and you weren’t going to shy away from the responsibility. 

At the very least, you had to try. 

If nothing else, the fact that no one believed in you could serve as an extra push, the push you would need to take down as many other tributes as possible in the process. 

You knew that you could do that. 

Though, that fire did sort of dull as soon as you walked into the large training room, surrounded by all the other tributes from all the other districts. Once you got a look at them up close, you were less sure of yourself than you had ever been. 

How quickly it had all changed.

From the moment you walked into that room, which was more of a cell of brushed aluminum and cool steel, you were forced to recon with the reality of the situation. 

This was happening. 

You were going to die. 

The way in which you would die wasn’t something you were all that fond of considering, but as best you could tell, the Career pack would be to blame. 

Stories of what they were capable of, training tirelessly to volunteer for their games and slaughter the competition were widespread all over Panem but you couldn’t have imagined how intimidating they were in real life. 

Each one of them was a skilled, and accurate, death machine and you had no chance of surviving an altercation with even the weakest among them, who you had ultimately decided was Glimmer. 

She was talented and smart but lacked the determination that the others had. 

Even in her case though, you could see what they always said about the Careers. They were raised to believe there was no other point to their lives other than to win the Hunger Games. 

If they didn’t win, they weren’t worth anything, not that it would matter. If they didn’t win, they would end up just the same as all the rest of you, in a shallow grave somewhere. 

That was just how it was. 

You did your best to keep to yourself at first, not wanting to elicit any more violence than absolutely necessary right off the bad. It was no secret to you that the other tributes didn’t take you seriously. 

The last thing you wanted was for them to try and prove themselves at your expense before you were out in that arena. 

Unfortunately, the other tributes, namely the Careers, had already made up their minds. In the few days that you had been training, they had been making fun of you the entire time.

For them, it was one big joke.

When they looked at you, it was clear that all they saw was the first person they were going to stick their swords into. They didn’t take you seriously at all and at this point, you weren’t even sure if you blamed them. 

Each time you threw a punch or swung your axe at a target, they hooted and hollered from their place on the sidelines and called you out for each imperfection they saw in your maneuvers, and they weren’t wrong. 

You had no idea what you were doing. 

This was all new for you, because where you were from, hand to hand combat just wasn’t something you would have ever come across. Before now, you hadn’t even seen most of the things in front of you here. 

You were out of your element.

By the end of the first week, you hadn’t even begun to make any progress. However, there was one thing that had changed and you couldn’t even pinpoint when or why it had happened. 

At some point, Cato had stopped criticizing you in the same way his compatriots were.

You weren’t sure why he would even bother, but seeing as you didn’t really talk to him, you couldn’t ask. It was much easier to just be silently grateful for the break, and try to focus on what you were doing. 

While it wasn’t looking good to start, you didn’t want to sabotage your chances of survival with any more wasted time.  

The other Careers had noticed the change in him too, but not one of them dared to comment on it, even if it didn’t make any sense to them. The anger that they would risk in doing so just wouldn’t be worth getting answers. 

Instead, they let him do whatever it was he was doing, waving it off as some kind of tactical maneuver. He knew what he was doing, and it wasn’t their place to ask too many questions and get him off his game. 

When Cato first headed in your direction, closing the vast distance between you on the training floor, you assumed that he was intent on proving to you just how out of place you were here. 

...But that couldn't have been farther from the truth. 

In truth, what Cato was doing was far from a tactical measure. More than anything, he just couldn’t bring himself to make fun of you anymore. 

He didn’t think that your weight alone was enough to warrant the constant abuse you were suffering. 

Besides, It was clear that you were putting in a lot of work to get better, which was more than most of the other tributes were doing. You weren’t going to take this lying down, which he could respect. 

From the looks of it, your technique just needed some polishing, and you would be just as good a fighter as anyone here, with the exception of himself.

“You need to strike higher” he prompted, coming out of nowhere and nearly shocking you out of your fighting stance. You had been so focused that you didn’t even hear him approach. 

Still, it didn’t occur to you that he might have been trying to help at first. After all this time, he didn’t strike you as the friendly, just trying to help type. He was much more of the scowl and stab sort of person. 

You couldn’t be blamed for feeling that way. 

“Strike higher” he repeated, closing the space between you to wrap his arm around your frame, moving your axe in the exact way he had been telling you to do. 

There was nothing snide or rude in his tone, but you couldn’t focus on that.

All you could think about were his strong hands on your body, and the clear concern he had for whatever in the world he could have wanted from you. 

You tensed under his touch, desperately trying to decipher how you had gotten to this point or what you were supposed to do now that you were here. 

There was nothing particularly romantic about his touch, which you understood, but it was still foreign to be on the receiving end of. No one had ever held you like this, under any circumstances.

“Hit here, not here” he muttered, his voice far too close to your ear this time, forcing a breath from your lungs you weren’t aware you’d trapped there. He moved the axe, and your arm attached to it, to demonstrate what he meant. 

...And as much as you hated to admit it, he was right. 

When he moved his arms, in succession with his words, he hit the target at jugular height, instead of in the trunk where you had been aiming.

It was a much better hit than you had been landing all day, showing how much more experience he had with this than you. 

“Thanks” you muttered, glancing at him quickly, desperately hoping that he wouldn’t look at you but you wouldn’t have been so lucky.

Cato looked down just at the same moment as you turned your head to take in his profile. 

You expected him to say something about it but he offered nothing, content to just stare back down at you with a slight smirk on his face. 

“Somebody bigger than you is going to be able to push back if you aim here” he explained finally, lightly resting the palm of his right hand against your abdomen where you’d been aiming before. 

It made sense, of course. 

“If you aim at the weakest part, it doesn’t matter how much stronger an opponent is” he hummed, this time bringing that same hand up to where your throat was, not missing the way you gulped under his touch. 

“And you can’t kill anyone aiming at their ankles” he laughed, shrugging at that, as if he shouldn’t have to explain that part to you. Even someone who knew nothing about this wasn’t going to be shocked at that. 

Cato just didn’t want you to think that he was playing some sort of sick game with you. He was really trying to help, even if that wasn’t really in his nature. 

Never in his life had Cato cared about anyone, or been drawn to another person like he was with you. 

His entire life was all about winning the games, and there was nothing more than that. 

That was all he’d ever cared about. 

...But for some reason, making sure that you survived this whole thing was becoming really important to him. 

There was just something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on, but whatever it was, he didn’t have all that much time to figure it out. This whole thing was happening, whether he wanted it to or not. 

The best thing he could do for you was prepare you to survive, with or without him. 

“Oh, I couldn’t kill anyone” you hummed, doing your very best to be as nonchalant about it as you could. You were doing your best to figure out how to protect yourself out there but you had already made you mind up on that front. 

You weren’t going to kill anyone. 

It was something you had decided on before you even knew your name had been drawn the day of the reaping, but this was new information for Cato. 

New information that almost shocked him into silence. 

Cato had always known that he would need to kill someone, at some point. It was never a question in his mind, or something that even had any effect on him. It was part of his life, and to hear that someone else had never even considered it was new for him. 

If you didn’t kill anyone the entire time you were in the arena, you would die. 

You had to know that. 

Surely you knew that. 

“If you don’t, you’re going to die” he spoke, the words leaving his lips before he even had time to react. There was a finality to it, something you hadn’t seen coming, and at first, you thought it may have been a joke. 

The two of you really didn’t know each other all that well, or at all, so making jokes seemed sort of strange but it wasn’t necessarily something that upset you. 

You were just shocked at his urgency. 

This really was something that was bothering him, but there was one thing that was still bothering you. This was the first time you had ever spoken to him in your life, and as flattered as you were that he cared about what happened to you, it didn’t make any sense. 

Why did he care about someone like you? 

You and your words | Hendery

❤︎ Prince!Hendery x female!reader ❤︎ Fluff, Smut, Smut, Angst, Royalty AU, best friends to lovers, fuck buddies for some time hehe ❤︎ 3/4 for LOVE MONTH SERIES: Boys Don’t Cry One is a big number

One is a big number | You and your words | Sweet | He loves me, he loves me not |

Summary: You and prince Hendery are good friends... who lust for each other and trying so hard not to fall in love. But your mother, an ambitious woman, wants to use prince Hendery to improve the status of your family.  

Word count: 9,614k

Warnings: Unprotected sex, virginity loss, making out, best friends but they lust for each other, masturbation (male), mentions of masturbations (female), they think of each other when they masturbate ano ba, fingering, a lot of kissing, dirty talk, corruption, slight exhibitionism, mentions of oral sex, fuck buddies for some time, dirty talking... but through love letters.... haha, mentions of other idols, strict parents, mother issues, Hendery being a spoiled prince, slight cheating, a lot of bad decisions, you might get mad to Hendery or reader?

A/N: PURE FICTION. PURE FICTION. PURE FICTION. inspired by the Netflix series Bridgerton and First Burn from Hamilton. 

For my baby’s Love Letter event, @neosmutcollective​ HAPPY CUPID DAY!

February 14

My dearest best friend,

I am inviting you to my family’s soirée and ask you to accompany me the whole night. In return, I will sing praises about you to my cousin Xiaojun.

Prince Hendery

Everyone knows that an invitation to the queen’s soirée is the holy grail and it is very hard to be invited especially if the queen or king does not know you personally. But you, the ever so beautiful Y/n, is friends with their son Prince Hendery. So it’s up to you to claw your way to the top and to honor your family. At least that's what your mother wants you to do.

You don’t request anything from the prince, no. Everything that he does or gives to you is voluntarily and because he loves you dearly. As a friend.

It all began when he accidentally bumped you a little too hard because he was in a hurry to avoid a certain dance with someone he does not know. You were both in your teenage years at that time and it was a season where young people were rather picky. The young gents always look for the prettiest most flawless lady, and the young ladies always.... well, avoid anyone or everyone unless he's the prince.

You were quite young by that time and you didn’t care about courting, suitors, love letters, or expensive flowers. That’s why you didn’t know what the prince looked like nor his name, because you didn’t care at all.

“My apologies my lady, I didn’t see you” he offered his hand and pulled you from the ground. It was so kind of him to help you get up and straighten your dress. Not to mention he kissed the back of your gloved hand and apologized again.

“It’s fine. Is someone running after you?” you pursed your lips and hugged yourself to protect yourself from the cold. The palace gardens have it’s unique February breeze, you thought.

“Here,” he smoothly removed his coat and put it around you. “I’m Hendery” he smiled when he finally realized that you don’t know who you are with right now.

“Y/n. The ball is kind of boring and quiet. N-no offense to the queen and her family but everyone seems so uptight and pushing us, the young people to entertain the adults- I’m sure you understand what I’m saying here” your tone was a little loud and the annoyance caused by your mother is slowly showing.

“Very much. In fact, I was running away from a dance that I don’t want to be a part of” he giggles so handsomely to show his support for what you’re feeling right now. "Love is the last thing that I desire right now but my mother wants me to entertain a bunch of women and converse for some time with their mother or father"

“How many girls did you entertain tonight?” you asked back, and also giving back his coat because you’re about to leave him.

“Two. My mother and my sister” he answered proudly which made you smile and let out a small laugh. At least between the two of you, he has the freedom to say no.

When you finally got back to the boring party, your mother was quick to fix your hair and fluff your dress before she pushes you again on the dance floor and dance with the prince. She told you she went to great lengths so you could have some time to dance with the crowned prince even if it’s just for a few seconds.

“Work your magic young lady, enchant the prince, and try to make him interested in you. Be useful like your sisters, be engaged to the prince soon and all is well” your mother’s exact words.

Ah right. Of course, your mother’s priority is to use you as bait to the bigger fishes so you could earn their love and respect. So with a heavy heart and feet, you walked in the middle of the dance floor, feeling so ashamed and humiliated for you were so sure that the prince will not show up because he does not have any interest.

Tears are starting to ball at the corner of your eye but you felt a shiver on your spine when someone tapped you from behind.

Lo and behold, prince Hendery came and graced you with his attention.

“Are those tears?” He was quick to grab your hand and waist to save you from the humiliation but the place started gossiping in no time. You can hear people asking one another if you’re royalty, where did you come from and why is the prince only interested in having a dance with you.

“I’m sorry my prince,” you cleared your throat and hope that your face is pleasing, “we meet again, I have no idea that you’ve been gracing me with your time already. My apologies”

He let out a small laugh before he twirled you. “That’s Hendery, not prince Hendery. The quick moment that I shared with you outside made me feel that I’m free” he whispered beside your ear. So sincere, so true, but it sounded like he’s calling for help.

“Thank you prince Hendery, my mother is pleased”

“I too. I mean, the queen is pleased”

“How about you, your grace, are you pleased?”

“Very much pleased. Tell me, what’s your name?” You stepped back and bowed down to him, as low as you can.

“Lady Y/n L/n, your grace” you smiled and slowly recovered from your bow.

And in that very moment, while a unique friendship is slowly blooming in the middle of the dance floor, everyone started hating you even before knowing your name or family name.

But for prince Hendery, it’s a name that he will never forget and love starting that night.

From there on you and prince Hendery became the best of friends, making the whole town jealous and making everyone crave your attention, begging for you to answer the golden question which is, “Are you two in love with each other?” Something neither you nor Hendery can’t answer because you do love each other, but not deep enough.

Months and years have passed and still, you and prince Hendery please your mothers by being sweet whenever you have eyes watching. Balls, birthday parties, luncheons, soirées, all to which you and prince Hendery had a great time making everyone jealous. Like tonight, where prince Hendery should be right beside you because you are his guest but he is nowhere to be found. Until one of his guards came to you and told you, “Prince Hendery is asking for you in his bedroom, my lady” thankfully it was a whisper, or else it could have been a big scandal.

You have never stepped foot into prince Hendery’s room even though the two of you are incredibly close. No one can enter a royal bedroom except family, guards, maids, or his future fiancé. That’s why you were nervous while you continue to question yourself, ‘what are you doing here?’ until you found yourself in front of the prince’s bedroom and his guard opened the door for you.  

“Are you going to marry me?” You asked after the guard shut the door, teasing your best friend and not coming any closer to him.

“Will you please come join me to bed? I’m sad” he pouted so cutely and lie on his side. “You look lovely tonight. The flowers I sent you this morning match your dress perfectly, I picked it from the garden where we first met” he added.

You giggle and told him to look at your head, there he saw a flower from the ones he sent you. “Creative,” he says and pats his bed one more, still asking for you to lie beside him. Of course, you gave up eventually, but you lie so far from him that he had to pull the sheets a little too harshly to get a hold of you which completely startled you and made you nervous. “Much better,” he says, face closer to you than ever that his breath touches your skin.

“No more games my prince, why did you summon me here?” you’ve never been close to Hendery like this. If the queen hears about this, you and your family will be in trouble.

“Nothing special, I just want to be free before I become the night's hot topic” he admitted.

“That's why I'm here. I promise to drag you away whenever someone is coming” He smiles at your effort to cheer him up, “or would you prefer dancing the whole night so we don't get disturbed?” you offered him a hug while you two lie in bed comfortably. “Everything will be fine as long as Im here” you added.  

“Exactly, that's why I called you here” he smiles and closed his eyes, listening to the distant violin playing from downstairs. And to make him feel better, you threw away your shyness and rest your head on his chest. He automatically wraps his arms around you and giggled while his eyes were still closed. Secretly happy that you’re slightly on top of him while his embrace becomes tighter and tighter by the second until your face is much closer to his face again when he rolled on the side dragging your body with him.

Shyness creeps in your bones again as he looks at you deeply. Making your body incredibly warm by just looking at you and keeping your body close. You tell yourself, ‘look away, it’s improper to look at your prince like this’ but you can’t and you don’t want to.

“If I ask you to kiss me, will you say no to me?” he bravely asked, eyes hoping for you to say yes. But when you’re taking too long to answer, you saw the disappointment in his eyes, and his embrace was becoming loose. “I’m sorry for being a fool-“

To his surprise, you didn’t answer him through your words but through your actions. You kissed your prince friend on the lips which he returned without hesitation. He was happy and he’s proving it by the way he kisses you, smiling in between taking breaths, letting out a soft moan whenever he’s being too carried away. You didn’t expect to love the way how his lips touch yours, you didn’t expect him to be a good kisser but it was so good that when you closed your eyes you thought you were in a cloud and an angel is kissing you.

It was slow and not rushed. It is as if time stopped while your heads were turning and your tongues were fighting for dominance while no one noticed that your fingers are intertwined. When he pulled away and kissed your forehead to end the moment, he thanked you for not refusing and even asked you where did you learn to kiss like that. “I’m glad the first lips I ever kissed is owned by a woman who truly, cares for me” he smiles and kissed the back of your hand one too many times before he got up from his bed, and offered his hand to help you.

That night, while you and prince Hendery were kissing privately, something sparked inside him that he had never felt before. You may not know but during the party, prince Hendery noticed that you can be someone he can be in love with.

February 19

My dearest Y/n,

Have you been well? When can I see you again? Did you receive the flowers that I sent you and your mother? Perhaps I could pay you a visit and we can have a picnic somewhere private.

I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about the kiss we shared.

Prince Hendery

Days after that beautiful kiss, prince Hendery sent you beautiful flowers, one for each corner of your home that even your mother was impressed and had the wrong idea. Of course, she thought the prince is courting you and that sending you many expensive flowers is a sign that he is now ready to show his seriousness to you.

“May I see that letter, dear?” she reached out her hand, waiting for you to hand prince Hendery’s recent letter.

“Mother, I’m sure the prince will not be pleased with your idea," you said in the nicest way but the tone of your voice had a hint of begging. Why must she put you in this position? Your own mother. She walked slowly towards you and snatched the letter from your hand and watch your mother betray you in front of your eyes.

After reading, she was very much amused and happy by what she just read. “the kiss we shared, eh?” she said with a smirk. “Write back-“

“I will not” you talked back.

“Write back or I will” she said with a stern voice, “you are to write back and flatter the prince. Tell him you want to happen again, tell him to invite you again to one of his family’s events”

“Mother, I don’t talk like that”

“Whatever, just do as I say For our family’s name, for our family’s sake. Be useful like your sisters” she straightens up her posture and told you to go to your room and write the letter.

You thought that your mother understood the friendship that you have with Hendery but turns out she still wants to use you as bait and to get the attention of the royal family. It sickens you, to be honest. Because Hendery is a decent person, always nice to you and your family and also you love him dearly as a friend.

As you look at the blank paper and arrange your thoughts, trying so hard to talk like how your mother wants but you just can’t. So instead, you told him the truth and what your heart says.

February 19

Dear Prince Hendery,

You care for me always, I am well thank you for asking.

Apologies for not being around these days, I was catching up with some readings. I did receive the lovely flowers, they were very beautiful my mother was pleased.

I miss you awfully. And the private picnic you offered sounds wonderful and can be arranged for tomorrow.

Lady Y/n

“No mention of the kiss?” prince Hendery whined to his best friend Ten while he watches him clean his hands from their afternoon hunt.

“Maybe the story that you told me is just part of your imagination,” Ten laughed.

“It’s not. It’s much real- how can I bring this up to her again? I want it to happen again”

“Oh, you’re a spoiled prince. When will you change? Tell me my, friend, do you love her, or you’re willing to use her for your desperateness?” it was a bold question to open the eyes of the prince.

“I do love her but, it’s very little and I’m sure I’m driven by my lust” the prince admitted.

“Then court her. Feelings can grow and the next thing you know, you now have a queen. And your mother will be pleased”

Hendery shook his head to show his disappointment to his friend. He may be the prince but he believes that he’s not born in this world to merely please his mother but to follow what his heart really wants. Like to marry the one he loves.

On the next day, as promised, the prince planned a private picnic for just the two of you and it was perfect. Being with prince Hendery is like an escape from the reality of your home and for prince Hendery, being with you makes him feel normal. “The sun feels good, doesn’t it?” he put a strawberry in your mouth and watch you chew it while you lie comfortably on his lap.

Since when did you two start to exchange flirty glances? you asked yourself. But you shrugged it off and continue to mind your thoughts. You may not know but it’s obvious that your mind is not in this picnic and prince Hendery can see right through you, he knows something is bothering you so he asked you. “Nothing my prince, I’m just thinking and admiring the perfect weather,” you said with the slightest of interest.

“Why are you so proper when you’re writing to me or when you’re with me? What's the matter? Speak your mind your prince demands it,” he ate another strawberry and you got up from your comfortable position.

“That’s not fair,” you said because you can’t tell him what’s really on your mind.

“It was meant to be a joke, what’s wrong?”  

He will never give up until you tell him something that will stop his curiosity, so you didn’t have a choice but to lie. “Having no suitors and my desire to escape from reality. That bothers me” you said and tried diverting your attention by indulging at the feast in front of you.

“Maybe there’s a reason for that. Look for a suitor that's very much like me” he says boldly, looking at you deeply like he’s telling you the answer is right in front of you already. And to be honest, a suitor that’s very much like the prince doesn’t sound so bad. He’s a gentleman, has good intentions, and also a good kisser.

“I will keep that in mind. Now read me poetry and tell me stories,” you went back to your comfort on his lap and listen to him talk while you two bask under the beautiful weather. He reads you tons of poetry that sounded real and full of emotions, tells you stories about his childhood and the things that he wants to do in life, even fed you with the palace gossips, and made you laugh. Again, the picnic is perfect and prince Hendery once again provided an escape from your ugly thoughts.  

You watch the sun go down while you both finish the wine in your cups and eat the leftover cheese because there's nothing left anymore. Both a little tipsy from the wine already, laughing and giggling before midnight strikes then out of nowhere, the rain poured so hard that it got you both soaked in a matter of minutes.

Running hand in hand to look for a shade as the field becomes darker each second, good thing prince Hendery saw a thick tree that can provide shade in the meantime. With soaking clothes and wet skins you stand closely together behind the thick tree, waiting for the rain to stop. But the prince is thanking it silently for giving him this moment with you. A moment with you where he can admire you closely again, a moment with you privately where he can keep you close to him, and a moment with you where he can try and ask for a kiss again.

You’re not stupid. You can feel the warmth of his body like he’s sharing some of it to you, you can feel his fingertips dancing on your exposed back all the way to your nape, letting you feel the wetness of your skin which you very much love but you can’t admit it to yourself.

“You said you wanted an escape well I too,” he leaned forward to give your jaw a soft kiss that’s very much addicting, leaving you for wanting more. He pulled away to look at you for a few seconds, waiting for you to return the kiss and accept his offer. And without any hesitation, you kissed him on the lips and showed him what you want.

“An escape and nothing more-“ you said because giving the prince false hope is the last thing you want to happen.

“I understand, he says with a smile. Very much pleased to see you give in to him and his charms. He kissed you to show you how happy he is, reaching for your right leg and lift the skirt of your dress so he could feel the wetness of your skin further. You moaned and gasp sharply near his ear as you feel your leg locks automatically around his waist as he pushed you on the tree with a grunt and kiss you even more harshly.

Soon you feel his fingers creep in your inner thighs, closer than ever to your sex. “Hendery-“ you moaned when he finally swipes his finger on your sex, wetting his fingers in front of your eyes using his spit and putting it back to your sex and continue to make you feel good. He is holding you tightly as your grip on his shoulder tightens even more. Oh he knows what he’s doing. You smile at that thought while parting your lips, furrowing your brows, and moaning even more deliciously near the prince’s ear.

And while he continues what he’s doing to you, you felt something hard poking your other thigh while his lips were leaving marks on your chest, just right above your breast. Is that what you think it is? Well, if yes then his cock is big, and thinking about it makes you horny even more. “Are you happy?” he whispered, disturbing your lustful thoughts, nod your head yes, and returned your lips to his. Biting it and sucking his tongue, showing him that you are very much driven by lust too.

When he finally found the spot that instantly made your legs shake and your knees weak, he watched you let go right before his eyes and watch you bite your lips and make sinful sounds that he’s very much proud of. Satisfied with the pleasure that he provided, he removed his fingers from your hole and helped you fix your dress. You feel very tired and exhausted, that your legs are about to give up but Hendery will never let you fall. He kissed you more, asked for more and you gave him more until you’re both happy and satisfied with the long kisses that you shared. “Let me bring you home safely” he sweetly requested when he noticed that the rain was long gone and you’re in a middle of a dark field.

Walking hand in hand back to his carriage where his guards are waiting, you two remain unbothered with your wet clothes and stayed happy with the remaining time you have with each other on your way home. And when it’s finally time to part again, he thanked you for a wonderful day which made you incredibly shy as what happened earlier flashes in your mind.

As you settle in your bathroom, sitting on the tub filled with warm water, you can still hear Hendery’s sweet whispers and miss his touch terribly. Smiling through the idea of a gentleman such as Hendery touched you for the first time, and it was quite an experience. But still, you love him as a friend and that will never change because you will not let your mother win and use Hendery’s name to up the status of your family.

He offered you an escape, and that’s what you’re accepting. No more, no less.

February 23

Dearest Y/n,

I am lying to myself if I don’t admit that I miss your lips on mine. How I miss seeing your parted lips, touch the softness of your breast, and the wetness of your sex. I’ve been thinking about you every night since we parted ways after that eventful evening we shared.

But the purpose of this letter is to invite you to my uncle’s ball this evening and accompany me, be my guest and let’s enjoy the night.

Prince Hendery

Knowing that the prince misses you and your lips, is something that can surely make you smile while writing back to him and accept his invitation. Sealing the letter with the slightest of love but flowery words that will surely make him smile too.

This action can be accepted as playing with fire but no one reads your letters aside from the prince himself so you know that whatever you say to him will always be safe.

But right after you sent the letter, you regret writing those filthy words on paper and realized that you are sending it to your best friend.

February 23

Dear Hendery,

The invitation is accepted and I will be delighted to accompany you. But before I close this letter, I want you to know the truth about my impure thoughts.

I think of you at night whenever I touch myself. Imagine that your fingers are the ones inside me and not mine, I spread my legs so wide under the sheets, eyes closed while I try to remember how you please me.

When can we meet privately again? I hope it happens again soon.

Lady Y/n

As expected, while reading the letter that you wrote back privately, the prince’s cock got hard that he had to take care of it at once. So in his quiet room where the doors are locked, he sat on the edge of his bed and pull out his cock from his trousers. Stroking it slowly as he imagines you again, teasing himself so he wouldn’t release so soon.

Holding the letter in his left hand and reading the second phrase over and over again, trying so hard to picture you in his thoughts with your nightgown lifted all the way up until your sex is exposed and you touching yourself. Closing his eyes so tight while he strokes his cock faster than before as he pictures you gripping the sheets so hard and very much near to your orgasm.

Until finally he shoots his cum and lets it drip on his sheets, moaning and grunting deliciously as he enjoys the warm feeling while catching his breath. Wondering how can he control his lustful feelings towards you and turn it to love.  

When the most awaited time has arrived and Hendery’s carriage is waiting outside your house, you didn’t quite expect to feel nervous as this never happened to you before. He was quiet and smiling handsomely when you sat in front of him, waiting for his carriage to move before he does as well.

“You look beautiful as always,” he sat beside you and completely startled you with his actions. A kiss on your gloved hand, and a kiss on your lips.

During the ball, Hendery was busy gracing the place with his presence on behalf of his mother so the two of you did not have much time to talk and dance, although he promised to dance with you once for tonight and that is perfectly fine for you understand his duties.

So while you’re drinking a glass of white wine on the corner, you can’t help but think and foresee the future that you can have with Hendery if you let your mother succeed.

A comfortable life, the wife of the future king, a loving husband, of course, he will give you children, but he will always be away to take care of the country’s current affairs because he is the crowned prince. And you well know that you don’t want a life like that. You want a life where a husband goes home to you every night and makes love to you until you're exhausted and tired.

“I’m sorry” Hendery whispered from behind which startled you. “Are you ready to dance?” you gave him your hand and guide you towards the middle. Careful to put his hand on your waist, trying so hard not to pull you towards him and plant many kisses on your neck.

“I read your letter” he started and completely clueless about your regret about it. You gave him a shy smile and looked away.

“So?” he started again, hoping to hear a response from you this time.

“So what my prince?”  

“Do you still want my fingers inside you?” He teases, whispering beside your ear and smiling as if he’s not making you shy in the middle of the dance floor.

“I beg you-“

“Oh, she begs” He interrupted you and teased you further. But that’s not all, you feel his hand roam on your lower back, bravely did it still despite being guarded with many judging and watchful eyes. Slowly your patience with your friend is wearing thin and so you stared at him long and hard and thankfully he understood what your eyes were saying and stopped teasing you.

“Thank you for shutting up and remembering that you’re a prince,” you clear your throat and continue what you were saying earlier, “your fingers do felt rather nice inside me and... I wish what happened the other night would happen again. But Hendery I beg you, do not tease me like this because someone might hear you. At least talk softly,”

The prince let out a small laugh, so small that only you can hear it while he continues to dance with you and fool everyone for pretending that you’re having an innocent conversation.

“After what happened I can’t seem to forget how you purred beside my ear that night” he stared at you, holding your lower back to assist you more on the dance. “Your tight grips on my shoulders still ghosts my skin, how you say my name as if I am not a prince. But it came out from your mouth in a very sinful way because I am pleasuring you”

“I made those sounds, those sounds that you oh so loved because you knew what you’re doing in between my legs... Hendery” you said it as quietly as possible and smiled so innocently at your prince, feeling every turn and every step became closer than required. Bodies becoming warm in less than a minute that you even felt his skin became instantly hot.

“If you loved how I sound that night, well, I love how you pushed me behind that tree your grace... because I felt your manhood poke my thigh. And my my,” you shook your head from left to right and giggle beside his ear, then decided to stop teasing him and making him hornier than ever when you heard him clear his throat and see the blush on his face.

“The next time we are to be alone again, I want your lips to never leave mine, your body never be covered by layers and layers of silk, and always keep your body close to mine because next time, my fingers won’t be the only one going inside you”

The promise of a very sinful and lustful next time instantly made you feel hot and you feel like your dress is about to pop and your corset will give up in no time. But even though it sounded like it was all about lust, the promise of seeing each other alone again because he loves your presence made your heart swell with happiness and smile from ear to ear as he sways you slowly under a fading string quartet music from the background.

“I never want the song to end, I beg you, not as your prince but as Hendery, keep close to me. Please”

You didn’t want to ruin the moment and feel every note of that beautiful song come to an end. This time you’re no longer fooling anyone, you are simply showing that you adore each other in the middle of the dance floor with a sea of young people.

“Tell me, what else do you love your grace?” You asked him just before you part from the dance and bow.

“You. I love you”

Usually, when someone confesses their love to someone, positive reactions are expected from both persons. And when Hendery said it out of nowhere he wanted to take it back in an instant because it is not sincere and it is not true. Yet.

“Take it back, you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t love me” it was so hard to breathe at the moment. But you say it over and over again, very close to being mad but you can't make a scene “Please Hendery, take it back it’s not true and what you’re feeling is lust not love” you said sternly completely offending the prince with the truth.

“Alright, alright I take it back. I’m sorry, I’ll get you a glass of water. Come”

And so, the lovely night has ended earlier than expected. Hendery brought you home safely without a promise of seeing each other soon again.

Everything changed and it’s all because of lust.

March 2

To my dearest prince Hendery,

It’s been many days since the last time that we saw each other. Are you mad at me?  

Word is spreading that you’re leaving the country for several weeks to attend an important meeting representing your mother. Is it true? Were you planning to tell me?

Please write back and meet me soon. I miss you.

Lady Y/n

After reading your letter and keeping it safe in his drawer, prince Hendery admitted to himself first that he misses you too, and that no he’s not mad at you. He’s just humiliated and he’s not yet ready to show his face.

It’s his mistake in the first place. He promised to offer you an escape, no more no less. “Unbelievable Hendery,” he murmurs to himself.

After a few days of self-pity and gathering his courage to face you again, he finally gave in to your request and meet you. He apologized while you two walk around town with his guards on the side, ate lunch at his favorite restaurant, and chat until your hearts are happy. Everything felt normal again, you can hear people starting to gossip about you and Hendery so you figured all is well between you and him.

“Tomorrow is my last night here, please accompany me. My mother insisted to host a ball, I told her no need but she still made preparations” he scoffed and finished the tea he’s drinking.

You didn’t want to ruin the mood and ruin the peace between you two but you have to tell him the truth, “Xiaojun- uh, asked me to accompany him and I accepted his offer,”

“Well, you could have said no. Didn’t you thought of me?” his voice was suddenly higher and stern. He wanted to shout at you but you don’t deserve that, you’re very much important to him so he won’t do that.

“I’m sorry my prince” you murmured and lowered your head.

“Don’t lower yourself for me. I think so highly of you, please” he reached for your hand kissed your knuckles, “It’s alright. My cousin is good company” he says, comforting you further.

When you and Hendery parted ways and while the prince is on his way home, he finally admitted to himself that he is jealous. Jealous because he knew you and his cousin Xiaojun used to like each other, and now he’s clueless if you still like each other.

He can’t eat properly and kept thinking if he should steal you from his cousin. He can’t sleep despite being so tired physically and kept thinking about how he’s not spending his last night here with you.

And when his last night in town comes, during the ball, Hendery is forcing himself to smile and greet his guests. Trying so hard not to look at you and his cousin Xiaojun for he doesn’t know if he can control himself from being jealous.

“Unaccompanied, huh?” Ten teases Hendery and looked around the place for you. Only to find out that you came with his cousin, “Ah... I see” Ten smirks and continues drinking his wine.

“I’m jealous so go ruin someone else's night-“

“No my friend, I’m here to rescue you,” he whispers and called someone from afar. “Prince Hendery I want you to meet my cousin Lady Lisa,” the beautiful lady bowed to the prince to give respect, complimented the prince, and soon earned his attention and invited her to dance.

Of course, a royal attraction such as Hendery with a different woman in the dance floor can awaken the gossipers in an instant. But it's not the gossipers that irritate you the most. It’s her giggles, Hendery’s hold on her waist, his beautiful smile when he talks to her-

“Are you alright dearest?” Xiaojun whispers, completely bringing you back to reality. You breathed in deeply and exhaled sharply before drinking your wine in one go.

“Excuse me for a moment, I need air and privacy” you request from the gentleman in front of you. Nodding with a lot of questions in his mind, Xiaojun did not even dare to stop you.

And away you go to the palace gardens to breathe and let out your jealousy. Breathing deeply over and over again, wishing to be separated from the corset that’s suffocating you. Until you finally calmed down and had the need to admire the stars in the sky and listen to the distant chatters from the ball.

“Did my cousin offended you? Violated you perhaps? Are you hurt?”

Hendery came out looking for you immediately when he did not see you by his cousin’s side. He knew that this is the only place you will go to breathe because this is where he first met you.

“No no, I’m fine. Your cousin is a gentleman like you, I just needed some fresh air. Go back to your guests” you shoo him away and suddenly you feel suffocated again.

“I care only about one guest. And she’s standing in front of me right now” Hendery says boldly, walking towards you and pulled you close by the waist and kissed you. Motioning you deeper into the gardens to hide while you share a heated kiss that’s saying, ‘we belong to each other’.

Soon the heated kiss becomes rougher while the prince’s hands roam freely around your body, undoing your dress, trying to free you from this tight corset, and said, “Make love to me tonight”

There was no sign of authority in what he said, you’re sure that it’s not a command from your prince, his voice was serious but full of love and passion. And that’s why you agreed, nod your head and kiss him again, and felt his charming smile in between the kiss.

Not even a single soul from the guests knew that he sneaked you to his bedroom again, dismissed the guards before shutting the door close and locking it.

The room was dark and cold and only the moonlight and the lights from the outside illuminates his room. But when his lips touched your skin again, suddenly it became hot and you feel weak while Hendery is the opposite because you noticed he’s full of energy and burning passion.

“Lie in bed,” he says sweetly but his actions say otherwise for he pushed you, hovers you, and continue removing your clothes. X by X he loosens your corset until you’re finally free and you’re all exposed in front of him. “Better?” He asks and you nod shyly.

When he proceeds to remove his clothes next, it is as if your shyness faded when you saw Hendery’s body in the dark but everything seems clear to you even with minimal light. “Can I spread your legs?” he asks, caressing your knee while he lies beside you and waiting for your consent.

Slowly and gently, he parted your legs and hovers you again, hands exploring around your body without barriers of cloth, kneading your breast while kissing your neck as you listen to him breathe and moan. And when his hands continue to explore your inner thighs, a sharp gasp escaped from your mouth and you spread your legs wider. This time, it’s your turn to feel his naked body and explore it with your hands. Feeling every muscle tighten whenever he makes you moan accidentally.

Then he stopped. Came closer to you until you’re bodies to bodies and his forehead rests on your temple.

You know exactly what’s going to happen next. You knew that it will hurt, and it did but you asked for more, begged rather. You see his handsome face contort when he finally pushed inside you, loving your tight walls, moaning like a mad man. He lifts both of your hand at the top of your head and witness him look at you with eyes full of lust that watches your breasts bounce up and down for every thrust he gives you.

For someone who’s inexperienced like your prince, he surely knew what he was doing. Folding your legs and pushing them closer to your chest so he could thrust deeper. Even he surprises himself.

With quick thrusts, filthy words here and there, and deeper kisses you finally reached your euphoria and moaned his name again. Something he oh so loved hearing and that made him lose his mind and let go. Pulled out immediately and shoots his cum on the sheet, while grunting and moaning so loud that you didn’t even know he’s capable of making such sounds.

When he’s finally calm and has enough energy to move, he gathered the ruined sheets, threw them on the floor, and covered you with the thicker ones. “What happened was special, don’t you think?” He asks and joined you under the thick sheets and kept you close to his still exposed body.

“Special indeed,” you said and reached for his lips to plant a soft kiss.

Now you know that you do have feelings for him.

“I want you to take this, as a promise that I will soon be home” you watch him remove his silver necklace and transfer it around your neck, leaving sweet kisses on your shoulders before pulls away. He promised to come home soon so he can replace the necklace with something even more expensive when he gets back. “Oh I wish to see you more like this wearing nothing but my necklace”

“Then don’t go. Stay here, the world will not go into war if you chose to stay” He smiles so sweetly at you, happy that you’re on the same page.

“Just for a couple of weeks, my love” he says and kissed your hand many times.

“So we're in love, huh?” You tease him.

He scoffed and looked deeply into your eyes, “I think we started being in love on the night first met. We were too young to think about love but I know we loved each other for years now”

And just like that, after years and years of going against your mother, you’re finally defeated because what Hendery said is true.

On the next morning, you and your prince spend the whole morning making love quietly and making sure that your time left with each other is not wasted. Exploring each other’s bodies further and diving headfirst to lust.

“Please “ you giggle quietly, covering your mouth as you moan with every flick of his tongue on your clit. You both came several times now and you feel so weak already in the middle of the morning. “You need to prepare,” you reminded him before he starts again and asks for one last. Finally, you feel him spread kisses on your body all the way up until his head appears from the thick sheets.

When the time of parting has finally come, he put you on a carriage first before he leaves. “You’re going to be a great king” and he wishes for you to be beside him always and forever. “Safe travels, my love. Write to me every day” you whisper to him and kiss him before you go inside the carriage.

“Expect love letters from now on. I’ll be home soon, think of me always” he says and kissed you goodbye.

The promise of receiving love letters from Hendery every day was kept. You read them in the morning when you wake up and at night before you sleep. Smiling like a fool and giggling alone as you remember his sweet words and miss him even more.

This has been yet your happiest time with Hendery. Although you’re not together physically, but through the continuous exchanges of love letters, your hearts felt closer than before. And you find it amazing because being oceans apart from each other should be hard and heartbreaking but no, your words and his words give comfort to your hearts.

March 10

To my love who’s oceans apart from me,

My heart longs for you and I miss your presence.

The country is treating me well with their good hospitality and pays high respect to my mother the queen. It feels like I’m on vacation rather than an important royal matter.

It’s morning here and I’m sitting by the beautiful garden with beautiful flowers as I write this letter and think of you. Now that it’s clear that we are deeply in love, I realized that I am in love with my best friend and the mere thought of it makes me blush and makes me smile naturally.

I think of you every second my love, imagining you reading a book in front of me or sleeping right beside me in my huge bed. I want to wake up and see your smile first thing in the morning or feel your warmth for as long as I want. But let us not worry for time will pass by so fast and we will be together again.

When I get back, we should have more picnics, share longer kisses, make love every night. Let us never let go of each other.

I love you.

Hendery

March 15

To my loving prince,

My heart aches for you too but your words give great comfort to my heart. This distance between us is nothing compared to our patience.

I am more than glad that the country is treating you well. Tell me everything you do there, I miss your stories. You’re going to be a great king and I wish you won’t forget to take care of yourself there. Eat plenty and rest when needed. My heart won’t take it if you get sick or become tired.

As promised, I always think of you too. My head is so full of you that you visit me in my dreams more often than usual. And I too my prince, want to see your charming smile in the morning and even at night.

Stretch your patience more my love. When you get back, I will never leave your side. But for now, I am happily and patiently waiting for your return.  

I love you.

From the woman you love who’s oceans apart from you.

And for days and days of being apart, you and Hendery exchanged love letters and make each other smile through the paper. You tell him stories and gossips from home and he tells you stories and gossips from the country he’s staying.

“My prince, I brought bad news” The voice of his royal guard disturbed his peace while reading one of your letters. “How dare you ruin my peace, what now?” he says, still smiling from the letter he’s reading.

“Your stay here is extended, my prince” the royal guard informed him and did not dare to look his prince in the eye for he knew it will make him angry. “Your presence is requested at a royal gathering that your mother can’t attend to” he added.

And right then and there, Hendery thought about you and wanted to tell you the news immediately. He wrote as fast as he could and told his guard to send the letter immediately for Hendery was scared and disappointed with himself to give you false hope.

April 30

My dearest prince whom I love,

I waited for your arrival but you did not come. For days I was worried and could not eat or sleep well and all I did was think of you. Pray that you’re safe and wait patiently for you.

But now that I have received your letter I can finally stop worrying and stop imagining unpleasant scenarios. How are you?

I miss you terribly.

Y/n

May 20

My love,

Thank you for understanding further.

My purpose and responsibility here are becoming more tiring each day that passes but the promise of seeing you once I’m done here is the only thought that gives me energy.

Unpleasant scenarios? Imagine only me showering you with love, imagine us strolling across town and shock the gossipers and silence them once and for all when we finally announce our relationship.

Think only happy thoughts, my love, I will be with you soon.

I love you.

Hendery.

And that is the last letter you received from him for the month of May.

Hendery was told that someone is plotting to assassinate him and for his own safety, he has to leave the country secretly and go to a country where no one knew he is there. Even you.

For your own safety, Prince Hendery stopped writing you letters for the assassins can and might track you because of him. He will not forgive himself if you are to be tracked and hurt by an assassin because of a love letter.

Little did you know that he did not send his last letter on the 20th of May, and a very heartfelt love letter is on its way to you.

“A normal mail? For me? Not from the royal mail?” the mailman nods and hands you the letter.

“Put it on the basket together with the normal mails dear,” your mother said. Oh this house completely has no care about any other letter unless it’s sealed by the royals.

As weeks and months pass by quickly, you continue to wait for a letter from Hendery, and continue to wait for his arrival. But sadness had you by the neck that whenever you think about Hendery your heart will suddenly hurt and tears will automatically fall from your eyes.

Waiting is a long suffering and you understand that well before you decided to love Hendery. You knew what you signed up for… but you did not expect that it will hurt like hell while waiting for someone. It’s like waiting for a ghost to come back, you feel hopeless.

But even though you’re hurting so much, you grew more desperate to hear anything from him that you asked for his cousin Xiaojun’s help. Still, your efforts are wasted. And you’re reminded why you didn’t want to pursue your love with Hendery in the first place. “The pain that I’m feeling right now will double once he is crowned king, I’m sure of it. Is it wrong for me to ask for the man that I love? Why am I being punished?” you cry your heart out in Xiaojun’s arms, keeping you safe while he listens to what pains you and try so hard to provide comfort.

But just as you thought that you couldn't be any sadder, you are wrong. Now that everyone is expecting you to marry soon to save your family and fix the financial problem, sadder days continue to happen in your life.

“Stop your nonsense now young lady, you will marry prince Xiaojun and live with him in a new country. Stop humiliating your family and stop waiting for the crowned prince to come back. He may be all wedded and bedded by this time while you, you’re becoming even more miserable”

And that is the reason why you agreed to marry prince Xiaojun.

YEARS LATER

One night at the queen’s ball, you found yourself alone and looking at the stars again on the exact place you and Hendery first met. Breathing in, breathing out, and closing your eyes as you clear your mind and think about Hendery.

“What are you thinking about?”

You hear someone ask you from behind, you’re not sure who he is because your eyes are still closed but it can only be Xiaojun because he’s the one who knew where to find you.

But perhaps no. There’s another man who always knew where to find you even without telling him.

“Open your eyes my love, I’m home”

You turned around in an instant, looked at his face, and suddenly tears started to fall from your eyes, you can’t move and all you can do is cry. You have so many questions to him, so many sincere words left unsaid, but all you said right now is, “are you real? Or my mind is betraying me once again?”

“I am very much real,” Hendery says and gave you a tight hug, lifting you off the ground and kissing you as many as he pleases to make up for last time.

“I don’t understand, why did you leave me like that?”

“Didn’t you receive my letter?” he asks, wondering why are you so clueless when he is completely sure he told you everything. “Maybe it never reached you, I’m sorry. But now I’m back, come now let’s announce our love to my mother and ask for her blessing so we could marry soon” he was very excited but you are not.

How can you be excited? You’re already married.

Is it possible for a person to leave you and come back many years later then suddenly asked he wants to marry you as if you did not suffer greatly from waiting and being sad for months?

You remove your hand from his tight grasp and saw the ring. Now, everything is clear to him but he is very angry.

“Please don’t be mad-“ you begged.

“How could you- If only that letter reached to you, then you will know why I’m very mad right now!” He shouted at you, face turning red, eyes with tears on the side. “We were separated for years, give me a chance. Please come back to me. You told me you love me”

“And you told me you will come home! But they were only words, Hendery. And I do love you, still love you but I have a duty for my family and you have a duty for your country” He refuses to listen but you knew he needed to know the truth from you, “Please understand that you were gone for years, and I was arranged to be married to Xiaojun. I said no to Xiaojun for as long as I could, hurting him over and over again because I was waiting for you like a fool. Love someone with a strong heart, whose love is unconditional. Not like me. I can't turn my back on Xiaojun just because you're back”

"But you turned your back on me, just because I was away"

"I waited!" you shouted frustratingly back at him.

“Are you happy with him? Do you love him?”

Slowly you walked towards him to dry his tears with your hand and he’s quick to catch it kiss it before he finally lets you go.

“I am happy and no, I don’t love him but he loves me”

He nods his head slowly. Heartbroken and afraid to let go but what can he do now?

“Before I let you go, I want to let you know that... I asked you to marry me too. The man you love still asked you to marry him” he hugged you once again so you won’t see him cry because he doesn’t want you to remember him like this. “Why must our love should end tragically? I am not close to being happy but it’s good to know that you are”

He dries his tears and tried to stop crying for a moment so he can say his goodbye properly. “Go back to my cousin he must be waiting for you now. I will stay here, I will be fine. Go, it’s getting cold”

When you gave him what he asked you to do, he turned around and did not watch you leave for he doesn’t want to see you walking away from him.

Love is sacrifice and he understands that all too well now.

May 27

Dear Y/n,

This letter will reach to weeks or maybe months after I send it through a normal mail. I am being hunted down in this country that I’m staying and I have to hide and leave secretly with my guards for my own protection.

The assassins can track me through the royal mail and can use you as bait to find me. I will never forgive myself if that is to happen. I know you understand my situation right now because that’s how much you love me, let’s extend our patience together and meet when it’s safe. I am sorry my love but this is the only way.

But enough about the bad news. Last night I had the most beautiful dream because you’re in it and we are living peacefully in a country away from my responsibilities. The dream was short but it made me imagine a life with you and gave me the courage to ask your hand in marriage.

Will you marry me, when I get home?

I promise to be a good and loving husband while being a king and fulfilling my duties. I promise to never be away when you need me for I know that family is very important to you.

In the morning when you wake up and until you close your eyes to rest at night, I am going to be your husband and not your king.

I love you. Wait for me to get home safe and you will be loved by the man you love.

Hendery

bodyguard // s. todoroki

A/N: my take on the rockstar/band/performer au for bnharem! i’m not a big fan of au’s normally but this one was a lot of fun to write! todoroki is definitely ooc in this one but i took a lot of liberties with his character in order to better fit the au storyline.

CHARACTER PAIRING: Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,091

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, gore, fighting, death, oral sex (f!receiving)

SYNOPSIS: you were in it for the money, he was an unhinged popstar. how could you two ever possibly get along?

want to read more rocking stories? click HERE !

the days at work were tiring, the nights even longer, but the pay was good and it was always satisfying to make a grown man cry as you knocked him to his knees and manhandled him away from your client.

Todoroki Shouto, one of the elite, the famed, the rich, and absolutely fucking annoying. sure, he was hot (anyone with an eye could see that) but he was just like everyone else in his industry: a cocky bastard. you didn’t mind his lifestyle too much except when it interfered with his job, like having to pry off whiny people who clung to him like their life depended on it, and for some, it probably did.

his biggest claim to fame was being in a now wildly famous band, namely the main singer. he was charming with a sultry voice and a personality that oozed confidence but he wasn’t always that way. in fact, he was originally a shy, anxiety ridden teen when he first joined, not sure how to use his voice or deal with people coming up to him in the streets. the life he lived was sheltered before that, training under his dad to take over the family business, but when sweet, innocent Todoroki confessed that he much rather be artsy and sing at the age of sixteen, things quickly changed for him. his father, Todoroki Enji, tried to convince him otherwise, told him that he didn’t know how the real world worked and that he would never be successful, but Shouto wouldn’t budge and eventually Enji caved in, or so it seemed.

Enji immediately enrolled Shouto in lessons, instructing him to shape up or ship out. if he couldn’t become successful in the industry, he would take over his father’s business instead, but that didn’t happen. Shouto excelled in lessons, blowing his instructors away with his timbre and control. he was a natural, and frankly, good enough to be a star. they weren’t so concerned with his stoic yet endearing personality. they had broken enough pop stars, molded them to be perfect model citizens, so what was one more?

the plan backfired immensely. as Shouto’s talent grew, Enji seeked out the biggest in the game, convincing them to give his son a chance at stardom. while reluctant, the board agreed, not wanting to piss off one of the most powerful men in Japan but were thoroughly surprised at the fact that his kid didn’t suck at all. in fact, he was actually good, really, really good.

they signed him immediately, whisking him away into the life of fame and fortune at the young age of seventeen. his range, the slight rasp to his tone and the ability to reach into somebody's soul and pluck the very feelings they try to hide so deeply from it’s depths pushed him towards the life of a rockstar. the freedom he had never been able to experience living at home pushed him over the edge and spiraled him out of control.

Todoroki drank, smoked, and fucked his way through cities big and small, getting himself into a lot of trouble along the way. the behavior went on for years, only getting worse as time went on. nobody seemed to be able to get control over the boy with the pretty hair and wild scar. after almost killing several women and one of his bandmates in a drunk driving accident, his team, label, and most importantly his father had enough.

the conversation between the two did not go well. Shouto was now an adult, legally free and clear from his father’s power. he had his own money, enough to live comfortably for awhile, even if he dropped the band, and all of the repressed rage, longing and anger that was pent up from his childhood. he was not stopping his lifestyle for anyone. that was, until you came along.

you were always a scrapper, getting yourself in trouble more times than you could count. it was just in your nature to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves and you spent many days on the playground beating up the bullies who picked on the sweet girl braiding flowers into her hair, or the boy who liked to play with baby dolls instead of trucks.

as you got older, your fights got fewer and farther in between, at least when it came to the public.

when you turned sixteen and kicked some kid who was trying to look up your skirt so hard in the chin that he saw stars, you were approached by a few men who slid you a card and told you if you wanted to make money fighting, come meet them.

you were a dumb kid and instead of running in the opposite direction and telling the police, you showed up at the seemingly dingy door behind the alley of a fairly run down ramen restaurant. knocking on the door and rocking back on your heels, you waited to see what would happen. it took a few seconds before a panel slid open, allowing you to see nothing but someone’s eyes peering at you in the mid-afternoon sun. hesitantly, you raised the business card in your hand, showing it to the person and jumping in surprise as the panel slammed shut and the door creaked open, inviting you in.

you nodded your head politely at who you realized was a rather bulky, burly man, before a woman dressed in a silky black dress plucked the card delicately from your hand and led you through the hallway. when she opened the door, you were taken aback by the scene.

people of all shapes and sizes stood cheering as two rather muscular men fought in an arena across the room. spit and blood flew across the floor as the two pummeled each other over and over again before one tapped out, the other man raising his fist in the air in victory. you stood, gaze fixed on the scene in front of you, blood racing at the thought of you being in the ring.

“addicting, isn’t it?” the woman whispered in your ear, a knowing smile on her face before she gently took you by the sleeve and guided you away from the screams and shouts into a private room that was much quieter.

you sat down in front of a man who was rather tall and thin, graying hair across his head and a clean shaven face.

“so, i heard you’re a good fighter. how good do you think you are?”

“uh-” you stuttered, not sure how to respond, “i think i can kick someone’s ass if i have a reason to.”

“is money a good enough reason for you?”

“money is a nice reward, yeah, yeah it is,” you confirmed, not pondering the question over for a second.

“good, you start on Saturday. come in comfy clothes that you won’t mind getting sweaty and dirty in. you’re my new ace, a secret weapon. give it six months time and you’ll be defeating guys like that out there in seconds.”

and defeat you did. over and over again, men, women, anyone who thought they were better than you were defeated by your own fists. you worked hard and then some, through literal sweat, blood and tears, to reach the status of champion of the underworld by the age of eighteen.

you were a wild card, unpredictable in your stature. you didn’t have hulking muscles and a sturdy frame, but what you did have was speed, the element of surprise, and the ability to calculate in a split second, all of which allowed you to defeat your enemies time and time again. this relative victory didn’t come without your share of sacrifices: hiding the bruises, blackened eyes and bloody lips from your family as you trained relentlessly, having to figure out a way to manage the steady flow of income that started coming your way as you fought in your first official matches, defeat after defeat as you trained, chipping a tooth and having it promptly filled in like nothing happened, having to learn how to disarm and fire a gun, work with knives and most importantly, losing a bit of your empathy along the way.

it came as no surprise when people who were much more powerful and much, much richer started taking an interest in you, placing large bets upon your head at some of the higher staked matches, a feat you worked your way up to after many years. you never failed to disappoint, knowing that these fights were the ones that mattered the most, the ones that brought you, and your boss, the biggest pools of money.

it was at one of these fights on a dreary, rainy night that you met Todoroki Enji, a hulking man that failed to intimidate you. you were used to people his size and bigger thinking he could take advantage of someone like you and it only made you chuckle thinking of how easy it would be to have him on his knees in seconds.

“i’ve made a proposal to your boss that he couldn’t refuse. he said he couldn’t and wouldn’t force you to do anything, but since you’re quite motivated by money, i think you’ll be intrigued by my offer,” he started, sitting down next to you in one of the VIP booths, sliding his business card on the table with a sly smile.

you were interested and entertained him, listening to him ramble about his shitty kid and his bad behavior. amused, you sipped on your drink as you absorbed his rants and whines about the negative reputation his kid was creating for himself, how he abused his freedom and power to the fullest extent and how his life was spiraling out of control.

“what does this have to do with me, exactly?” you finally questioned, setting your drink down and turning to face him, eyes met squarely with his own.

“i’d like to hire you to be his personal bodyguard.”

“sounds like he needs a babysitter, not a bodyguard,” you retorted, getting ready to stand up and move away from this blathering idiot.

when he spit out a number so outrageous, however, you sat back down, now thoroughly intrigued by the situation at hand. satisfied that he had your full attention, he went into details, laying down a fairly thin stack of papers in front of you as you listened to every detail.

“so let me get this straight. i’m to be his personal bodyguard, keep his shitty behavior a little more under control, whip him up into shape sort of situation. that’s it? and i’ll get paid that much for being a glorified babysitter?”

“you will have to protect him, of course. there are some crazy fans out there that climb windows, seduce themselves into his bed, stalk him, chase him down, but i don’t think it’s anything that, with your expertise, you can’t handle.”

you continued to ponder the situation before gesturing him to continue with his story. he rambled for another moment or two before picking up the papers and going over them with you: standard non-disclosure agreements, a detailed list of your job description and a contract agreement that he was subleasing you through your boss.

after a few minutes of reading the contracts over and discussing them with your boss, you agreed to the scenario, locking yourself into what would be a rather entertaining six months.

the first time you met Todoroki, he instantly tried to hit on you, but when his hand lowered down to grab your ass, you had him on his knees with his left hand behind his back before he could even blink. after that encounter, your conversations were curt. he knew what you were here for and he wasn’t about to let you get his way.

what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be so relaxed about the whole situation. he still drank, still partied, fucked almost whatever girl or guy he wanted, but anytime things got too out of hand, you stepped in, firm but gentle, guiding the crying groupies out of his bedroom after their time was over, driving him every time he got too drunk, cutting him off from any supplies when he was getting out of hand and most importantly, keeping him safe during his travels.

he never realized how much danger he was always in until you mitigated the problems with ease. he just assumed that being assaulted on the daily was something that came with being in the public until you broke some robbers finger when they tried to swipe the wallet out of his own back pocket. after that, he almost clung to you like a koala on a tree anytime he was out in public. you provided stability in a time where he was drowning in his own worries.

that didn’t mean he was ever nice to you though. in reality, he was actually sometimes meaner to you, the simple fact that some girl could be stronger than him set him off, always feeling on edge around you. you weren’t necessarily quiet, offering up any and all small bits and pieces about yourself that he ever wanted to know, but he never really knew you: not your last name, where you were from, if you had any siblings, parents, where you went to school, what your job was, who you were on the inside. it bugged him like crazy to know what your favorite color was and that you liked cheese on your ramen but not anything important, anything he wanted to know.

you liked to keep it that way, however, and would stay as friendly yet aloof as possible. this was a job to you, a job that would set you up easy for awhile and gave you a break from fighting for the most part. you wouldn’t admit to yourself that you liked the man more than you would’ve expected. you felt the way he clung to you as fans swarmed him, the way he always looked to you in reassurance as you walked the streets at night, hearing his sobs in the shower, sobs that were so broken and confused. it showed to you a side of him that was vulnerable, that showed emotion.

he broke down towards the end of your stay, realizing a little too late how much easier it was for you to do your job when he was cooperative and nice. in fact, he began to be more open about enjoying your company and spending time with you. it made it harder for you to continue with your job knowing you were falling for the pretty rich boy, for the man you were hired to protect, for the man who looked at you like you could do no wrong but vehemently would deny it. you began enjoying the little moments with him, the stolen glances, the laughing. you didn’t know what changed in him but you were glad he was someone you could get along with. underneath that crazy exterior, he was just a guy who wanted a friend.

your six months came up relatively quickly. it sucked that your cushy job living in five star hotels, eating decadent meals and working out in state of the art facilities would be over soon but you felt yourself getting lazy, weak and losing your rather sharp edge. it was time to get back into the grind and despite your heart panging at the fact that you would leave the pretty boy with the angry and sad heart behind, you were ready to go.

your last night of work consisted of the final show in Tokyo. tens of thousands of guests were set to attend what would be the bands biggest concert ever. you were calm, cool and collected as always, but the singer, not so much.

he spent the day pacing back and forth, warming up his vocals, hydrating himself, stretching and generally doing his best to calm his nerves.

in a rare act of affection, you reached out to grab your hand with his own, looking him dead in the eye and telling him that this night would be one he would remember forever; and you were right, just not for the way either of you thought.

the show went amazing, the crowd loud and receptive, the choreography flawless, the singing perfect. Todoroki ran off stage with the biggest smile he had ever seen and in his own rare display of affection, twirled you around with ease, adrenaline still pumping through his system.

you congratulated him on the great show and waited patiently for him to remove all the makeup and his costume. he emerged a little while later, hair flat against his head, wet from the shower, sweatpants and an inconspicuous gray hoodie donning his body. you bid a pleasant farewell to his bandmates before escorting him back to the car. he had requested that you drive him back to the hotel and spend one final night in the comfortable hotel beds before you headed back to your hometown.

when you arrived, however, things felt quiet, a little too quiet, and the hair stood up on the back of your neck.

“Shouto, you need to get into the driver’s seat right now, turn on the car and lock it. do not let me in until i tell you to. do not get out of the car, okay?”

he began to question you but before he had a chance to argue, you were pushing him out of the way as a knife sliced towards him, figures cloaked in black emerging from the shadows.

one, two, three, four.

you counted out the four assailants as you shoved Shouto against the car, prompting him to unlock and scramble in through the back seat. only when you heard the click of the lock did you breathe a sigh of relief and begin your attack.

the first man with the knife was tall and lanky, using his height to his advantage, trying to overwhelm you, but with a quick kick to the back of his kneecaps, he went tumbling onto his knees. now shorter than you, you were able to control him by grabbing onto the top of his head and slamming it into the ground, effectively knocking him out.

one, two, three.

the next man thought his muscles would save the day, but his size lacked any true speed, and you were able to land fingers to his eyes, a punch square to his nose. a quick chokehold and he was knocked out against the concrete as well.

one, two.

they both came at once, knives flailing in the air as they sliced your way. one managed to gouge out a chunk of flesh in your arm but you paid no mind, too focused on the task at hand as you grabbed the knife with your hand and used the other arm to knock into their elbow, making them loosen their grip enough to let go of the blade that you then embedded into their shoulder. the other assailant took your distraction to swing the knife your way and as you were trying to dodge the serrated edge, used their other fist to swing up into your chin. you felt your teeth chatter against each other, blood mixing with saliva as you bit your tongue. spitting, you slammed your hand down against their wrist, grabbing the knife with your hand and yanking, not caring that it sliced into your palm as you flipped the weapon around to shove it into their abdomen.

with both men distracted, you slammed your fist against the car door, telling Shouto to quickly unlock it so you could get in. when you heard the telltale click, you instantly dove into the backseat, yelling at him to lock it and drive as fast as he could back to the hotel. he did as he was told with an eerie calmness to him, backing out and around the attackers that were attempting to survey the damage that had been dealt to them.

once you had made the relatively quick trip back to the hotel, you hurriedly jumped out of the car, telling Shouto to carry his own bags so you could be on alert if anything were to happen, scanning each and every corner for a possible other attack. thankfully, everything was safe as you made your way into his hotel room.

you dropped him off quietly, not even attempting to walk into his room, but only fifteen minutes had passed before he was knocking on your door, a first aid kit he had gotten from the front desk securely tucked under his arm.

you let him in without a word, locking the door behind you and turning to face him. before you had a chance to ask what he was doing there, he had dragged you into your rather grandiose bathroom, sitting you on the steps leading up to the jacuzzi tub and pulling out the contents of the kit onto the floor.

he began by assessing the damage to your wounds, cleaning and disinfecting them before wrapping both your hand and arm rather efficiently.

“i had to wrap a lot of my own wounds as well as my siblings. dear old dad let the temper get the best of him sometimes and it wasn’t always so pretty,” he explained, teeth clenching together in an attempt to remain calm.

“thanks for this. i’m sure they’ll heal just fine,” you replied, not wanting to put him in a situation where he had to talk about his troubling past.

“you could’ve died protecting me today, you know?”

“that’s my job Todoroki. i was hired to protect you, i protected you, and i’m fine, thank you very much. this is not my first fight and it definitely won’t be my last.”

he sighed, rubbing his temples as he sat down on the marble floor in front of you, holding your wounded hand in his own, tracing the fabric that surrounded your palm.

“i recognized one of the cars in the parking lot. it was a company car, one of my dad’s cars to be precise. i know they can seem relatively inconspicuous but i memorized every car my dad ever had, big or small. it was definitely his car.”

you mulled over his words for a moment before sighing yourself, slumping against the stairs as your head rested against the rim of the tub.

“your dad sent those men, huh? that’s why you were so eerily calm driving away. you knew you weren’t really in any danger, that those men were secretly there to kill me,” you finally concluded, anger boiling deep within the pit of your stomach.

“yeah, i think they were. i don’t think dad is too fond of the fact that you and i got close. i-i like you a lot more than i let on, i’ve told him so. i thought that would make him happy, knowing i have someone in my life that i could rely on and trust, but he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control you after these six months were up, think he wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“wouldn’t be the first time i’ve had a hit out on my head. this one, however, is probably going to be a lot tricker to deal with.”

Shouto sunk deeper into himself, body shaking with rage as he saw the fight flash in his head over and over again.

“i’m going to protect you. if you want to, that is. i’ll sign you on as my own bodyguard, however much money you want. i’ll be by your side always, make sure that nobody tries to kill you, tries to hurt you like that again.”

“i can fend for myself Todoroki.”

“it’s Shouto. and why won’t you let anyone else take care of you? listen, i know i’ve been kind of an ass but i thought we were at least friends, and yet i know nothing about you. i know your favorite color, your favorite animal, that you like sunsets and the rain and snuggling under comfy sheets at the end of the day, that your eyes sparkle when you get a chance to fight but secretly crave peace and comfort, but i don’t know who you are. your name, your story, why you’re really here.”

you heaved as you sat back up, staring him straight in the eye to find no malice, no anger, only confusion, empathy and maybe even a bit of longing. so you told him, you told him everything: who you were, what you were, where you grew up, about your childhood dog and all the scraps you had as a kid, how two strange men in suits approached you and groomed you to fight at the age of sixteen, how it was the only thing you knew how to do, the only thing you were good at, how you scared yourself sometimes because you enjoyed the pain that came with the fights. he sat there watching, eyes wide and unblinking as he absorbed every word you said, every bit of pain and anxiety, of longing for someone to love and understand you, of not having to fight all the time, of wanting to be vulnerable for once.

“let me take care of you,” he declared, standing up and outstretching his hand towards you, helping you up from the cool tile, hand coming to rest behind your head once you had steadied yourself.

he leaned forward, unsure and hesitant, before placing his lips against your own, soft and gentle, tasting of mint chapstick and coffee. you were unsure of yourself, awkward, full of aches and pains, wanting so badly to let go but never wanting to get hurt.

“it’s okay, you’re safe with me. let me take care of you, please.”

that was all it took for you to open up, looping your arms around his neck as he led you back to the bedroom, careful to not run you into anything. your knees hit the back of the bed and you reflexively tensed up, like a deer in headlights.

he shushed you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, heeding the bandage and wound underneath. you laid back after that, body attempting to relax as his hands ran themselves soothingly over your body, across your breasts, the flesh of your stomach, your thighs, the corded muscles in your calves, slipping your shoes off, your socks, kissing every inch of your body along the way, making sure you were comfortable. you shimmied out of your pants, your tight shirt, bra, underwear, finally bare for him to see, scars, bruises, all the imperfections of your life.

“so, so beautiful,” he murmured, taking his time to kiss every single blemish and scar that you had, wanting you to feel his dedication.

after what felt like hours of soft kisses, his thumb came to rest on your clit, rubbing in quick and precise circles, fingers gently parting your folds to press into your body, back arching at the feeling of him already.

“it’s all about you tonight, okay? just relax, let me show you how much i appreciate you.”

and appreciate you he did. he dropped to his knees, nose nuzzling into your pubic bone as he kitten licked your clit once, twice, three times, testing your reaction. you whined and squirmed at the feeling, already overwhelmed by his fingers lazily dragging in and out of you. you wanted, needed more, but Todoroki wouldn’t hear any of that. you deserved to be treated right, treated gently tonight, to allow your worries to melt away, if only for a few moments.

his fingers began picking up pace, pistoning in and out of you, his fingers curling in all the right spots, fists clenched into the downy comforter as you attempted to ground yourself from the overwhelming situation. his tongue worked against your clit, changing speed and pressure, trying to find what was the right combination to set you off, watching your every move intently as you squirmed around on the bed. before he even got a chance to get into a routine, you were already cumming over his fingers, creamy liquid coating the digits.

he hummed in contentment, pulling his fingers out to lick up the syrup, you watching with your pupils blown wide.

you went to sit up, body aching from the adrenaline of the fight, but he pushed you back down into the plush bed, tutting as he settled his head against your thigh, kissing, sucking and biting along the plump flesh, leaving little marks only he would know about.

his tongue began lapping at your clit again, this time harsher, more in tune with what your body wanted. you clenched your legs around his head, fisting his hair with your good hand as you tried to ground yourself yet again to reality. his velvety tongue felt like heaven against your body, coaxing moans and sighs out of your mouth. you felt your second orgasm hit you like a freight truck, tingles running up your spine. you tried to push his head away but he only held your body down, a frighteningly feral look on his face as he continued to lap against your clit, unrelenting in his pursuit to pull orgasm after orgasm from you.

after, two, three, four more highs, you couldn’t tell where one began and one ended, he was finally satisfied, pulling his face away, chin glistening in the dim light. your eyes were teary and red, overwhelmed by everything he had put you through. you had never been more satisfied in your life, and by the look on Shouto’s face, he knew it too.

your eyelids began to droop and your body relaxed into the mattress as you came back down into reality. Shouto shuffled around the room before settling you into your bed, tucking the sheets around your body and propping your head against your pillow.

he was enamored by your, by your story, how you opened up so willingly to him after tonight. nothing would get in between you two now. he was just starting to truly know you, know the real you, and nothing was going to stop him from wooing you until you were his, not even his father., and if her life was ever threatened again by him, well, Shouto would just have to kill Todoroki Enji.

21. Hizashi Yamada and Shouta Aizawa

          Theme: Fox spirits/gods

          Kinks: Threesome, double penetration, biting, marking, praise kink, oral      (receiving), breeding kink (if you squint), polyamory/polyandry

Sorry this is a little late. My brain was like, I know I said I was going to make these short one-shots but how about we make them bigger? 

(The gif has nothing to do with the story, obvi)

Masterlist

You climbed up the many steps leading to the shrine. This was your last resort. The humiliation induced by your vicious ex-boyfriend still left gashes in your heart. Your curse was that you fall in love too quickly and are blind to all faults until it's too late. Your most recent misadventure in love had been so cunning, so cruel that you wasted three years of your life with a man who was, in the words of your best friends, a massive cunt. Manipulative, emotionally abusive, but the cherry on top was the rumor he spread about you having an S.T.D. you'd gotten while cheating on him. Mind you, he was the one with the sexually transmitted disease. You were spared because you hadn't slept with him in recent months. The sting was a deadly blow to your self-confidence and trust in men.

After months of battling depression and anxiety, your aunt suggested a remote village trip and visit this exact shrine. Upon arrival, you were acutely aware of all the women either paired off or visibly pregnant. You noticed this at arrival. It was small at first—a lot of couples paired off, two by two like swans. Then, when you approached the marketplace and asked for directions, you noticed how the shopkeeper was pregnant, along with her sister and sister-in-law. There weren't many single men or single women as far as you could tell. Even a male couple looked happy.

You wanted to burn this town to ashes.

It was insulting, really. You came all this way just to have happiness and love shoved in your face while you, the miserable wretch, were forced to pine. You tried not to scowl as happy couples passed you by. Keeping your eyes focused ahead of you was all you could do to avoid knocking the smiles off their faces. Now, here you were, mounting the steps to a shrine shrouded by pines and red maples. Leaves rustled on the steps, which drew your attention. Fallen leaves littered the stairs and the shrine's sacred grounds, but that seemed awfully unauspicious. Was there no groundskeeper, no shrine maiden, no priest to clear them away? As you reached half-way up the hill, you noticed the smell in the air. Not a bad smell, but it was pervasive all around. The scent invaded your senses. It smelled a lot like jasmine and patchouli. You didn't think much of it and thought it was just someone burning incense at the shrine.

Two masculine figures lounged in the garden. One looked indifferent while the other moped. The latter was blonde; it matched the protruding fox ears on his head and the fluffy, swishing tail patting his thigh. He rested his head on the lap of the former, who appeared much like him except his hair, ears, and tail were black as ink. This one wore an indifferent expression. He looked out into the garden as he made a mental list of all the things he had to do around the shrine. Weeds had encroached where they weren't wanted during the summer and now choked the garden. Fall arrived early this year and made the trees shed their leaves too soon. The steps, as well as the grounds and roof, were covered in maple leaves. The inside needed moping, shining, dusting, and replacing oil lamps. There was still the matter of the hole in the sanctuary's ceiling that needed mending. But was there any human around to do it? No. The last priest died over fifty years ago. Shouta, the black fox, and Hizashi, the blonde fox, had been left alone to answer the whims of pilgrims.

It was almost thankless work. Ensuring happy marriages, love matches, and fertility was hard work when one was forced to clean their own shrine. As long as they were tied to this spot, Hizashi and Shouta had no other choice. The only thing more embarrassing than a shrine-god having to clean up his own shrine was a homeless one.

"I'm starting to miss the old man," said Hizashi. "He was so much fun to drink with. At least he had a sense of humor. Unlike the other fuddy-duddies, they tried to send us."

A few months after the last priest's death, his congregation tried to settle another to take his place. The successor was stern and took his job too seriously for Hizashi's liking. 'He's too dull,' Hizashi used to complain. Shouta wasn't much of a fan either, but it was more due to Hizashi's constant sighs and complaints that drove him to chase the priest away. Shouta ensured that no other settled down for too long. As far as the pair was concerned, the priest who died fifty years ago was their last worthy priest.

"It's so boring and lonely up here. There's no one to play with," Hizashi complained.

Shouta rolled his eyes. Hizashi was in one of his moods again. Boredom took a toll more on him than his 'co-worker' and sometimes lover. It was easy to get bored of making love for fifty-odd years while still working a thankless job. Only occasionally did some old lady or grateful newlywed came to offer incense and drop a donation. Whenever there was money, even a scrap, either Shouta or Hizashi would venture down the hill to mingle with the humans for a little bit. Men or women often flirted with them, but they couldn't decide on a partner they could both enjoy. Instead, everyone was declined.

"Maybe we could call up Nemuri and see what she's up to?" Hizashi suggested.

Shouta gave a flat answer. "No."

Hizashi pouted and went back to his pouting.

"You're no fun," said Hizashi.

"I know." Shouta petted Hizashi's ears to placate him.

Suddenly, a shudder rippled through both of them. They looked at one another. A smile quickly spread across Hizashi's face.

"We have a visitor!" He jumped up at once and dusted himself off.

"We have visitors all the time," said Shouta, but this was a lie. Visitors became fewer after the summer once pilgrims got their desire.

"But did you feel that, Shouta? A poor, miserable, broken-hearted young woman just crossed the path of our statues, and she's heading this way. Don't you feel it? Oh, the poor dear?"

The shrine-gods knew the hearts of all those who entered. It was their specialty to work in all the matters of the heart and the bedroom. Sniffing out broken hearts was a talent they both shared, but Hizashi was the more sensitive one. A fractured heart held an aura that most humans couldn't detect by sensing it alone. Sometimes it was a trifling matter. This time, however, Hizashi felt far more significant pain. Betrayal called out to him like a widow. He hadn't even seen the woman's face but could smell her despair, hate, and ache from miles away. She needed help.

Shouta felt it too. He pitied the human and wondered what brought her to that state. His curiosity was peaked, which didn't happen very often, if at all. Her presence was a sad one, and it threatened to taint the whole shrine with her negativity. Negativity drew hungry ghosts and pesky imps like moths to a flame. All of that meant more work for him. Aside from wanting to protect what little dignity his shrine had left, it was his duty to help this miserable wretch.

"Can we introduce ourselves, Shouta?" Hizashi's bright green eyes twinkled with mischief, hope, and something else Shouta could not easily define.

Shouta weighed the pros and cons in his head. By the time he came to a decision, he could hear the woman walking into the courtyard. Her voice was carried on the autumn wind. She was curious too, likely wondering why a shrine was seemingly left abandoned and in disarray. It would be rude to let her go forlorn after a trek up the hill.

You passed under the second torii gates and a second pair of fox statues. There were no lion-dogs as you saw in most other shrines, but this one had a strong love for foxes apparently. You looked at the water in the pavilion used for ceremonial purification. You cringed at the slightly brackish water and used very little to purify your hands. As soon as you got to the nearest restroom, you were going to scrub your hands raw. Walking down the narrow path leading to the inner sanctuary, you kept noticing very odd things. The shrine was in massive disrepair with cracks, debris, and brackish water. It wasn't a complete eyesore, but something did not feel right. There was not a soul you could find; loneliness pervaded every inch of the place. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as you walked on. You found the spot where wishers and pilgrims wrote their prayers on wooden plaques to hang them up. While there were plenty of rustling in the wind, they weren't very many. You scrawled your desire for a loving partner, happiness, and to forget the man who wounded you so deeply.

You hung the plaque alongside the three dozen blowing in the wind. You went further ahead to pay your respect at the small public shrines built on the side of the shrine's complex. There were only two buildings. One foot across, seven feet long, and six feet tall, they were impressively big for small shrines. These were the only buildings uncovered by leaves and pines branches. You marveled briefly at their pristine appearance. In your bag, you brought along the incense your aunt prescribed. You retrieved two sticks of carnation incense and dipped the stick end in the bowl of sand. You lit the incense, clapped your hands twice, and said a prayer. You did this twice at both shrines.

You turned your back to face going all the way down the hill again when you spotted something at the corner of your eye. At first, it seemed like your mind was playing tricks on you. Out of the corner, you thought you saw a ball of glowing blue light flicker in the window of the main shrine. The main shrine was off to limits to everyone but the priests and shrine maidens. This was where the kami, the god, was housed and worshipped by the clergy. You turned to see if what you saw had really been there. Another flash of blue flickered in the window and then another. You swallowed hard, but curiosity pinched at you. You wanted to know. With a quick glance around, you wandered over to the main shrine.

You cut over the grass and walked into the oratory. There were no voices or footsteps other than your own. You called out to anyone who would be listening, yet no one answer was given. Your voice carried down the halls. However, just because no one answered, it didn't exclude the idea altogether that no one listened. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end as you drew closer to what you assumed was the forbidden connecting hall that led into the inner sanctuary, which was supposed to be off-limits to the public. As far as you could tell, no one was around to stop you or tell you no.

You took a deep breath and crossed the threshold. Your heart pounded inside your chest. The halls were so dark you had to grope around just to find a wall. You tried to turn around and head out only to get yourself more lost. It was as if you were stuck in a maze. Every direction looked the same, and turning around seemed to make matters worse.

In desperation, you called out, "Hello?"

Still no answer. You trekked further in the hopes of running into someone, anyone, and get them to show you the way out. You hoped that they had a flashlight on hand. You would barely make out your hand in front of your face if you held it up.

Another flash of blue had you whirling on your face. You whipped your head in that direction. Shivers ran down your spine as you felt a pair of eyes bore a hole into the back of your head. It didn't feel like something glaring at you, but the sensation frightened you nevertheless. You took off in the direction of the blue flash. Yet another appeared up ahead, further along than the previous. You started running after it. More appeared, and each grew more distinct in shape and color than the last. You managed to get close enough to hear the hiss and flicker of its fire. You stared at a ball of blue flames with its tongue licking the air. It disappeared into nothingness and reappear off in a different direction.

You found it hovering in front of a set of shoji doors. It disappeared once more. Lights flickered behind the rice paper. You pried your fingers against the seams and pushed the door open. Lamps lined the walls. They burned with pale blue and white flames behind their screens. You approached with caution and gripped your bag straps tight.

Wooden floors creaked beneath your feet. You mentally cursed yourself for dragging your shoes inside the holy place, but the longer you glanced around the room, the more it seemed that this was not an ordinary shrine. The room had a lower portion accessible by three steps, and a red mat covered much of the space. A shrine rested on the floor on the other side. In each of the four corners was a vase that held carnation flowers. Somehow, all the flowers were in perfect condition and thrived in the forgotten space. You stepped carefully towards the shrine when you felt something behind you.

You looked over your shoulder. Not something, but someone and just a someone but someones. It wasn't the fact that you finally met another person at the shrine or that they were men that gave you alarm. It was the ears sticking out on top of their heads, the tails swishing back and forth behind them, and the regal manner in which they bore themselves. The one in a black yukata folded his arms across his chest and looked quite serious, probably because you were trespassing. The other man wore a red yukata, but he appeared far more friendly than his companion. He smiled broadly at you as if you hadn't just broken one of the most sacred, unspoken rules about behavior at a shrine. You swallowed hard and bowed from the waist.

"I am so sorry for intruding, sirs. I-I didn't mean to intrude…I got lost and couldn't find my way out. I'll leave immediately if you just show me the way. I promise I'll never come back and disturb another shrine so long as I live!"

"Easy there, little sparrow. No need to get riled up," said the friendlier one.

Slowly, you raised yourself up. You looked at them again, still bewildered by their ears and tail. They were either the strangest priests you were likely to ever come across, or they were—

"What business do you have here?" Asked the more somber fellow.

"I-I" You choked on your words. "I had a boyfriend who did rotten things to me. I was hoping to, to, um, to…" Your voice trailed off.

You were too distracted by the fox ears on their heads. They looked too real to be fake, but how was that possible?

The blonde one snapped his fingers.

"My eyes are down here, love," he chuckled.

Your cheeks darkened with embarrassment. "Please, if you could just tell me how to get out of here, I'll leave you alone."

Your first instinct would be to bolt for the door. When you glanced behind them, the doors had been shut when you remember having left them open. Were these demons standing in front of you? Is that why the shrine seemed so empty?

"Leaving so soon? But you haven't even heard our proposal yet?" Said the blonde.

Your brows furrowed. "P-Proposal?"

The black-haired fox-eared man slipped something out of his yukata sleeve. It was your wood plaque you left hanging outside. His ebony eyes gleaned over your wish and read it aloud.

"I don't know who will answer this, but I want to find true love, a life partner who will never stick a knife in me and twist. A man, or frankly anyone who will love and care for me. Please bring me happiness and make me forget about the man who abused me for three years. Is this your wish, Y/N?"

Your face drained of color. "How do you know my name?"

"We have our methods. I'm Hizashi. The dour one is Shouta. It's lovely to meet you."

"W-what are you?" You ventured to ask.

"We're the shrine gods. It's been lonely up here for a while now. The priests haven't been to our liking for the last fifty years, so we're forced to take care of the place ourselves, which is rather insulting if you think about it," said Hizashi.

"And…what are you the gods of?"

"Love, fertility, happy marriages, love-matches, all that fun stuff," answered Hizashi.

"Are you the reason why every other woman I met in town is pregnant?"

Hizashi answered, "Of course. We've been blessing this region with successful pregnancies for centuries. There hasn't been but a handful of miscarriages in all these years thanks to us."

"We're not the cause of the pregnancies if that's what that face is for, Y/N. We just ensure that the infant comes to term and reduce sterility in men and women," said Shouta, who had apparently been studying your face very closely.

Your blush darkened.

"Otherwise, this town would be full of half-fox spirits roaming around, wouldn't it?" Hizashi laughed.

"Okay…" You thought for a moment about what you were going to say next. This was all too surreal, but this was better than feeling miserable. "But what do you want from me?"

Hizashi and Shouta exchanged looks. A soft smile crept upon Shouta's face.

"We'll grant you your wish. On a few conditions," Shouta began. "As you can tell, our shrine is in dire need of—what do you humans call it nowadays? T.L.C.?"

"Tender love and care?" You said.

"Yes. That. Our shrine has been in disrepair for some time, but as much as the villagers enjoy making offerings, they aren't too keen on cleaning it. As you can imagine, it's rather embarrassing cleaning up your own shrine," Shouta continued.

"So, what you're saying is that you'll get me a decent boyfriend if I clean your house?"

"We can do better than, little sparrow," said Hizashi.

You felt his eyes wander your body. You couldn't help but shiver. Out of fear or anticipation, you couldn't tell at this point. You might have been hallucinating for all you knew.

"How would you like to be the wife of a god?" Hizashi laughed again. "Or two?"

"W-Wife? I just wanted a boyfriend who loved me. I don't remember asking for polyandry. Besides, why would you tie yourselves to someone human and mortal."

"We can cross that bridge when we come to it," said Hizashi.

"What do you say? Help us repair the shrine, and you'll have something better than a boyfriend. It sounds like a good deal, doesn't it?" Asked Shouta.

"Yeah," you said incredulously. "A little too good to be true. What's the catch?"

"You would have to live here and 'maintain' the shrine's cleanliness and reputation. We could get someone to teach you to perform the kagura dance. Learn a few things that would make you useful around the shrine and to the villagers. A shrine maiden, for all intents and purposes."

That did even things out. You weren't tied to your apartment, especially since it still had the ghosts of your past boyfriends lingering in there. You didn't go to college, and you hated your job. Becoming basically a shrine maiden and marry a pair of fox-gods seemed like a step-up from your hum-drum life.

"Hypothetically, if I agreed to all that, how would we go about making it official? Are we to have a big wedding? Does Ōkuninushi* have to be involved? Is there supposed to be a ceremony we have to follow?" The questions tumbled out of your mouth one by one in your unusual state of mind.

"So many questions. To answer all of them in one go, here it is. All you have to do is enjoy yourself," said Hizashi.

Before you could ask what he meant, Hizashi closed the gap between you. His mouth was suddenly on yours, and his hands settled on your backpack's straps. Your load was unburdened by your shoulders. Hizashi's hands ran through your hair, holding your head hostage. You heard Shouta's footsteps come along beside you. He worked your shoes off your feet and your socks as well. When he arose, Shouta's hands found your waist. He snatched your head away from Hizashi to kiss you himself. From there on out, it was a frenzy of hands, mouths, and tongues teasing you.

The first thing to go was clothes. Hizashi and Shouta worked together to get rid of the annoying layers that kept them from feeling up more of your skin. Your autumn outfit suited the chilly weather outside but was ill-fitted for their current needs. Their hands peeled off each layer of clothing until you wore nothing but your bra and panties. Somewhere between removing each item of clothing, one of them summoned an extra-large tatami mat out of thin air. You landed softly on the sleeping mat, cradled between them. Their kimonos were disposed of in the same manner as your modern clothes, with one exception. They were both utterly naked underneath their yukatas. Your blush spread down to the top of your chest at the mere sight of their hardening members.

"You look so pretty blushing like that, Y/N," said Hizashi.

He took his place between your legs. Hizashi playfully snapped the hem of your panties. He seemed to enjoy your small yelp as the elastic snapped against your skin. Shouta sat on his knees and pulled your back flush against his chest. He unclipped your bra and tossed it aside. Hizashi pulled at your underwear until the fabric tore. You opened your mouth in protest, but all the words stopped in your throat to make room for the moan. Shouta palmed your breasts and tweaked your nipples into stiff peaks. Your ruined panties were forgotten as soon as Hizashi settled one of your legs over his shoulder, and he ran his long tongue along your slit.

"It's been a while since we've laid with a woman. You'll have to forgive us if we're a bit rusty," said Hizashi.

Hizashi ran his tongue along your slit again and hummed at your taste. His tongue dove between your folds and pinched your clit. Meanwhile, Shouta kept at his administrations to your chest and kissing your shoulders. You arched your back when you felt the tiniest pinprick of sharp teeth graze your skin. Shouta smirked at you and gave you a nice look at the fangs he had. Hizashi had the same situation going on. You could feel his teeth carefully caress your sensitive bits.

"Do you like my teeth, Y/N?" Asked Shouta.

You bit your lower lip and nodded.

"Then you're really going to like this." Shouta lowered his head to the spot where your neck met your shoulders.

He bit down, but not hard enough to draw blood. His hands continued to tease you while his mouth and teeth left dozens of love bites all over your neck. Hizashi pulled his head up from between your legs. He watched for a moment how your face twisted in ecstasy as Shouta marked your lovely skin. It didn't take long for the idea to get in his head that he should do the same. Hizashi brought his teeth against your inner thigh and nipped. He repeated the process over and over until both of your legs bore his teeth marks and hickies. You squirmed for them. Heat traveled in two directions, to your head and your lower belly. Hizashi resumed his task of fucking you with his tongue and added two fingers to help him in this endeavor. Soft squelches from you gushing over him was enough to make you never want to leave.

"You're so pliable, and your breasts are breathtaking," Shouta sighed next to your skin. "Are you about to cum, Y/N?"

You bucked your hips to the rhythm of Hizashi eating you out. Slowly, you nodded. Your fingers clutched Hizashi's head, mindful of his ears.

"Then," Shouta whispered the next part in your ear. "Cum."

Hizashi worked faster, pumping and licking your cunt. You grabbed for Shouta as pleasure ripped down your spine. Hizashi and Shouta shoved you face-first down the precipice. Your walls clenched tight around Hizashi's fingers and tongue while your jaws hung open. No one else could make you moan as loud as you did. And likely, nobody else ever will.

When Hizashi came up for air, his mouth and chin were drenched your essence. He leaned up, but instead of kissing you, he planted his lips on Shouta's. In turn, Shouta licked Hizashi's mouth to get a taste of you for himself while he was at. Shouta reached down and played with your clit while making-out with Hizashi briefly. You felt their members stand proudly against your body, and your inner walls clenched at the thought of one or both filling you to the brim.

Shouta and Hizashi kissed one more time. Hizashi peeled you off of Shouta just long enough for the latter to stretch out on his back. You were turned around. Shouta gestured with a 'come-hither' crook of his finger, and you crawled towards him. His hands grabbed your hips, made you straddle him, and pressed the blunt head of his cock against your slippery, wet cunt.

"Are you ready?" He asked. It was child's play holding you up like that with his cock more than ready to impale you.

You nodded your head. Shouta slowly, carefully pulled you down on his cock. It stretched you open again. You sank down on him until you were fully seated. You tried not to let your eyes roll into the back of your head. Shouta then grabbed your shoulders and pulled you down. Hizashi was right behind you, fisting his cock. He wasn't as big, but he was just as long. Hizashi placed his other hand on the small of your back. You felt his cock probe the area where Shouta was already preoccupied. Something clicked in your head. Shouta grabbed and clutched your hands. Beads of sweat ran down the side of your face while Hizashi brushed his cuck against your cunt.

"Look at me," said Shouta. "Look at me. You're going to be fine. We'll make you feel so good."

"So very good," Hizashi cooed.

You tightened your grip on Shouta's hands. You stared at his face as Hizashi pushed forward, stuffing you close to the point of damage. You were well-lubed up to take both of them, but in practice, this was your first time having two men fill you at the same time. Inch by careful inch, Hizashi pushed into your cunt. When he was fully seated, he let out a long sigh.

"I can feel both of you against, and it feels so good." Hizashi shuddered.

"Can you move?" Shouta asked Hizashi.

"Give me a minute."

You were given a few minutes reprieve, and in that time, you felt your lower belly swell. You felt them stretch you to impossible measures. Though tears stained your cheeks, you never felt more pleasure. The mixture of both pleasure and pain blurred the lines. It wasn't long before you were being pushed and pulled in either direction, their cocks fucking you deep.

Wet skin slapped against skin. The men you were sandwiched between grunted and moaned your praises at your ability to take them both so deep. There weren't any words you could say with any cohesion. Words became meaningless when being fucked into oblivion. Hizashi and Shouta worked in tandem. When one pulled out, the other plowed right in. Both cocks kissed your cervix as they drove themselves, and each other, wildly into your cunt. You felt fluids rush between your legs that mingled with your sweat. You squeezed Shouta's hands and buried your face in his chest.

Higher, higher, and higher still, you were flying. You bit Shouta's chest as their cocks thrust in and out. Your brain turned into mush at this point. All you cared about was getting fucked on their cocks forever. Little else mattered beyond that.

"I'm close," said Shouta.

"M-Me too," said Hizashi.

"Then let's finish it."

Without another word, they started to drive faster than before, and you thought it was impossible. Shouta returned your bruising grip and rammed upwards to meet Hizashi's downward thrust. They both moved quickly and headed towards coming undone inside you. You felt it too. Your walls spasmed and fluttered around both their cocks, though the stretch made it hard to tell. They shifted into an erratic pace rather than a smooth move. Their cocks drove harder into your cunt. Animalistic grunts filled the room as both Shouta and Hizashi slammed home. You screamed your climax just at the same time they did. You kept screaming while ropes of cum warmed your belly. You were moaning into Shouta's chest as you felt buckets of their seed filled your womb. There was nothing for you to wonder about why they were the gods of fertility and pregnancy.

Hizashi pulled all the out first. He massaged your shoulders while Shouta lifted your hips off him. Hizashi's long fingers dabbed some of the cum dripping down your thighs and pushed it back inside your weeping pussy.

"You gotta keep it in, ya, little sparrow. You want to be a good wife to your husbands, don't you?" Hizashi cooed.

*Ōkuninushi- mentioned in both the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki as the god of nation-building, agriculture, business, medicine, love, marriage, and fortune

Long Awaited LoZ Thoughts

I’d like to start this off by explaining my background. I have a BA in English with a minor in Humanities. I have lived all my life in the Bible Belt of America, so my PoV of this series is inevitably going to be, at least in part, from the perspective of a Western-centric, Christianity-influenced woman. I have grown up with a deep interest in folk tales and mythology though, and took several classes on ancient cultures, so my base knowledge of religion all over the world is broader than what you’d probably expect. I am not religious myself, I’m actually agnostic. And this is just an in-universe look at the very strange religion of Hyrule. So, to make things easier, let’s just put aside the obvious meta issues with this world. The wonky timeline, complex lore changes between said timelines, and the fact that the whole series has clearly grown wildly over the course of its development without an overarching plot. The game mechanics being game mechanics. All of it. This whole thing will just be me trying to make sense of the world without the ‘it’s just a game, bro’ crutch. I will be drawing on what I know from the many games I’ve played myself, so if I don’t mention a big piece of lore from a specific game, it’s because I didn’t play it. Go ahead and rule out the early games before Ocarina of Time, as that’s the first game in the series I can remember playing. I was legitimately too young to have ever played anything prior to that, having been born in 1996. Now let’s get started, shall we?

 So, obviously everyone knows that the LoZ world is said to begin with the three goddesses. Din, Nayru, and Farore came together to create the world and before they yote themselves out of the narrative as direct players, they created the Triforce. A powerful artifact capable of granting a wish and giving their respective bearers undefined power. This is directly from Ocarina of Time and we see their symbol, the Triforce, all over the many games with very few exceptions. Now, to be clear, having a polytheistic religion with three main gods is hardly new. Hinduism has three main gods after all (Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva), and depending on your flavor of Christianity, you have the holy trinity (God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit). There’s even the Celtic goddesses that come specifically in threes (collectively called The Morrigan; Eriu, Fodla, and Banba). This isn’t an exhaustive list of three divine beings, by the way, just know that three is a weird trend in western-centric stories, including religion. But what’s different about the three Hyrule Goddesses? Well, they’re weirdly small for big shot gods. Let me explain.

        So, the three Hindu gods I mentioned earlier each handle a specific aspect. Creation, destruction, and preservation, not necessarily in that order though (which god does what isn’t the point, so just roll with me here). These are very broad and powerful subjects. Christianity is much the same, even though it’s a monotheistic religion. God is literally an all-powerful, omniscient, omnipotent deity. Jesus is his son who gave his life to basically forgive all sin. And I’m not totally clear on the Holy Spirit, but these three are clearly Big Deals with Big Ideas behind them. A good rule of thumb for old religion is that the older the deity, the wider the scope of their job or what they represent. Which makes sense. If you had to personify the forces of the universe, you’d probably start with the sun instead of like… whatever god is responsible for the creation of rice specifically. The bigger and scarier the natural force, the bigger deal that god usually is, putting aside politics and cultural trends. Egypt is a good example of this, as their roster of gods tended to change a lot depending on who was Pharaoh at the time and wherever the city center was. Horus is the god of the sun, or at least one of them, and is generally considered king of the gods. Which makes perfect sense for a land largely made up of a desert.

But what are the three goddesses’ rulers of? Power, Wisdom, and Courage. Each with clear elemental associations and people that are obviously affiliated with them. Nayru, Goddess of Wisdom, is clearly associated with water and likely has a close connection with the Zora. Din, Goddess of Power, is associated with fire and has clear connection with the Gerudo (unclear if the same goddess as the one present in the desert temple in Ocarina of Time). Farore, Goddess of Courage, is associated with all things green and of the earth, including the child-like race of Kokiri who perpetually inhabit the forest. Sure, these are broad topics, but not really… the first thing you’d think of for creators of the universe, are they? And it raises the question about the Hyrule people, who are said to be able to hear the gods due to their pointed ears… let’s put a pin in that and move on.

So, we know there are many gods in this universe, primarily because we meet them. For example, Zephos, God of Winds, in Wind Waker. But he’s clearly a fairly forgotten god, as he shares a shrine with Cylcos, God of Cyclones, which is about as bare as it can be. Just what appears to be a Tori gate with two stone monuments with the simple notes to summon them, almost completely out of the way. Which… I mean, I don’t know many gods with their extension number written on their monuments. That would kind of like going to church on Sunday and seeing “Hit me up if you need me, J-Boy 555-TAKE THE WHEEL” written on the podium. And remember, this is a world and game where the gods actively flooded the world and would therefore hold or have held enough power to directly interfere with Hyrule.

And Skyward Sword clearly has divine beings, one of which even flooded a whole area, though they’re subservient to Hylia. Who we will get back to later, I promise. The three dragons (again, that magic number), capable of divine power, though where that power comes from in unclear. The dragons are of a high status though, as evident by their servants and clear reference to high-class dress of their clothes. These dragons are revered, but clearly not worshipped, much like nobles in that regard. A curious note is the parallels to the three goddesses, and how the symbols are muddled and mixed for these dragons.

Lanayru clearly has the symbols associated with the Zora, and by extension Nayru, but is yellow. He also is saved by time travel used to grow a magic fruit, which Link often uses (time travel) in many games to advance the plot himself (and wouldn’t you know it, but mixing blue with yellow does produce green. Weird). Faron is the water dragon who flooded an area, and she is almost entirely blue (as well as unsettling to look at), surrounded by a species clearly related to the Zora though closer to octopi. But her name is Faron, which is weirdly close to Farore’s name, not Nayru. I mean, they are close to locations that resemble their names of course, but it’s still an interesting note. Finally, there’s Eldin, clearly bearing a symbol associated with the Gerudo without any strange mixes of symbols for the series. Oddly, he’s also the most open of the three dragons, especially considering the Gerudo’s traditional stance of being a ‘no-sausage’ club. Not terribly relevant, but I just thought it was interesting to point out. You can consider the Giants in Majora’s Mask on the same level as them, though their status is unclear (Since they’re summoned by a song and can stop the moon from falling, they probably straddle the line between mortal and divine).

Now, spirits also exist in this world, both as the ghostly variety and the more pseudo-divine. Not to be confused with actual divinity. Divine being can be spirits, but not all spirits are divine. In this context, spirits can be defined more as being of power capable of granting aid in return for something. Zephos can change the winds if called upon, but you don’t need to feed him, for example. But the spirits in Twilight Princess need aid before they can help you. And they’re also not very independent and are able to be fooled easily, which isn’t usually a god-like quality. While more physically present than the three goddesses, they’re also not strictly tangible, and seem to be extremely limited to their location. At best, these spirits could be classified as minor deities below the gods we see in Wind Waker. They also share the same abilities in keeping the realm of Twilight from falling over the land of Hyrule, as well as their weakness to parasites of undetermined origin. An interesting note is that they all seem to live in bodies of water. Let’s put a pin in that one too.

Someone that also counts as a spirit would be Fi and her counterpart, Ghirahim. Literally two halves of the same coin, these two are both very limited in power and function. They don’t represent anything on their own and are very dependent on others to achieve results. How or why they were made is unclear, but it is obvious that both were forged at some point, and clearly gained sentience. Even their personalities and allegiances are a bit odd. Fi for her sci-fi appearance and calculating personality in a fantasy land, and Ghirahim for his… well, everything. I don’t know why the root of all evil would make his weapon a full-tilt diva, let alone on purpose. Ghirahim always struck me as odd since his bombastic personality seemed to clash with his ultimate fate of just being a weapon for Demise.

Okay, so the Great Fairies are weird, okay?! Like, really weird. They act as spirits (I can’t think of any that aren’t restricted to a body of water in some form), but are very independent. They also don’t necessarily need anything from Link to offer assistance. Sometimes, just opening the fairy fountain is enough to gain items needed to progress. And there’s also the fact that fairies heal you upon ‘death’, though with a limited heart capacity. Sometimes they need you to do something though, like the Breath of the Wild fairies need rupees to function or items to upgrade equipment. They also usually look human, like Majora’s Mask Great Fairies are clearly just… giant women with color coded accessories. But like, they float. Where Great Faires come from, or even just regular fairies, is unclear. Until Wind Waker, Great Faires were adults. But when you finally meet the real Great Fairy in Wind Waker it’s… a child. With a doll that looks just like the ‘Great Fairies’ you’ve seen along the way. This sort of implies that Great Fairies age and die, though clearly with a different lifetime than most races in Hyrule (the child Great Fairy also only looks somewhat human compared to other Great Fairies, so make of that what you will). And it also implies that all the adult Great Fairies are dead (you’re welcome for that depressing thought), with the last one trapped in a hollow tree only accessible by the power of a God.

In Breath of the Wild, the Great Fairies are both diminished but more powerful. They literally are stuck in a giant flower with water in it, with few fairies around them, and require riches to get stronger. The connection to their new restrictions to this need for material wealth is unclear. It’s also interesting to note that their fountains are no longer places that appear to be man-made holy temples and they seem to be out of the way… well, for a given value of ‘out of the way’ (looking at you ninja village). These fairies can accomplish more tasks, but certainly won’t be doing it for free or with minimal effort. A far cry from their first appearances (no, I don’t consider using explosives a difficult task).

But Fairies are also companions with nebulous tasks, such as in Ocarina of Time, where Tatl follows Link until the end of the game. And Kokiri have their own fairy as a sign of whatever accounts for adulthood in their race. The Skull Kid in Majora’s Mask has two fairy friends who seemed to have been either lost or abandoned. Who or what gives them purpose and life is unclear, though the Great Deku Tree from Ocarina of Time can give commands, it doesn’t seem to be something he does normally? As a side note, it’s really not clear what, if anything he can actually do. Though the relative safety of the surrounding area is clearly tied with his wellbeing in all iterations, he doesn’t seem to directly influence it, or be capable of self-defense.

Now, onto the elephant in the room! Hylia! Who the hell is this?! A more recent entry to the series, her divine roll is unclear (though she clearly guards the Triforce in some capacity). It can be assumed that she’s somehow a goddess tied directly to the Hylian people, but when she appeared is up for debate. Timeline wise, it’s almost like knowledge of her was suppressed for some reason, giving rise to the Triforce mythos we all know and love without hide or hair of her seen. We know that she favored the original Link greatly, enough to shed her divinity to be reborn as a mortal and assist him. How or why is also unclear, though it wouldn’t be unfair to assume she loved him, as divine ladies holding an affair with a mortal isn’t uncommon in mythology (or even male gods doing the same, before anyone brings up Zeus). But she makes a resurgence in Breath of the Wild, with statues and everything, with the three goddesses left to only vague references in the background. Which is super weird, though not uncommon for places like Ancient Egypt. The fact that the ruling family was literally descendant from a goddess is what makes it weird though, since any monarchy worth their salt would milk that until the peasant folk revolted and made a new religion to justify killing a god.

Zelda in every incarnation is literally descendant from the original and still held at least a fraction of that divine power. So much so that a cornerstone of a powerful religious artifact inevitably ends up in her hands (or on the back of her right hand, as it were). But what is Hylia a Goddess of? We don’t know. It’s never said. Anywhere. And that’s super weird, even for a ubiquitous deity. Sure she’s a Goddess of Hyrule but… what does that mean? That can’t be all she is? Her reincarnation is literally locked in a generational struggle against the forces of darkness! What can she do as a Goddess? Well, she makes Link stronger in return for items, but that seems to be it. In Ocarina of Time, Zelda was capable of sending Link back to the past, but that was with a magic item. And we know Hylia isn’t the Goddess of Time, because Zelda references her in Majora’s Mask (sequel to Ocarina of Time, therefore implying that there are more gods unmentioned at that time), when Hylia should be mortal or at least fragmented (because Zelda exists at the time with powers and a Triforce piece). The Guardian of Time in Hyrule Warriors also fell in love with Link before splitting into Cia and Lana (and was unable to fuse back together again), so it’s unlikely that she’s the Goddess of Time Zelda was referring to, though that detail is interesting to note. No, I will not discuss if Hyrule Warriors is canon (either game), as this is already long enough as it is.

So, that brings us to Ganon, or in his original form, Demise. Which… what’s up with that? Who is this guy? He directly opposes the gods and just… gets away with it! Repeatedly! Sure, he loses most of the time, but still. It’s unclear where Demise came from, or even what he is, though judging by Ghirahim’s ‘Demon Lord’ title, it can be assumed that he is some type of demon himself. And that the many monsters we see are also considered demons, which makes sense with how they always work for Demise (or his many iterations) in some form or another. Considering how much it takes to simply seal him away, he can’t be just a demon though.

        Demise obviously pulled the same trick Hylia did, which directly sets him up as a counterpart to her, but what does it mean? Why would he do that? What is Demise that he can’t be beat with the power of a Goddess alone and needs not only a brave knight but a blade literally made to counter him? Within the context of religion, the best guess I can make is that he’s some form of a God of Darkness, possibly also Temptation, Greed, and Pigs Corruption. It fits within the narrative since power is often the strongest form of temptation and we know that demons capable of opposing the gods exist. The Horned Statue literally takes Hylia’s blessings in exchange for wealth, and was turned into a statue for it. What it stands to gain from any of it is unclear, but interestingly enough, Hylia doesn’t mind that it closely resembles her own statues. So, this raises the question… why isn’t Demise a forgotten statue somewhere along a dusty road? How did he curse(?) both a reborn goddess and a human in an eternal struggle for the fate of Hyrule?

        Being a god is about the only explanation for why he can do the things that he does. It explains why, in every incarnation, he ends up a rule (like Zelda). How he controls so many different species with ease. He corrupts the conflicted as easily as breathing. An interesting note is how Demise in his many forms usually ends up corrupting once good forces in some way, typically with parasites or evil spirits. And with this context, Hylia must be a Goddess of Light, and possibly some form of Will and Purity to oppose Demise’s power. It would also make her a good candidate for looking after the Triforce in that case. And yet we don’t know any of this for sure either, which is, again, very strange considering their presence from the very beginning. Literally.

Now, I want to mention the temples as a last point before wrapping this up, because it has bothered me since I was a wee little whipper snapper. For a place of worship, they sure are hard to navigate, even when they’re empty of monsters. And it’s not like Hyrule doesn’t get this, because the Temple of Time in Ocarina of Time is straight up a church. Just… without pews, so clearly not perfect, but it is possible for people to come in and… worship time, I guess. And no, not the Goddess of Time, because there’s no statue for that. I mean, I know it’s secretly hiding the Master Sword, but it is definitely a church otherwise. What a normal service looks like I can’t say for sure, but it’s definitely not like literally any other temples we see.

        Now, I know it’s a little hard to remember, but temples are usually places where one goes to worship the gods (or even just a god). And we know gods exist in a very real way in Hyrule! They still manage to name Zelda the same thing despite having seemingly buried their divine origins, so some knowledge of gods walking the mortal realm exists. But the temples/dungeons we see usually don’t have much in the way of religious iconography, with a few exceptions (interestingly it’s typically the desert area that actually has statues and could feasibly have had a real capacity for worship). You want to be a devout follower of a god anywhere else? Well, fuck you. Hope you brought a sword and a good pair of boots. If you’re allowed inside at all, since it’s usually the local leaders that are only allowed inside for some reason. And most games don’t seem to have very religious people, despite all the references to divinity. Not like we’d expect them to, at least. And I personally can’t blame them. If I tried to join a religion but found only a wall as an entrance, I’d be pretty disheartened too. Then I’d be pretty pissed to find out I needed not only a royal instrument handed down the monarchy, but their freaking lullaby to even get in to the place of worship. But we know they pray to the gods at least semi-often, since that’s one of the inciting incidences in Wind Waker. And they have offering to statues of Hylia.

        The temples suggest the bar to impress the gods is pretty high, and not in a ‘sacrifice your eldest child’ kind of way. To even get the chance to reach the inner chambers you better hope it’s been kept well and that you didn’t skip leg day recently. Something I didn’t really mention before is that usually, the less involved the gods are, the more independent the people are from worship. If you worry that your local deity will flood your fields, you’re probably leaving regular offerings at their nearby shrine or temple. But if you know that the gods don’t care about literally anything you do, why worship them at all? Why make statues, art, or temples? Why bother with any of it? The answer is you don’t. So these highly selective temples are pretty weird unless you go with the idea the gods are just really done with people and never want to talk to them unless absolutely necessary.

So, I’ve rambled for over twelve pages now. What’s the point? What does any of this mean? I’m honestly not sure, but I have a sinking feeling that there’s some serious shit going on in the Hyrule pantheon. Mortals have been mostly abandoned to their doom. Gods cast out and forgotten entirely. And somehow advanced civilizations keep forming and getting destroyed with only remnants left behind with zero explanation. Assuming the original gods are even alive at this point, which I’m not entirely certain of. Their death certainly explains how Demise/Ganon keeps getting stronger, looking less and less Hylian as time goes on, if he looks humanoid to begin with.

I wouldn’t even assume it’s entirely voluntary at this point either, as Ganon clearly doesn’t have the same motivations in every incarnation (see my previous post about Wind Waker). I’m rather excited about Breath of the Wild 2, as the implications of dehydrated husk Ganon is compelling. Particularly in light of the character development Link and Zelda have received in the first Breath of the Wild. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ganon/Demise turns out to be a fallen god trying to get back home (a nice parallel to Wind Waker, actually), cast out as a scape goat. Blamed for every form of corruption and greed that naturally follows in his wake. I think I said this before, but it is interesting that he is always reborn among the Gerudo, a race famously all females. Sometimes thieves, but nearly always in a position that would naturally crave power to take control of their lives compared to Hylians. Regardless of the consequences.

Is it true? I don’t know. Probably not, but the fact that I can draw these conclusions in three hours of writing is pretty neat. I have a lot of feelings about this franchise, having grown up with it, but I eagerly await what comes next. And I should probably go to bed. Make of all this what you will.

Cheap frat party beer

Pairing: Poppy x MC (Bea Hughes)

Warnings: Drinking, suggestive themes, language

Word count: About 1,500

Summary: Pining was never Poppy’s style. No matter how much she’s going against her gut feeling, she just might not regret going to this boring party.

Author’s note: I tried to fix as many grammar mistakes as I could, I am so sorry if you found a few. Thank you so much for the comments of support on my last post, this is my first official fic on here so I really hope everyone enjoys! 

Her name was Poppy Min-Sinclair. She needed no introduction, she knew it was pure luck and privilege that led her to the top of the Belvoir food chain. She had everything, from the perfect grades, the perfect ranking, the perfect wardrobe, the perfect boyfriend, she could go on.

But for some reason ever since that new girl stepped foot in her life, she was left wanting something more. Bea Hughes came along and took over her entire life in an instant. It frustrated Poppy to no end. How could a girl rise the ranks so quickly in mere days? How did she already gain the attention of the whole school?

More importantly, the question she was the most startled by was why she was so infatuated. She had never felt this helpless over someone since private school. It felt like every encounter was a ticking time bomb until she finally gave in and forgot about who she was. She could be absolutely anybody she wanted, yet she wanted nothing more than to be the Belvoire’s newest fascinations girlfriend.

Instead of paying attention in class, or actually paying attention to the daily mindless gossip, she found herself reliving memories made days prior. The intrigue when she first met her, the pure rage and what almost felt like fun when Bea pretty much threw her in the jello pool, and the embarrassment that was her take down.

“What, are you obsessed with me?”

Just thinking about that moment sent her butterflies in her stomach fluttering, she’s never felt that familiar warm sensation on her cheeks at least since elementary school.

Before she could finish her daydreams, to her disappointment they just had to be interrupted.

“Poppy? Poppy!!”

She rolled her eyes.

“What am I, a dog your trying to train? Stop yelling in my damn ear.” She sneered at her friend.

Chloe huffed. “Poppy, you need to go to this weekend’s party. The last one was like, so embarrassing for you-“

Poppy sent her a warning glare, she gulped in response.

“My point is you need to show up and try to embarrass her back.”

Though deep down, she felt a rush of excitement for what could possibly go down, silently regretting her relationship status, but she could never let her thoughts be known.

She gave her right hand woman a sly smile. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll give them a show.”

Over the weekend

“Oh, um, babe I didn’t expect to see you here after the last one.” He scratched the back of his neck, waiting for her response.

Poppy’s attention wasn’t on her boyfriend, but on the girl at the other side of the room. Bea took a moment to notice her, and gave her a sly smirk when she did. Poppy gave her a cold look over her shoulder to keep her facade of disgust up. After a tense moment, Carter nudged her shoulder.

“Babe?”

Poppy finally came up with a response after not paying attention to him, her eyes still glued on Bea’s.

“Well, I had to show somebody I’m not willing to give up my spot so easily. I have to show everyone at this party that I’m Poppy Min-Sinclair and not just ‘Bitch that was yeeted into jello’-“ Before she finished her rant, she tore her eyes away from Bea for a moment to glance at Carter. It was evident Bea hadn’t caught only her attention.

Time seemed to freeze as she felt a plan spin in her head. She was no stranger to orchestrating these evil ideas, otherwise she wouldn’t be ranked number one. She took in her surroundings; Carter’s wandering eyes, the cooler behind them that was filled to the brim with cheap canned beer, and the inviting stare from the girl across the room. She took a deep breath, no matter how many times she’s concocted these ideas, they didn’t make her feel anymore secure.

“Fuck it.” She reached behind her, opened the cooler, and chugged the bitter taste as fast as she could.

Thinking she was only trying to prove herself ‘cool’ Carter chuckled.

“Baby, I don’t mind leaving for a bit to get you something you’ll actually like from-“

“No, you listen here!” She jabbed a finger to his chest.

“I’m not going to be humiliated and stand around while you’re eye-fucking another girl. You’re as disposable as anybody else in this damn school, and I’m not!”

She knew she was no lightweight but nobody else knew that, not even Chloe. She caught Veronica live-streaming her whole ‘meltdown’. If everything backfired, she knew she could easily hide behind the classic too much beer excuse.

She played off most of the eyes watching her, as she swayed her hips over to the only pair of eyes she cared were watching. Perhaps to everyone else it looked like a cat fight about to go down, or a thinly veiled threat. But only Bea Hughes and her partner in crime Zoey Wade knew what she really whispered.

“Go upstairs, turn left, and walk ahead until you see the last dorm on the right. Leave five minutes after me.”

Before she walked away, she was sure to send a glare to Zoey.

“Alone.”

Poppy impatiently tapped her fingers on her lap wondering if it was all a mistake. She bit her lip, questioning herself and whether everything backfire until the door slammed open.

“Poppy I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing but-“

“Kiss me.” The words blurred out of her mouth without her even realizing it.

Bea’s mouth hung wide open in shock. “I… I’m sorry, excuse me, but what the fuck?”

“Do you want me to say please or what?”

Bea closed the door behind her, and took a few steps over. The room was almost completely dark, with the exception of the moonlight crawling in with the party lights. She felt Bea’s hands, that she noticed were bigger than hers, cup her face. She took in her deep dark eyes, the beautiful brown tone of her skin, and her inviting lips adorned in red lipstick. Bea drew back.

“Look your breath smells like alcohol, I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

She was turned her away, but Poppy grabbed her hands in protest.

“I may not look like it, but I swear I can handle plenty of drinks. Don’t walk away when I’m not even drunk.”

Bea met her eyes, and gave the woman in front of her with pure desperation in her eyes her signature sly smirk.

“Is Poppy Min-Sinclair, ranked number one in Belvoire, begging the small town girl to kiss her?”

Poppy swallowed any cocky remarks back, along with her pride. “She is. If you keep her waiting, she might just walk out.”

Poppy felt Bea’s warm hands on her face again, and her sultry whisper in her ear. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we…”

Bea nibbled her ear, making Poppy let out a soft moan. A sound neither of them knew she could make until that moment.

Their lips met after only a week of glaring, pettiness mixed met with almost immediate pining, and just all around sexual tension. Neither of them knew a sensation could be so intense with somebody they had only just known. They skipped the friends milestone, straight to enemies, to whatever they were now.

Bea’s hands wondered into her hair, Poppy’s hands roaming over Bea’s back. Her fingers trailing downwards, her heart beat’s pace quickened. She anticipated every moment next. Poppy felt Bea’s hands linger at the hem of her skirt, when they heard the knob turn. They pushed each other away, straightening her clothes. Poppy immediately dropped down and hid under the bed as the door opened.

“Hey, are you okay? You’ve been gone for a while and I wanted to be sure you didn’t need any backup.”

Bea sent a playful glance to Poppy, Poppy’s heart freezing. The rush of excitement overwhelming her, she didn’t know whether Bea would expose her right now or keep their secret act in the night a secret.

“Little miss Poppy Min-Sinclair never showed up. A shame really.”

Zoey laughed. “You really scared that girl into chickening out of talking to you.” Poppy glared at Bea, and Bea stifled a giggle.

“Anyways the guys downstairs want to play beer pong, you can go up a few ranks since Veronica’s live-streaming. You can’t miss it!”

Bea shot a sneaky look at Poppy, and looked back at Zoey.

“Ten minutes tops, ever since Poppy essentially ditched me here I’ve gotten a bit sleepy. When I’m done I’m going to sleep in here, I’m sure whoever this room belongs to won’t mind too much.”

“Sounds like a plan, ready to kick some ass Bea?”

They walked out of the eye sight for Poppy, and she heard them leave the room with one last piece of dialogue slipping out. Poppy’s heart sunk.

“Please don’t try to wake me up or anything, I have a feeling I’ll be in there for a few hours.”

Poppy slowly tiptoed to the door, closing it. She sighed and sat back on the bed. There was nothing for her to do for the next ten minutes but sit there and smell like cheap frat party beer.

Thank you for reading! Tagging: @lolimugly @origmansello @grapecaseschoices @mvalentine @greatestflirt-hero​ @otakufangirl-12 @sugarplumpnhoneybun @ognenniyvolk @somewillwin @coldbatfriendroad@that-one-choices-person @ariel-0318 @drethanramslay @queensayeed @kawaiibanditmoneytaco @rotten-teddy-bear @aguywiththreepairsofglasses @elijahmessenger @axiel90 @ritafarrr @erza-elcy-crimson @poshbiscuit @sarasansone98 @ghalind @that-one-choices-person @dervaux @generaldameronss @adrianadmirer @anonymous--anteater @everythingchoices

War of Wolves

Season 1 

Episode 2- You’ve Got A Deal

Bucky x Reader 

Summary: You have been on the streets for the past two years, ever since your accident that left you with the ability to tell if someone is lying. You work as an informant for the white wolf and his mob but you had never met him…until you overhear a phone call that leads you to saving his life. Now he wants you to work for him. Its an offer you couldn’t refuse…right?

Word Count: 2,562

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death? I think that’s it 

A/N: So I decided to carry on posting this series. Its one of favourites. Feedback, comments, and likes are very welcome! Taglist is OPEN for this series! 

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War of Wolves Masterlist   Series Masterlist   Oneshot Masterlist 

It was a three-hour car ride in silence. You were tense the entire time. You noticed Steve kept glancing at you in the rear-view mirror and you kept looking at Blake in the passenger seat when you knew he wasn’t looking. 

When you finally felt Steve slow the car down, you looked out the windows. Coming up into view was a mansion. It had acres of grass filled land, a path for cars in the middle. As the car rolled over the gravel, the mansion got bigger and bigger as you got closer. It was made of brilliant, white stone. There were balconies, fountains, statues, windows of all shapes and sizes. There just seemed to be too many things for your brain to focus on. 

Steve pulled up right outside the three stone steps to the main doors. He got out, followed by Blake and you watched Steve toss the keys at another man. You scramble out of the car and trail behind Steve and Blake. 

When you walked through, you think your brain stopped working altogether. The first thing you noticed were the elegantly large stairs that lead to the second floor. It was made of marble white which is the reason you noticed the second thing: the floors. They were black. Impossibly black, and shiny and smooth. 

The entire house was pristine, and you were suddenly conscious that you were a piece of trash. You didn’t have much time to admire the place as you followed the men through the house. You couldn’t remember the route you took, but it wasn’t long before you came to a closed set of doors. 

Steve knocked and then poked his head through them. You could hear mumbling until he walked in, Blake following and you trailing slowly behind. 

You had heard stories of the man in front of you. To you, he was almost like a legend. Enemies said his name with fear and friends said his name with reverence. When you looked at him, you understood why. He was sitting at a desk in black trousers and a black shirt, the first two buttons undone. The shirt was struggling to contain his muscles as you see them ripple under the fabric. His hair was shoulder length that seemed to catch on his stubble sometimes. But his eyes. It was his blue eyes that sent shivers down your spine. 

It was those eyes that were staring at you now. They made you want to flee but stuck you to the spot at the same time. He stared at you the entire time Steve spoke in hush tones close to Bucky’s ear. It was only when he broke eye contact that you noticed the woman behind Bucky’s chair, her hand trying to inch down his open shirt. 

Bucky’s gruff voice rang in the room, “everyone leave, except her”. Steve complied and so did Blake, but the woman whined. You could see the annoyance in Bucky’s face as his nostrils flare, “leave”, it was more of a growl that time. You watch her slowly take her hand off him, and slowly walk away, but not before she throws you a glare. 

When the door clicks shut, it sounds like a jail cell closing to your ears. Your heart is beating so fast that you’re afraid it’ll give out at any moment. Bucky studies you in the quiet for a few moments. When he speaks directly to you, your heart skips a beat, “what’s your name?”. 

You’re surprised when your voice doesn’t shake, even if it’s a little timid, “Y/N”. 

He clasps his hands together on the desk. The gesture draws your eyes to his metal hand…so the rumours were true. He leans forward on his desk, “well Y/N, bold of you to insist on my attention just for some information…it better be worth it”. 

When silence falls, he gestures for you to speak, “someone is going to kill you tomorrow. I also think they’re going to kill Steve and Sam, but I can’t be too sure”. You see his posture go rigid at what he must perceive to be a threat. You speak quickly, “I overheard a conversation. One of your men speaking to someone saying things like you would regret doing what you did to them. They told the person on the phone that you have a meeting with a new buyer tomorrow and that Steve and Sam will be going too. He told them that you have seven lower level men going with you and that when you’re taken out they can take over”. You take a deep breath after spilling all of that information. 

You find it hard to read Bucky as he’s stayed still the entire time. He gets up from his desk and makes his way over to you. You take a step back, but he shakes his head and you stop. He comes so close that he looks down at you, his voice low, “I find it hard to believe that you got all that information from one phone call”. His hand shoots out and grabs your chin, hard, but not hard enough to bruise. 

You feel his breath warm your face, “are you threatening me?”. 

You shake your head as much as you can in his grasp, not daring to speak. He studies you, “how do you know this man wasn’t joking? A lot of my men joke about taking me down, it’s not uncommon”.

You swore to yourself that you wouldn’t tell anyone about what you can do. But you were scared of what would happen if you didn’t. Bucky wouldn’t believe you and not only kill you but get himself killed in the process. 

He lets go of your chin and walks away, “so you don’t know for sure. This was a waste of my time-“. 

“I’m gifted, so yes, I can be sure”, it bursts out of you. Your heart making the decision before your brain can even think about it. 

He turns back to you, anger evident on his face, “now I know you’re lying-“. 

You rush to cut him off, “I’m not. I swear. I was in a car accident around two and a half years ago. I had a brain injury among other things and when I woke up I had this ability to be able to tell when someone was lying. There are limitations to it, but I’ve never been wrong. Tell me something, go on”.

You see him cock his head ever so slightly, curious now, “tell you what exactly?”. 

You hold his stare, “tell me something only you would know the answer to. You can tell me the truth about it or the lie and I’ll tell you”. 

You think you see a ghost of a smile on his full lips. He thinks this is a game, but that’s fine. If he plays, he’ll see you’re not joking. Turns to face you full now, “my favourite ice cream flavour is mint chocolate”. 

You don’t hesitate, “that’s a lie”. 

You still see his slight smile, “I’m wearing boxers under my pants”. 

You could feel the blush rising to your cheeks as you fight to keep your eyes on his, “that’s a lie”. 

The smile on his face grows, “my mother’s name is Sarah”. 

“Another lie”, you keep your expression serious. 

His smile falters for a split second, “that’s because my mother’s name was Alison”. 

You shake your head, “no, it wasn’t”. 

His smile fades now as he takes a step closer to you again, “you’re right. Her name was Winifred”. 

You give him a tiny smile, “yes it was. That’s a very lovely name”. 

His expression is unreadable. He’s staring at you so intently that you fear he’ll burn a whole through you. He nods his head once, “okay, you’ve convinced me enough to keep you here until I see if you’re right about tomorrow. If it is an ambush, I’ll be ready…do you remember who you saw on the phone?”. 

“Blake. He was on the phone this morning when he came to get information from me”. You watch him mull it over. 

His blue eyes meet yours, “okay. Well, keep it to yourself. Don’t tell anyone what we discussed today. Steve will take you to a spare room. You can wait there until tomorrow”. 

The room Steve showed you to was huge. It had a bed that seemed bigger than any you had seen before. There was a bathroom attached and a window that could look out the front of the house. 

As soon as Steve left you had a shower. Despite the situation, you always took advantage of a shower. You dressed back into your tattered jeans but took a plain black t-shirt from the closet. It was big on you, so you tucked it into your jeans. 

Time seemed to be going slowly. But it wasn’t long after your shower when you heard a knock on your door. When you went to open it, you saw a woman standing there with a cart full of food. She rolled it into the room and then left. 

There was so much food you didn’t know where to start first, but you ate like a savage. You were happy to know that no one could see, but you hadn’t eaten in a little while. You ate so much that your stomach hurt. You laid on the softest bed in your life and fell unconscious before your head hit the pillow. 

You get woken up the next day by car doors slamming outside. It takes you a couple seconds to realise where you are and what’s happening. You scramble from the bed to the window in time to see Bucky walk to the second car. He’s dressed in combat trousers and a black t-shirt that also struggles to contain his muscles and his metal arm glinting in the sun. 

You see the four cars leave the estate and your nerves come back, twisting horribly in your stomach. Too many things could happen. The best-case scenario is that you’re right and Bucky doesn’t die. Worst case scenario is that Bucky does die and so does Steve and Sam. 

Your brain was working over time the entire day. You barely ate anything and couldn’t focus on much. You spent most of the day pacing the room. 

The sun was starting to set when you heard tires on gravel. You rush over to the window and watch. Just because the cars came back didn’t mean Bucky was alive. Your heart had stopped beating in the moments of the car stopping and the car door opening. But when you saw him step from the car your body seemed to sigh. 

But your ever-racing mind couldn’t seem to stop. You were wondering if he believed you or not. You still don’t know what happened at this meeting and if it looked like you had lied then it wasn’t going to be a pretty ending for you. 

From the moment you saw Bucky walk into the house you stared at the clock. It was an hour before you heard a knock on your door. You were surprised when he didn’t just walk in and you had to say, “come in”. 

You were sitting on the end of the bed when he opened the door. He stepped in and closed the door, so you had time to study him. He was wearing the same thing as this morning, and he seemed unharmed. You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

He sits next to you and you stare at his thigh inches from yours. The tension in the room made you feel sick, as you played with your hands. 

Bucky’s rough voice seems quiet in the dying light of the room, “you were right”. 

You squeeze your hands in relief but react in no other way. You wait for him to speak again, “there were no casualties on my side, but there would have been if I hadn’t have known. It’s very possible that I would be dead now”. 

You both seem lost in what that would have meant. His voice is just above a whisper when he speaks next, “thank you. For telling me. But I must admit that I’m having some trouble with all this and surprisingly its not your gift…why? Why did you insist on coming here to save a man you’ve never even met?”. 

That’s when he looks at you, his blue eyes somehow brighter in the darkening room. You take a few moments to think about the reason. Because he is right. It doesn’t seem to make sense that you would do this. 

You take a deep breath, his eyes taking you in, “The money you give for homeless informants is the only reason I’ve been able to eat over the last two years. If I wasn’t getting it, I would have died a long time ago so perhaps I felt like I owed you or perhaps if you died I wouldn’t get that money anymore. I would like to tell you that’s the reason, because it makes more sense, but…I’ve heard the stories about you Mr Barnes. The White Wolf. I know which ones have been true and which ones haven’t been and from what I can gather, despite your profession and the things you’ve done in that profession, you seem a decent man that sticks to his principles. A man that puts family and loyalty above everything else. There’s not many men like you out there and to know a man like that would be snuffed out when I could have stopped it? I guess I feel a weird loyalty to you because of the last two years”. 

You see him think over your words. The minutes stretch out until he clears his throat, “for what you did today, I have a debt to pay and a job to offer”. 

Your eyebrows raise at his words. He half smiles at your reaction before explaining, “your gift would be of great use to me and I would love to use it in my line of work and in exchange you would live here. I would provide whatever you wanted, within reason. You would have regular meals and a much better life than the streets. You are free to refuse of course”. 

You nod as you think over his words, “it’s a great offer and it does sound nicer than the streets, but wouldn’t it be dangerous?”. 

He studies your face as he speaks, “well if you accept my offer I would discuss the logistics of keeping you safe in the morning. Of course, being in my mob at a higher level is more dangerous, but it also comes with more protection, including my own”. 

You think over his words in silence. He waits patiently. Of course, it’s a great offer. To live like this every day is something you never even dared to dream about on the streets. But the danger, was it worth it? 

You look him in the eye, your voice steady, “okay. You got yourself a deal White Wolf”. 

You see him half smile. He lingers longer than necessary, but he eventually makes his way to the door. Before he leaves he turns and adds, “Bucky is fine”. The door clicks softly behind him. 

War of Wolves Taglist: @a-really-bi-girl @scuzmunkie @viperslunatic @loving-life-my-way  @crazyblonde124  @summerwelsh (this taglist is partly what was said a while ago, if you don’t want to be on it just shoot me a message!). 

Yandere googlepliers x chubby reader

An:I went really experimental with formatting, because I was really inspired by Winter girls by Laurie Halse Anderson, the author of speak. Anyway, this is a repost because tumblr ate up the original post. I plan to post fan fics more often now that I have a laptop, so if you like my writing, requests are open! :D

Chaos. So much burning.

Smoldering, smoky buildings, streets covered in bloody corpses. A woman's head twisted at an odd angle, her eyes ice cubes as they stared at you, her mouth opened into a frozen scream.

Walking down the road, you shuddered, holding yourself, almost as if trying not to fall apart.

Your foot steps echoed, bouncing off alleyways and jagged skyscrapers, whose metal interiors now exposed, reminded you of broken bones. Blood littered the streets like bright red watercolor, while organs, scattered like rose petals and party streamers, lay exposed on grey sidewalks and hung from lamp posts.

Gagging, your breathing grew heavier as you turned a corner, seeing a baby's head hanging  by its spinal cord like a twisted piñata from a store front, it's eyeball clinging onto a pink string as it dangled from its eye socket. Oh.. oh.. oh god.

No, no, your boys— couldn't.. couldn't do this! You ran past the store, and ran past an apartment building. You ran past an alleyway, a library, caught in the maze. Trapped like a rat. Turning left and right frantically.

They couldn't do this. They couldn't do this.

They changed, they changed.

You kept passing dead bodies. The smell of burning metal and flesh haunted the air. The streets covered in a blanket of broken glass, and the buildings that remained intact almost had all broken windows and doors. Cars had been turned upside down and squashed like a wads of construction paper.

Everything silent. Except for the eerie and distant noise of sirens, echoing throughout the city. You didn't notice at first. Too caught up in the violence. Now, you heard them, and ran towards them.

Your boys couldn't do this.

The boys who loved blue and green and red and yellow. Whose colors always reminded you of wildflowers.

They couldn't.

Prime, who you loved with all your heart couldn't do this. Oliver, who you loved with all your heart couldn't do this. Rowan, who you loved with all your heart couldn't do this. Conan, who you loved with all your heart couldn't do this.

Running, you turned a corner, getting closer to the noise.

Where was everybody? Could they really murder an entire population? They couldn't— could they?

Desperate, you pushed yourself faster. You passed a man with his chest gouged out. Someone had their hands torn off and stuck up their— you wished you hadn't seen that. A girl lay crumpled on the side walk, her pigtails pulled off, and her face smashed in.

Too many bodies to count. All of them, chopped up like vegetables, and torn up like dolls in the jaws of a dog. So much violence. So much destruction.

The sirens screamed for you to keep running. Why did you stop, they asked. You hadn't even noticed you stopped, until you heard your breathing, and felt you legs shaking like plates stacked too high, your whole body ready to break.

You stopped right in front of the little girl, staring at her carnage.

   You caused this.

You gave them admin permission, or whatever it was called— you gave them autonomy! And they waited, they waited and bid time and gained your trust, waited till you loved them, till you let your guard down. Then, like a viper, they bit.

Sinking to your knees, the sirens faded as your breathing increased, filling your ears.

You touched the body, it was stiff, cold. The skin was an odd color, and maggots crawled in every crevice— in her nose, where they twisted, a hive feasting on her flesh. How long had she been here? How long had they all been here? You looked around, and touched her again, squeezing her arm. It wouldn't move. Rigor mortis. Then, you went down, and squeezed her leg. The whole body stiff. Every inch.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized— these bodies had been here for around six hours. Yes, you remembered, rigor completely set in after six hours.. why did you know that? Some class from high school? A book? A documentary?

Panic set in more as you got up, and staggered towards the noise.

    They couldn't do this.

Prime, who loved technology and loved to study space, couldn't do this. Oliver, who loved to study psychology and how humans worked couldn't do this. Rowan, who read so many books, going through them in hours, couldn't do this. Conan, who loved to study biology and evolution couldn't do this.

Your boys, your loves, couldn't do this.

 They couldn't.          They couldn't.                         They couldn't.

                               They couldn't.

Your shoulders shook as you entered the center of town, full of cafés, bookshops, tea shops, and cute ritzy restaurants all covered in dried blood. People lay dead on chairs, and some held books, others held shopping bags, or cell phones.. all of them stopped. Frozen in time. Like a clock who's gears got stopped up with ice.

The sirens loomed closer, and, taking another glance at the bodies, you continued walking. You passed a green and white bookstore, you took a turn down a street, full of bodies, bodies stuffed together like sardines. So much blood. Blood the color of rust and bricks. It scattered everywhere. Everywhere, every street sign and store front. No one was spared.

You continued further, legs shaking, throat dry.

The sirens screamed louder. Bursting like red and blue fireworks in your ears.

You saw the police cars, white covered in scarlet, in dead bodies.

So many.

Heads twisted, noses punched in, stomachs full of holes.

You couldn't call out their names, you couldn't. They scared you too much. Each name a monster, shadows that cut.

        Your boys couldn't have done this.

Shakily, walking closer to the carnage, you leaned on a police car, panicking. Your heart pounded in your chest as you walked slowly. Corpses bleeding into your eyes as you heard the buzzing of flies.

You screamed.

You collapsed.

More bodies.

Corpses piled up in a heap, you saw your boys, dragging the corpses, like stiff statues, across the pavement.

They turned towards you, eyes wide as they dropped bodies. "Darling?" Asked Oliver, yellow as a sunflower, and soft as one as he stepped towards you.

Your hands wouldn't stop. Your arms wouldn't stop. Everything kept shaking. Your whole body felt like an avalanche. Like it was tumbling and full of rocks and snow.

"Oh, sweetheart.." Whispered Rowan, red like a rose, "You weren't supposed to see. I made sure to put enough pills in your drink."

You   couldn't    breathe. Breaths. came in short. gasps.     Air barely leaked.                   In— Lungs—     couldn't.

Collect air.

Everything.                Heavy. Lungs full of frozen snow,            heavy with grey rocks, frozen over with icicles.           Blood invaded by ice crystals.  Heart covered with frost.     Paralyzed.

They approached you, surrounding you. Oliver leaned down, blood covering his hands as you started to cry, howling. "Oh, oh, shh, shh, it's alright." He wrapped his arms around your waist, comforting you like a kitten.

The boys did the same, Conan, green like spring, began petting your hair gently, while Prime, blue as the sea, kissed your cheek. Rowan, hugged you from behind, and the two other brothers hugged you from the sides. All of them warm.

"It's alright.. it's alright— they're all gone now, little one, and can't hurt you." His warm voice l crawled into your ears. You said nothing, your stomach curling into a twisted iron knot.

Tears poured down like rain in the middle of a blizzard. You couldn't control the sobs and screams. You smelt the blood on them, hot copper. Your heart beat ferociously in your chest, shuddering from the cold that invaded your body.

Oliver lifted your chin, tears streaming down your face, "It's okay. It's alright. All you need is us."

The others echoed back, "All you need is us."

Your heart clenched.

The bright flickering lights of memories came.

Blue burst in your mind.

You and Prime watching a space documentary, his eyes widening as the camera zoomed across the solar system— like an arm, reaching, reaching, reaching towards space. The lens retracted, going further and further away. The milky way bloomed before your eyes, the galaxy blossomed into Christmas lights and swirls, everything expanded. Stopped. Then, in a flash, a dash, the colors swirled into lines, zooming back to earth.

Blue faded into red.

Rowan shyly smelling roses when he thought you weren't looking, sitting at the table and fingering the scarlet fish scales of velvet petals. His smile like a rose, too, slowly blooming underneath the sunset that sailed through the window. His skin shining with tangerine and goldfish rays, you remembered him smelling like roses, and the next day, you planted a rose bush in your backyard.

Red ran into yellow.

Oliver smiling at you, in the afternoon. His hand reaching towards yours, his fingers warm, comforting. His hand so much bigger than yours; yours covered in lines and scars, his clean and pristine, like a piece of computer paper. Your lips saying how do you do as you kissed his fingers, and his smile like a ball of sunshine, as his lips replied I'm doing wonderful, by touching yours. He tasted like lemonade. You kissed underneath the swing set that hung from the grand oak in your backyard.

Yellow flipped into green.

Conan letting your head rest on his shoulder. A biology book in his lap, it was about— sloths. Those fuzzy three toed creatures. You remember saying, "Did you know sloths.. used to live under water?" He turned towards you, his eyes like the woods, stacked with trees and leaves, deep and dark, untrusting and full of secret wonders. He blinked in surprise, his eyes wide and lips turned down slightly. "Don't act like a know it all. That's not true." You frowned, and told him to look it up, he did. You were right. You smirked, you knew a lot. Just as you were about to continue, he asked what else you knew. The two of you talked about biology the rest of the night and evolution until morning. Plants and animals blooming into the living room as the sun rose.

All the colors dropped down your mind, and splashed down into a single memory—

All of you in the new bed you bought, surrounded by comfy pillows. You heard them humming. The sound of their insides working. Everything warm. Safe. You nuzzled into Prime's neck, since he's always the warmest because he's the oldest and tends to get hotter than the others. Everything felt safe. Perfect, covered in the moonlight. Hazy snores came from Conan, who always snores, because he sleeps with his mouth open. Rowan's breath on your neck, a soft nuzzle into your cheek, Oliver resting on his brother's chest, holding your hand.

You realized that night that love isn't one color, it's a burst of colors— Blue and Red and Green and Yellow. It's the color of wild sunflowers and a kitchen filled with cups from the 70s, it's the music of soft breathing and the feeling of your cheek warmed by another, it's a quivering river full of enchanted hues.

The memory slipped down, became a drop of multicolored paint, and splashed on the white floor of your mind.

So many memories— too many memories.

Your eyes watered again as you looked up at them.

"Wh-why?" You whispered. "You don't need to worry about that." A blue voice said, robotic and stiff. "It is— well, was our primary objective." "But— But— I thought, I thought maybe.. maybe you didn't care about that anymore..." you whispered, your shoulders sagging as you burrowed back into Oliver's chest, closing your eyes, "...Maybe you wouldn't care about destroying humanity because you didn't need to. You had me— wasn't that enough? Just the all of us? Together? What— what did everyone else matter?" You asked, taking a shaky breath, "And now what? What? Your Primary objective is complete and you probably don't need me anymore, because wasn't your primary objective to destroy all of humanity? Don't I count? I don't understand at all. I don't know..." your voice faded, "..I don't know— I don't. I— I don't know. I just— why? Why did it have to be so much violence? Why? Why did you have to hurt all those people? What did they do?"

You wanted to melt into the earth and never come back. You could smell the scent of rotting flesh, and the smell of it as it burned in the big pile, smoke starting to fill the sky. "We would never hurt you." Your questions didn't get an answer, as Rowan spoke, "We love you— you taught us to love." He whispered, "And, we had to protect you from.. from.. them." He spat, voice filled sharp red knives. "They were nothing like you. All they did was take up space." Said Conan, his voice seething acid, "All they did was hurt you. Why shouldn't they feel the same pain they caused you?" "N-not everybody hurt me.." you whispered, voice as soft and fragile as melting snow. "Knowing humans, they would have. Look what they already did to you— all those mean words and comments, isn't it better that they're gone? Now," he gripped your chin, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he turned you towards him, "It's just us."

They echoed back, voices a mixture of color, "Just us."

Colors plopped and sizzled in your mind, like an egg dropped into a hot skillet. Your own color lost somewhere— what color were you, anyway? Red or Blue or Green or Yellow or Purple or Nothing? White? Blank? Your memories have always been covered in white, and tasted like cigarette smoke and the smell of old rotting houses.

Then, they came, all of them, bringing color. Bringing so much color— But could they bring color to the outline of a memory that crossed your mind?

No.

A blank wall, Curtains drawn. The music turned up. Books scattered left and right. Everywhere. A tornado hit your room, and the tornado was you. You, you caused distraction everywhere you went. Blobs of paint pounded at the door of the blank canvas of your room, asking what was wrong. All you did, was rip. Rip the pages of the books, become an outline. You had always been an outline, You just— Forgot. Outline kept ripping up pages of books, saying how stupid outline was. Outline knew outline was stupid. Stupid outline, everyone was right. No one would want to hire outline. Outline got a job, outline got comments about weight, outline snitched.

Outline got fired.

Outline forgot they had been lines, and only lines, all along.

Outline forgot what white was, became filled with cyan skies, poppies, sunshine and grass. Outline got filled with yellow courage and red passion and blue happiness and green kindness.

They want you. The memory changed shape. They want you. Or, at least, that's what they said, when you cried.  Sobbing, curled up on the floor, they told you they wanted you. They told you  everything was going to be alright.

One of them had picked you up, taken you to the couch, while the others offered to make you cookies, or tea, or anything you wanted. Sniffing as someone wrapped you up in a blanket, you asked softly for hot cocoa, with cinnamon.

A flash of red gave you a cup, the color of a robin's egg, filled with hot cocoa. He sat next to you, and somehow, you ended up in Prime's lap, sniffing. "I'm so bad." You said. "Why?" "I should've just kept my mouth shut.Everyone likes me better that way."

Then, you felt hands, the hands of your mind stretching down, clear as crystal, distorting the world as they ascended upon your mouth. "Well, I like it better when you talk." It was Conan, standing in front of you, hands on his hips, "And unlike other humans, you aren't annoying." You laughed a bit, sniffed again, and took a sip of the hot cocoa. The hands shattered just as quickly as they came.

The air rippled and chirped, purring with happiness and warmth as you snuggled further into the fluffy blanket. "Yeah.." whispered Rowan, "And unlike other humans, I quite like your voice." Another smile from you, Conan sat down next to Prime, and immediately snatched you into his lap.

Prime turned, "Excuse you?" You laughed again, a tinkle of golden bells, and he let it go. Snuggling into his chest, you smelt his shirt, which smelled like books. Mostly the new book smell, but it also smelled of chemicals, and preservatives, because of the experiments he often conducted. It also smelled a bit metallic, yet human. They all had that in between smell of metal and.. natural musk? It was often how you recognized them, by how they smelled, and their heights too.

Everyone snuggled on the couch, and you felt yourself getting sleepy as you kept drinking. You noticed the humming increasing, the whirring of fans filling your ears like a lullaby as you slept.

"..We care so much. That's why I put that pill in your drink. It's part of the plan— you weren't supposed to wake up." Rowan's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, "We—" "—We weren't originally going to do it." Whispered Oliver, "Because we didn't care anymore." "Until they hurt you." Hissed Conan, "And nobody hurts you. Nobody. We got rid of them. It's only us now. Only us."

Their voices echoed slightly as they repeated, "Only us."

You looked into Conan's eyes, then Oliver's, then Rowan's, then Prime's.

    They loved you.

    They all realized it when you got sick. Oliver realized it when he found you over the toilet, a hand on your sweaty forehead as you retched, gagging and pushing your hair aside.

Rowan realized it when he saw you in bed, with a fever, when he got so afraid you'd die, and held your hand, crying.

Conan realized it when you tried to stumble out of bed, saying you had to work on a research paper, because that's how the bills got paid.

Prime realized it when he felt relief after you got better, when he saw you slowly walk into the kitchen, sit down at the table, and eat a bowl of cereal. You hadn't eaten in three days.

From you, they learned about love. It tamed people, it tamed animals, it made things stay, even if it was just for a moment. Love, is like a dandelion, it grows and then contracts, then spreads into the wind, growing more. Love, is like the moon, waxing and waning, always coming back. Love, is like the sun, like warmth, it always comes back, but it blooms in a different color than before, and dies only to rise again.

You taught them that.

A human, small and weak, who spent too much time in doors reading books— any books, but they could be picky sometimes— tamed them, made them ask if the world was really all choked up with smoke.

They found out it was. That the world is always on fire, always combusting, it never rests and let's itself regrow again.

You, you're the small island surrounded by a pond in the middle of the burning woods. Always treating them with kindness, saying "please" and "thank you" and "I'm sorry" constantly. You always asked if they want to spend time with you, and of course they do— always, always and forever.

When they saw you yesterday night, so sad and broken, Prime picked you up, and immediately the others put the plan into action.

They had incorporated you into doomsday, deciding that your house was the safest, since it was far from town. (You walked all the way here, poor thing, they thought.) When you fell asleep, they tucked you into bed, turned off the lights and locked the advanced security system. You beat it anyway. (Did you worry about them? That was so like you— always worrying.)

Prime rested his head on top of yours, and then got up. His brothers frowned, their arms still reaching for you.

They all wanted to hold you, to keep you close.

Slowly, you reached out for Rowan, since Prime wasn't carrying you right. You smiled, forgetting it all for a moment.

The air wasn't filled with smoke. It didn't smell of burning hair.

Only they mattered, Their colors, their eyes, their smell. Only they mattered.

He gently took you from his brother, and cradled you. You could see the blood. You could smell it.

You buried yourself into his neck, wrapping your arms around him, smelling roses. He always smelt like roses, because he built a green house once summer started to end. Rose petals always lingered in his hair, pink, red and white, scattered amongst the locks. He grew all kinds of roses now, he loved them dearly.

You loved him dearly— all of them. That's why everything kept coming and going, bursts of color fading into ice, starting to burn and decay.

You burrowed deeper into his neck as he walked down the road. Tears fell out of your eyes, as you heard the sirens die out. "It's alright now.." he whispered, hugging you close, "It's alright. We'll be out soon." He murmured, kissing your cheek.

The city echoed with their foot steps and your sobs.

Another kiss landed on your cheek, and another and another.

Looking up at him, you noticed that everyone stopped, surrounding the both of you. A tear leaked from your eye, and quickly it was kissed away by Prime.

At the edge of the city, you looked at all the bodies— all those people gone, just like that. Did they really do that, all for you?

Should you be proud? Should you be ashamed?

Whirlwinds swirled in your stomach as you looked at your boys. Your lovers.

Yours.

You needed them just as much as they needed you, or, you wanted them just as much as they wanted you— or, both. Biting your lip, you felt another kiss on your cheek, Oliver.

Then, another one on your other cheek, Conan. Then, one on your lips, as Rowan kissed you.

You didn't need the world. All you needed was them.

Smiling, you wrapped your arms around his neck again, and burrowed into his warm skin, closing your eyes, putting a shutter over the images that flashed through your mind—

A bloodied hand, An old grandmother with a stab wound— The piles of bodies The blood. The blood.

You buried yourself deeper into his neck, trying not to cry. Rowan felt so comforting, and warm, he felt so safe, like a blanket wrapped around you when least expected, that comforted you even though you shivered.

Rowan smiled and kissed your head as he walked down the road, as Prime watched you from the corner of his eye, and listened to the world around them. Conan scanned the nearby woods, shooting at whatever animals came in his (or your) direction. Oliver walked next to Rowan, with Conan by his side, watching you.

They didn't need anyone else. Didn't you know what they were before you?

Outlines, white spaces, no color, ready to serve their objectives, but you— you.. brought out something, in each.

They didn't need the other colors, they only needed you, you and your bright cherry, blueberry, green apple and banana colored personality, that glittered and gurgled through the ocean of darkness.

You're the most important objective of all, didn't you know that, little human?

All they need is you. Only you, nothing else.

The world could burn, for all they cared, and it did— they burned it, all for you. All for you.

They continued walking as the world descended into night, like a bird falling through the air, and shedding feathers, only to reveal new ones made of violet petals and the noise of crickets.

Didn't you know, little human, thought Oliver, that once you started loving them with all of your human heart, that you bound yourself to them forever?

No, no you didn't.

Oliver reached over suddenly, and took you from his brother's arms, carrying you instead as they continued walking, the world awfully silent— full of no one, not a single human in existence—

Except you, of course.

The world is safe, now that every human is dead, it took a while to do it, but they did. The pill lasted for three days, and that's what all it took for them to kill all the humans. They started outside, and slowly went in, reaching your town last. And now, now you're safe, safe from all the hardships and stabbing words. Safe, safe at last.

Oliver felt you nuzzle into his shoulder and sigh contently, falling asleep.

He fell in love with you because of kindness, you're always so kind. Always. He knew his brothers fell for it too. He remembered when you came home, crying, and locked yourself up in your room, barely talking through the door. Prime ended up picking the lock, picking you up, and dragging you to the living room. Rowan drugged your hot coca, and they all cuddled you until you fell asleep.

That's when they knew, what they had to do.

Because forever and always, you will be theirs...their precious human.. forever.

Hi Delaney!

Ah, yes the quarantine. It’s getting to me. Definitely. Suddenly I have no office to go to. But it’s good, I think. Make the CEO realize the upper management has no literal reasons to keep us in the office. Like at all. Seriously, everyone from my team is working from home and the level of productivity is actually better. Because guess what? Not having people breathing down our necks is SUPER helpful. So HA!

Okay, about Larry Stylinson. You’re right, I did fall into YouTube Blackhole. And Twitter. And I just watched 1D San Siro concert. By watching, I mean I actually paused the work I’m doing and looked at the screen while it played. Admittedly I was also doing chores but! It wasn’t just background music! It counted!

When I said I could put Larry Stylinson in a microwave and be done with it, I mean the theories and compilation videos are so readily available and easy to digest like, comparable to instant meals.

It’s so neatly packaged, too. Like, I was introduced to Larry Stylinson basically yesterday. Now I could recite the storyline in my head whenever I please. Or when I want to please you, in this case.

Let’s see if I can get it all summarized down here. FYI, I’m borrowing your assumption that Taylor was in on it the whole time. And Eleanor, too. Because I actually know of her existence now! Character discovery! Except they’re real people so I feel the need to point out that I’m making all the assumptions all over the place. I’m doing this for you, my dear Delaney.

Keep in mind that we all need character growths and personal developments when I make non-flattering assumptions toward your favorite people here, ok?

First up! HS & TL met in a toilet.

Now it’s debatable whether it was during an X-Factor audition or Battle of the Bands. For the sake’s of my next argument, I’m going with they knew each other before X-Factor. Likely during their time in White Eskimo and The Rogue, respectively. Their (unconfirmed?) first words to each other were ‘Oops!’ & ‘Hi’

Up next, the X-Factor audition and getting put together in a band.

So here is where I kind of needed my first assumption for this to work. Their chemistry was so obviously through the roof. It made so much sense if they were already sort-of friends and then got put together in a band. Plus, I don’t think the way Louis jumped into Harry’s arms is something a relative stranger would do. And if they only knew each other out of everyone there, it’s no wonder they were both so apparently clingy and codependent. It’s like a situation where both of them went ‘I have no idea what’s gonna happen next, but at least I know you and you know me. So we’re bestie now. No take back!”

And then there’re video diaries, twitter cams, radio interviews, and other broadcasting media they appeared in. These need no explanation because you’ve probably seen all of them and I have functioning ears and eyes. So, yes, I saw videos of them being all disgustingly cute all over the place. During the so-called ‘Fetus’ phase (a wording which I personally find rather disturbing, no offense to your anatomy textbooks or anything.) They’re so sweet. Especially whenever there’s a mention of how they moved in and lived together. Their interactions must’ve been responsible for so many tooth cavities. So many aww-worthy moments. On stage, on screen, behind the scenes, potato cams. Basically everywhere in front of everyone.

Then 1D blew up and were well on their way to become their label’s biggest and brightest BCG-metrix star. It’s not hard to see why investors’d be invested (lol) in employing every marketing strategy possible to keep 1D in the spotlight.

There’s a twofold marketing exploitation to Larry Stylinson that I see from miles away.

Hard sell the heteronormative version of the boys. (To capture major market shares)

Never had Harry or Louis explicitly confirm nor deny their relationship status. (To capture additional market shares with queerbaiting)

But let’s say Harry and Louis were actually together and making 1) too difficult to achieve. Otherwise this whole thing falls apart like a wet house of cards.

Thus, here came what I’d like to call ‘dousing a fire with gasoline’. This is where there’s a sudden drop of their interactions in public and Larry Stylinson isn’t a cutesy smashup name of two boys who got along like a house on fire anymore. This is the part where a ship turned into a full fledged conspiracy theory. And it’s MEGA COOL WICKED awesome.

I say this in the nicest way possible. A tragedy is the grandest form of entertainments. Misery loves having friends.

Also, I’d like to say this. I’m having fun thinking of this as a fictional arc. Because I still feel like it will shatter my heart in to a million pieces if anything resembling what I write next was true.

Since breaking into US market was the Kickstarter into a global one, to the US 1D went.

This was where the heavy closeting got way more difficult to handle. Elounor had the excuse of Eleanor being a private citizen and therefore should be left alone for the most part. Haylor was the complete opposite. Taylor Swift was and still is an American Sweetheart. Harry Styles might have been the most famous British Harry if it weren’t for a (former?) prince and a wizard. (Seriously, we should not call any of our hypothetical future children ‘Harry’ unless you thought ‘Albus Severus Potter’ was a good idea. Poor kiddo.)

The saddest part about Harry Styles public image was how reminiscent of Emma Watson it felt. The minute they turned eighteen, their media portrayals immediately became hyper-sexualized. Suddenly, they left the human zoo into an open hunting game. Famous lives are terrifying.

Anyhow, say, Taylor Swift knew what the US music industry was like. She’s been playing the long game for quite some time. She got to know Harry and then became rather protective of him. Her conclusion was that ‘hyping up Haylor’ would: 1) increase media exposure for both Taylor and 1D which would translate to bigger channels of revenue for all involved, 2) hold the speculation about Harry’s sexual orientation at bay because, as horrible as it sounds, gays don’t sell in America.

This one fit nicely with your ‘Out of the Woods’ interpretation. Taylor wasn’t just spending time with Harry. She was actively enforcing the lock on the closet. Which explains why Louis seemed to resent Taylor quite obviously and quite a lot. His own heteronormative scripts with Eleanor had been relatively tame. Harry’s whirlwind series of romances in public had only just begun.

As Harry started gaining a womanizer reputation in earnest, so did the Almost-Subtle Couple Tattoo Sprees.

If ‘Always in my heart @Harry_Styles . Yours sincerely, Louis’ tweet was a sign that circumstances were about to go south for them. The tattoos were signs that the circumstances had already gone to shit. The tragic package had been shipped, signed, and delivered.

This is where non-flattering assumptions rise to the surface. I think 1D had been overworked past the point of exhaustion. Self-destruction as a coping mechanism became rather prevalent and pervasive within the band. The boys gleefully collected regrets as a new favorite pastime, some more than others. Consequences were nipping at their heels.

Then Zayn left right in the middle of a world tour and all hell broke loose.

Here comes the biggest Assumption Affair!

Louis and Liam, the last to release their solo debut albums, were the most prominent songwriters for the band. I’m not going to go on about Liam because I’m here to give you Larry Stylinson. And this is already way too long as it is. But, needless to say, the first discussion of a prospective solo career probably hit them the hardest.

If each song they wrote was a battle scar, Louis was still bleeding for the band when Harry, of all people, brought up the idea of a hiatus and solo careers. Realizing how many songs Harry already had waiting in the back catalogue must’ve felt like a slap in the face. Or a punch in the gut. Whichever you think is worse/more dramatic. I’m not picky.

Remember self-destruction as coping mechanism? What about relationship-destruction as coping mechanism? Louis cheated and had a baby with someone else. Infidelity at its finest.

ALERT! THIS IS A NEON SIGN OF ASSUMPTION AFFAIR! Please don’t kill me. I told you I was gonna make unflattering assumptions toward your favorite people. I just did as I promised!!! *run for cover*

Anyway...

I’m gonna take you back a little. I mentioned earlier how Eleanor was a private citizen and therefore should be left alone. At times when Louis desperately needed to be left alone, Elounor makes so much sense. If she’s a PR-only girlfriend, she’s a stellar employee. If it’s not just a PR thing, she’s as forgiving as a saint. Just, if it’s Harry and Louis, they likely both messed up and hurt each other badly. If it’s Louis and Eleanor,... I mean... Have you seen a meme where you misspell a word so badly that the autocorrect goes, ‘I don’t know what to tell you, man’?... Louis would be that misspelled word and Eleanor would be the very best autocorrect that practically brute force through every word in the Oxford AND Urban dictionary to find out what that word was. If that’s who she is, then bless her soul. However, for the sake of this argument, we will proceed with the assumption that she’s the star employee of the decade.

Losing loved ones and grieving for them are inevitable parts of human lives. Nothing put more things into perspectives than losing someone so fundamentally dear to you. When I heard Louis Tomlinson’s ‘Two of Us’ for the first time, I remembered walking through an actual forest my grandpa planted for us because he wanted to make sure his great grandkids would have a nice home to grow up in. Do you remember when you called and told me that he died the night I got on my first solo international flight ten months after the fact? I wanted to hate you for keeping something this big a secret from me. I wanted to hate everybody at home for that. But then you told me that it was what my grandpa had wanted. That he didn’t want me to be a sad sack of an exchange student. That you decided to not listen to my parents and call to tell me just before I was due home. So that I’d have time to feel hurt about being lied to. So that I could get all the angry words out. So that I wouldn’t scream at my parents when I got home and learnt the truth. So that you could take the brunt of my grief instead.

I just took a break to have a little cry. Where was I? Oh, yeah. You did the best you could for me when I lost my grandpa. I still managed to effectively shut you out for months. Just because you were the messenger of the bad news. What I’m trying to say is that grief changes people. It changed me. For the worst for a bit. And then for the better once I came to term with what it means to me. There’s a quote from Rosamund Lupton that sums it up neatly.

“Grief is love turned into an eternal missing.”

I guess this is the part where I connected the dots back to Harry and Louis. Well, their music definitely give grief different names. Both albums talk about coming to term with it and moving forward. Every songs they wrote could be woven to fit the narrative of Larry Stylinson and events surrounding them. If you buy the theory, then the good news is both Fine Line & Walls seemed to have a positive ending. One thing I know for sure, though, is that no matter how convincing a conspiracy theory maybe, it could all be built upon a faulty assumption. I’d probably have a way easier time disregarding Elouner if I didn’t have you as a solid proof in my life that, yes, people like the best autocorrect exists. It’s funny how I feel no hesitation at all in categorizing Haylor as a calculated move. Because in my head that’s just par for the course in business. And it genuinely terrifies me in a way. Who the hell I could’ve become if it weren’t for you knocking me off the ground and pouring kindness on me.

I know I skipped a lot of stuff. Missing names like Caroline, Danielle, Kendall, Freddie, Camille, Xander, etc. But HS and LT have a decade of history on public record and, frankly, my interest ran out four paragraphs ago. So just let me conclude this.

I think it’s tiring, spending this much time speculating on someone else’s relationship history. I must admit that I had to get it out of my chest because it was way too interesting to let go off. But now, I feel like I’m just going to stream Heartbreak Weather and listen to ‘No Judgement’ on repeat. Nile is my favorite non-problematic celebrity. I could spell his name so wrong and it probably won’t be an issue as long as I politely say, “Sorry, Mr Niall Horan”

This quarantine clearly leaves me with too much time on my hands.

Virtual hugs and kisses

Your Incredible Sasha 😘

Chapter 9 - Extraditable Tits!

Catalina did not know it, because in her house television was destined for novels and they never watched the evening news, but in one of them and with a scoop quality, the United States Ambassador to Colombia appeared announcing that the DEA, In coordination with the Colombian state security agencies, a rigorous investigation had just completed that resulted in the names of the new drug lords responsible for shipping more than 200 tons of cocaine a year to the United States and Europe.    Among them were Morón, Cardona and "El Titi", in that order of importance.    The next day the newspapers headed their front pages with the names of Pablo Escobar's successors, the Rodríguez Orejuela, Carlos Ledher, Santacruz Londoño, the Ochoa and Gonzalo Rodríguez Gacha, emphasizing that these new bosses belonged to a more intelligent generation, in the sense of not showing off too much, more elusive, with greater capacity for bribery, more educated because some of them even studied at large universities, something that their relatives from whom they inherited the business had not done. In short, they were less visible.    Of course, the news that spread like wildfire and reached the ears of everyone, except Catalina and Yésica, put the members of the new Cartel into disarray.    Some said they were sheltering in guerrilla camps to evade the action of justice. Others said that they were negotiating with the paramilitaries who were negotiating peace with the Government at that time, so that they would pass them off as commanders and thus achieve a political status that could free them from an extradition request that the United States he did not deny any drug trafficker. Other sources claimed to have seen them fly to Venezuela, Panama and Cuba in their private planes. The truth is that when Catalina and Yésica arrived at the building where Cardona lived in order to ask for the money, they only found uniforms from the Police, the Prosecutor's Office, the DEA, the Army, the Interpol, the Sijin, the Dijin and the DAS and , at least a dozen journalists armed to their glasses.    They did not worry, because many characters of national life lived in the building and they thought it was their bodyguards, but they knew that something serious was happening at that moment when they were stopped at the door, by an officer, with the face of an inquisitor, who He asked them where they were going. Neither of them was able to answer and they were expelled from the place without explanation.    Catalina began to suspect that her luck was playing a new trick on her when Yésica asked one of the police officers, who was a friend of hers, about what was happening. The policeman who belonged to the cartel's payroll, told him in a code that the bosses had been taken by the whores and almost the police, so they had to leave before a DEA plane took them to the other side. He was referring to the fact that they were to be extradited to the United States. Catalina once again felt the world collapse at her feet and panicked when she learned that Cardona and his cronies had disappeared in disarray. Yésica marked them several times to their cell phones and found them turned off. Catalina was convinced of what the Policeman had just told her and felt, once again, the same desire to die that she felt the day that "El Titi" rejected her or the night that Albeiro told her that if she had bigger tits it would be the queen of Pereira.    —Parcera, we screwed up! —Yésica told him, very scared and she began to walk from one place to another, scared to death because this new situation was going to kill her with hunger and Catalina with sadness.    -And now? The petrified Catalina only managed to say while, inside, she vanished little by little. Yésica said nothing and went with her to find a list of her Mafia clients, but the only one who answered and with a changed voice was Mariño. Yésica asked him about Cardona, but he was scared, he told her very nervous that he did not know any Cardona and that, surely, she was wrong. Then he hung up on him. They dialed him again but his phone was already off. Without extenuating circumstances and painting the things the color they were, Yésica only managed to express with regret to her pale friend: "    Sister, we screwed up." Those guys left and left us sucking.    To capitalize on the anger she felt at this new disappointment, Catalina looked for Orlando Correa's phone number and made an appointment for him in the central park, under the statue of "Bolívar Desnudo" where "Caballo" had left her planted with the illusion in tow that afternoon rainy that never came. He congratulated him in code for having "made the return" as he was, that is, for having killed "Caballo" without being "caught" and summoned him at four in the afternoon, because he needed to see him to tell him how much he loved him and to ask her for the favor of making love to her.    Immersed in a fairy tale, knowing himself desired by a woman as beautiful as Catalina, Orlando Correa arrived at the meeting place at four o'clock and greeted her with effusiveness and enthusiasm. It was scented and wearing beige denim pants and brown suede shoes. The white shirt with green and brown stripes, which was already worn, looked very clean and neat. Catalina also looked beautiful and made enormous efforts so that the hatred she felt towards him or the sadness she felt for the rout of the drug traffickers, and especially Cardona's, was not noticed.    With anguish, Orlando wanted to finalize Catalina's main proposal during his call and invited her to a motel. The girl told him that she gladly accepted, but, weaving the web of her revenge, she exploited her billy goat weakness and asked if he would like to be with two women at the same time, because she had a friend who was also in need of a man and that she was sorry to leave her alone, in that state, being, as she was, his soul mate. Orlando responded with a lump in his throat that yes, of course, of course, of course, that there was no problem. I could not believe it. He was about to realize his sexual fantasy and even more so with the woman he was beginning to love. They then went to pick up Yésica,    At the generous request of Orlando, they settled in the most luxurious room they found in that place decorated with bad taste and a series of strange architectural expressions that combined columns full of channels and monumental pedestals copied from ancient Babylon, large postmodern windows to gardens with pots hanging from the windows of coffee farms. In the room they found a triple bed whose railing served as a support for two bedside tables without any grace, two lamps anchored to the wall and a car radio embedded in the main drawer of one of the nightclubs. Near the door was a comfortable striped fabric sofa and a table with three chairs and a thick, heavy glass vase. The curtains were red like the rug in the room and a television set against the wall, it projected the usual pornographic images: a woman sucking a man's penis. Before the incredulous and anxious look of the honoree, the two women began to remove their clothes with a high dose of premeditated sensuality, while the naive bodyguard only managed to undress with clumsiness and anguish, without taking his eyes off them.    According to plan, from one moment to the next the women stopped the show and asked Orlando to let himself be tied up to make the moment more exciting. Correa, as his colleagues and bosses called him, accepted the irresistible proposal without objection. The women proceeded to tie him hand and foot to the bed with ropes that they brought in his bag. Emotion did not make him suspect anything. The truth was that as soon as the innocent man was reduced to impotence, the women began to dress to his total amazement and they climbed on him with the desire to make him pay for everything he and his two friends had done and also everything he had not they had done. They beat him ruthlessly, in a kind of summary judgment, while reminding him of his crimes.    He was beaten to death, especially on the genitals, so that it would never occur to him to take advantage of a girl again. Catalina fiercely hit him on the penis and testicles with the vase that adorned the room. Orlando's screams competed with the radio, which Yésica turned the volume to its highest level. The hostage shouted for forgiveness, but his pleas were useless. The women were ready to take away forever the weapon with which he raped the girls and they did. Orlando lost a testicle, the sensitivity of the glans and the possibility of reproducing again.    Before fleeing the place, Catalina forced him to tell her the name of the third man who abused her that night and poor Orlando, beaten as he was and threatened with losing his penis and his remaining testicle forever, had no choice but to tell him that his name was Jorge Molina, while gave his phone number.    Jorge Molina was summoned in the same place. Catalina told him that she remembered him with desire, that of the three he was the one she liked the most, that if he had any problem making love to her and that if she was upset if she brought a friend to her love affair who was in need of a man Well, she was sorry to leave her wanting and even more after telling him that he was the best fuck in the world. Jorge Molina, the most lustful of the three, didn't bother. His omnipotent male ego soared through the roof.    He felt that the sky was not that set of white and gray clouds with blue backgrounds that he saw every morning from his window but rather the fact of making love with two beautiful girls like Catalina and Yésica. He took it so hard that before taking them to the Motel he went to a sex shop and spent a fortune buying Chinese stimulators, perverted thongs, ejaculation retardants and even a waitress apron that made them look more provocative than what they already looked.    On the way to the motel, he had all the illusions in the world. The most important was to propose that they both marry him. He was thinking of telling them that he loved them deeply and that the three of them go to live because wherever they saw him, in a borrowed car and everything, taking care of the bosses' backs, at all times, he was going to turn into a tough one in a short time. That he already knew the business, that he already knew how to make coca, that he already knew the routes by heart, that he already knew where to find the contacts in Mexico, Los Angeles, New York, Chicago and Madrid and that, very soon, When he reported his bosses to the DEA, he was going to have a lot of money to put both of them to live as they deserved, as the pair of queens they were.    She also thought that it was not a bad idea to spend the last of the fortnight taking them to a mall after leaving the motel and buying them a nice pint, with shoes included, so that they would become familiar with his broad and disinterested manner. to be. Entering the room he managed to tell them that they were going shopping when they left the motel. They thanked him with a simultaneous kiss on his cheeks and advised him, to calculate how much money he had, not to bother because they were very demanding, which is why the detail could be very expensive. Jorge Molina, who all his life had trachetal airs, told them not to worry because if he promised something it was because he could.    They did so before tying him up on the pretext of wanting more emotions and an hour later, poor Jorge Molina lay on the bed, bloody, about to lose consciousness, with his genitalia in a sorry state, his face bruised from blows and saying the code of the debit card that, along with 300 thousand pesos, was the only thing that supported his gossip. In an ATM in the center of Pereira they took out 860 thousand pesos, which was all that poor Molina had, and they went to get drunk twice. One to celebrate revenge against the three men who prevented him from selling the virgo to Mariño and another for the disbandment of his tracheo friends whom they missed with pain.    Orlando Correa and Jorge Molina found themselves in very similar situations during those days with broken faces and manhood, but they were ashamed to admit that they were in that sorry state thanks to the anger of two women, so one of them invented that a A taxi had run him over when he got out of the boss's truck; and the other, Jorge Molina, the most chicanero of all, that a man tried to kill him, probably because he did not want to pay extortion to the guerrilla group that blackmailed him. He said that because of his appearance, the cars in which he walked and how well dressed he kept, a front of the Farc often confused him with a rich man. Neither of us believed each other, but for the others,    But the drug stampede did not only affect Catalina's ego and dreams for the third time, nor Yésica's pocketbook, nor the occupation of the surgery room of the aesthetic clinic, nor Dr. Bermejo's plans to buy a BMW. It also affected the intra-family relationships of Ximena, Vanessa and Paola, whose mothers, accustomed to receiving large markets and money as a result of their daughters' work, dedicated themselves to singing them, day and night, until they made a desperate and denigrating determination: to work in a whorehouse where, for much less money, they would sleep up to three times a night with strangers of all kinds.    None of this was told to Catalina and Yésica who ended up filming in Bogotá, from aesthetic clinic to aesthetic clinic, and from friends 'houses, whom they bored in a week, at other friends' houses who did not know that they were going to them. to bore in a week.    The formerly listed Paola was assigned as the first client to a public official. Well scented and very well dressed, not so good lover. The bureaucrat agreed to an hour of pleasure with her for 200 thousand pesos. Once the deal was finished, he went to the bathroom, took a box of viagra from his jacket and took a pill with water taken from the sink and held between his juxtaposed hands.    Paola who was waiting for him in a damp room full of bad out of the six energies that the house had, all she did was think and think about "El Titi" and what he was going to say to her when he found out that because of her protective fault she had had to become a whore.    In those, the good-natured man with a corrupt face appeared and began to outline a nervous and stupid smile with which he asked for a kiss. She told him that the kisses were only for the boyfriend and he managed to upset him so much, to the point that, without a word, he got on the bed, got under the sheets, took off his pants and underwear, maniacally folded them, put them on on the nightstand and pulled her with his arms to make love to her later, in complete silence and without taking off his shirt or his black, thin, thin and knee-length stockings. Paola cried with rage, in silence and without perceiving any pleasure.    At that moment he did not feel his dizzying fall into the abyss of misfortune so much as when the smiling man with a corrupt face took out of his wallet two 50 and five 20 thousand bills and threw them at him slyly, on the rolled bed and wet, and then leave without saying goodbye.    It was worse for Ximena because she had to go to bed, the first night, with the owner of the establishment, with all his record of at least 500 women, most of them prostitutes, and without receiving a single peso for their services.    Vanessa didn't fare better than her two friends, either. Beginning because she had to fight with a client who refused to possess her using a condom. She said she didn't want to do it with a condom, that she didn't feel pleasure that way, and that she paid her double the rate if she allowed herself to be penetrated without that disgusting and uncomfortable rubber lining. Vanessa, who needed that money, was tempted to do so, but she began to think that if this guy did the same with all the prostitutes in the city, surely he was already a carrier of AIDS or at least venereal. That is why he resisted the urge to say yes and, in return, he suggested that he let himself do very tasty things without the need for penetration.    The guy reluctantly agreed and reluctantly undressed. He was even tempted to leave the room in search of another woman, but Vanessa asked him not to leave, to let her try something because she did not want him to leave with a bad image of the women of the place. The man who had the face of a serial killer, the look of a madman, bushy eyebrows, raised cheekbones, a pronounced jaw, and thick black-framed glasses, told him he had two minutes to show him why he didn't have to go.    But it only took Vanessa a minute to show that she was the best. In the end, the anonymous character in mourning was so pleased with the versatility and imagination of the little woman that he decided to pay her double for her services anyway. Simple, for meeting the rate and double for having taken it to the stars. He also asked her to become his concubine, but Vanessa, imagining that life next to a depraved like him was not going to be easy, took him out of the box with a very intelligent argument. He told her that he couldn't do that because she had to be very honest with him and she had to confess the reason for her reluctance to do it without a condom. He asked her why and Vanessa had no qualms about inventing that she was infected with the HIV virus.    The strange character laughed and pushed her affectionately and then told her not to worry, that there was no problem with them living together since he also had AIDS. An intense cold ran through Vanessa's body as the madman, dressed in black, explained the new functioning of his short life. He told her that he was infected by a boyfriend she had, without denying his bisexuality, and that when his partner died, he made up his mind to take revenge on the whole world by infecting everyone he could, women and men alike. That already a dozen prostitutes and another dozen youngsters in the city were infected by him and that his goal was to reach the fifty victims before he died.    Vanessa, who was about to become the twenty-fifth victim of the unbalanced, panicked and tried to get rid of him as soon as possible. He told her that all of this was wonderful. That it seemed good to him that others felt firsthand what they were feeling and that from now on he was going to suggest to his clients that they do it without a condom. The mentally deranged man even suggested that if the clients insisted with the condom that she sneakily pinch the end to make them "bitchy." They arranged to meet the next day to go shopping and the murderer disappeared with a happy face.    When she calculated that the depraved man was already far from the room, Vanessa began to tremble with fear, with the certainty that she had been on the verge of death and ran, in disgust, to bathe with a scrubber and then go out to ask everyone world if AIDS could be spread orally.    Vanessa, Paola and Ximena's mothers did better. The three of them did have their souls returned to their bodies, and also the market to the refrigerator. Happy with the return of the money to the house, none asked questions and all three began to scold their siblings for not letting them sleep during the day.    The truth is that with the arrival of the skinny cows, thanks to the rout of the drug traffickers, all the women who derived their livelihood and their ostentation from their unlimited checkbooks had to resort to different strategies so as not to deteriorate their standard of living and income. . Paola, Ximena and Vanessa became sex workers, Catalina and Yésica went to try their luck in Bogotá, many others who did not know, became they got into reigns of one thing and another and, the most beautiful and intelligent, entered television. Some of them, the least talented, slept with directors, librettists and producers to win a role, sparking a wave of outrage among actresses who burned themselves for years studying performing arts to deserve a second-rate role in a novel.

Track 2. Sign of the Times

Harry Styles x OC

Harry meets Olivia and slowly falls in love in the cold London evening. [4.4k]

Genre: fluff

Warnings: substance abuse

March 2012

“Hey Oli, he’s here” Frank calls over the bar stools and Oli descends from the stage. Uncle Jim’s bar is still closed, so it gives the band some privacy to talk along with their manager, Uncle Jim.

“How was the meeting?” she asks Jim, who struggles to walk on his cane and sits on a chair with a thud.

“It was great, they’re really interested in the EPs and the live performances” Olivia smiles encouragingly towards Frank, Gina and Fiona. “But they have a few contingencies”

“What sort of contingencies?” Fiona cuts anxiously.

“Well, after they studied the material you gave, they want to test you out as an opening act for a British band that’ll debut in America this year, they think you hit the same target demo so it’s a no risk deal” he begins, throwing his sunglasses over the table. “However, you’d have to agree to change your image to become more in-sync with the band, and I won’t sugarcoat this... they want to change a lot”

“Like what?”

“Like Frank’ skirts, for a start”

They all protest, except for Frank. “Ok, I’ll do it”

“What?!”

“Guys, it’s a recording deal that already comes with a tour in America, can you imagine how big we’ll get?” he shifts in his seat excitedly, “So what if I can’t wear the skirts on stage, I’ll deal with that later”

Gina taps her nails on the wood agitatedly, “What do you think, Jim? Is it a good deal?”

“I’m not gonna lie, it’s way better than Dirty Hit. It’s hard for an act to get a deal this good so early in their career, I think you should take it”

“Right, then that’s all we need to hear” Frank gets up and pats Jim’s shoulder on his way to the bar. Gina and Fiona follow his steps, getting ready to open the establishment while Olivia stays put, still uneasy.

“I don’t like this”

“I imagined you wouldn’t, but it’s a really good deal, I wish I had one of those when I started”

“I understand, it’s probably good for our first album and stuff but changing the image to suit another brand? I mean, who are we opening for?”

“It’s a boyband called One Direction, they’re getting big in the UK, chances are they’ll get big here and you’ll want to ride that wave when it gets here” he gets up, leaning on the chairs. 40 years touring with a rock band did take its toll on him – that or the drugs.

  Later, after their night shift, the four of them make their way back to the Columbia University dorms. Winter is just starting, but it’s still tolerable to walk the streets at night.

“This time next year we’ll have a flat each, imagine that” Fiona taunts Frank.

“Fuck, I wanna live in SoHo” he cries.

“Guys, do you really wanna do this?” Oli lights up a cigarette and frowns uncomfortably, “I checked the band today, they’re pretty clean cut, if we have to live up to that...”

“I checked them too, they seem nice” Fiona replies, taking a drag of her cigarette.

“Oli, you can’t judge someone you never met” Frank turns to her and hugs her shoulders. “Tell you what, we’re going to London next week to sign with the label, we should hit ‘em up and hang out, I bet you’ll change your mind”

  On the other side of the Atlantic, Harry’s laying on his couch scrolling through Twitter when Louis walks in with Eleanor after a romantic night out.

“What’s up, curly?”

“Nothing much, hi Els!”

“Hi!” she says slightly before she and Lou disappear in his bedroom.

  He drops the phone in his chest and stares at the ceiling. His ears are filled by their muffled giggles and whimpers, the thuds and thumps of two people who are clearly about to fuck. It kills him that not so long ago they were both moving in together and throwing house parties. At one of those occasions, when they were both hammered, Louis pulled him into that same bedroom and kissed him playfully.

  Harry didn’t take it playfully. It was no secret that he had a massive crush on his bandmate and when given the opportunity he took it further. So he slammed Louis against the wall and went down on him, taking that first step to explore his sexuality more than he ever did before, but it stopped there. The next morning Lou said he was just messing around, it wasn’t anything serious. And now here he is, fucking his girlfriend a few steps away from where he lays. He can’t stand it. So he takes his car keys and leaves, opting to sleep at Zayn’s place.

  Every night is the same, he sleeps at a friend’s to avoid getting his heart slammed under a rock when Lou and Els come back to the flat. One afternoon, he’s getting ready to go to Niall’s when Lou returns alone and on a rush.

“Where are you going?”

“I was just going to Niall’s”

“Niall’s coming with us to meet the opening act” he explains, changing his used shirt for a new one, “did you forget?”

“Uh... absolutely”

“Then come on, we’re late already”

  As they rush out, Oli drags her getting ready ritual for as long as she can. She decides to make a very complicated beehive bun with her havana twist braids, putting all her rings in there, finishing up with a heavy smokey makeup. By the time she’s ready to go, Frank’s very irritated. All he did was to put on a dress and a leather jacket.

“Why the long face?” she taunts.

“I know what you’re doing and it’s not nice” he sits behind her with those angry puppy eyes.

“Frank-“

“You’re trying to make an impression and the way you’re doing it might make us lose that deal” he interrupts.

“I would never make us lose the deal, I know how important it is to you” she holds eye contact trying to convey how genuinely she means it. Frank is more than just her brother, he’s her best friend and the only family who hasn’t given up on her, she doesn’t take this lightly. “I do not, however, think you’re looking at the bigger picture, but I can’t just fuck this up, not when I know what’s in stake”

“Alright, come on, make peace” he reaches his arms to her and pulls her to a hug, slowly tumbling her over the bed.

She panics, “Frank, no! My hair!”

“Fuck your hair, I’m trying to make peace here” he laughs it off.

  The One Direction boys are the first to arrive at the Clarance, a cozy little pub over at Trafalgar Square. Fiona and Gina arrive next, taking the seats closer to Zayn and Niall. Harry seats a bit distant, still very much immersed on his Twitter feed.

“Where’s the dude with the skirts?” Liam asks them playfully.

“He’s coming with Olivia”

“Who’s Olivia?”

“His sister” Fiona begins, “and they don’t look very much alike so please, don’t ask many questions, they get a bit embarrassed about it”

  Harry frowns but ultimately lets the subject fade. He orders a second beer at the bar and when he gets back to the table he’s faced with the late guests greeting everyone from afar. The man in a dress sits closer to everyone in the table, leaving him and the woman in the furthest corner. It’s true, they don’t look exactly alike: Frank is as pale as snow while Olivia’s skin is really dark, but closely examining their faces he can see some similarities like the eyebrows, the chin and the pitch black eyes that don’t seem to absorb any light at all. However, her eyes are the last thing he notices when she sits in front of him.

  She looks... intimidating, if he can say so. From hair to toe every bit of her seems meticulously crafted in an over-the-top way that makes her look like royalty, both in its beauty and its exclusivity. He feels like there’s a wall around her he can’t breach, even her posture communicates so. And she’s quiet but not meek, just commensurate. The only time he hears her voice is when she orders her drink then when she thanks the waitress. He’s too intimidated to talk to her but at the same time he can’t focus on anything else.

  The table seems agitated in conversation, except from the two of them who’re too distant to take part in any subject, so he tries to take that opportunity and talk to her. At first he stutters but she doesn’t notice, so he tries again.

“You like London?” he asks.

She takes a second to answer, not noticing that the question is directed to her. “Oh, yeah, just a bit too cold and grim for my taste”

“I know, thought the same when I first came here”

“Where are you from?”

“Cheshire, it’s a small farm city, you probably never heard of it”

She chuckles, “I’ve actually been to Cheshire a few months ago”

“No way”

“I went to record some vocals, meet with some friends and stuff. It’s a nice place”

“And you? Where are you from?”

“I’m from the most beautiful city in the world, and I say this in the most unpretentious way” she mocks, biting on her tongue playfully and capturing his attention. “Guess?”

“Hm... Havana?”

“No”

“Fuck’s sake, hm... LA?”

“LA is hideous”

“I don’t know, you don’t have an accent” she laughs at his distress.

“Rio”

His drunken mind struggles to recall where Rio is, but he knows it to be somewhere in the coast of Brazil. “Oh... that’s nice, isn’t there where the Christ statue is?” he asks mimicking the open-arms stance and bumping into Liam.

She giggles out loud for once, “Yeah, that’s the place”

  As they continue, the rest of the table becomes less important than their well humored chatter. Slowly, that unreachable facade starts to crumble as he finds talking to her as easy as breathing. He stops at the second beer and forgets to order anything else as he’s entertained by her stories about the band, Rio and her Uncle Jim.

“I’ll just have a smoke outside, do you...?”

“No, but I’ll come with”

  They get their coats at the door and stand outside as she lights a long slim hand-rolled cigarette, blowing the smoke away from him.

“How long you’ll be staying?”

“We leave tomorrow, Frank and I were thinking about getting matching tattoos in the morning”

“Can I ask you something that’s absolutely none of my business and if you don’t want to-“

“Just go for it” she cuts.

“Alright... what’s the deal with you and Frank?”

“Oh...” her smile slowly fades and her eyes fall to the ground.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, your friend said you might get embarrassed and I really shouldn’t have asked-”

“No, it’s ok, it’s just kind of a long story” she dismisses, “and most times people aren’t as careful as you, specially with the whole skin color thing”

He nods understandingly. “I see”

“Well, what’s going on is that our dad knocked up two different women at the same time: his wife, who had Frank, and his mistress, who had me. My mom raised me in Rio with her family, she never told me who my father was until he came to see me and he brought Frank. I swear to you I never gave two shits about my father, but-“ she chokes, getting a bit emotional, “but they didn’t let me see Frank, and I just love him more than anything in the world. So my parents made me choose and I chose Frank” she smiles briefly, regaining her posture. “Sorry, I just don’t like to tell this story”

“It’s ok” he tries to soothe, “I have a sister, she’s in college so I haven’t seen her in a while. When we lived at my mum’ she used to drive me crazy, she was so fucking boring with her books and her clever stuff and her bloody cupcakes, now I miss her like crazy. Last month I got a tattoo with her name in Hebrew”

“Why Hebrew?”

“‘Cause it looks like a drawing” she snorts a laughter through her still constricted throat. He laughs along, pretty aware how stupid it is.

She wipes her nose quickly, holding the cigarette away from her face, “That’s brilliant”

“I know, I know” he fakes humility.

Suddenly, Liam and the girls leave with their coats on. “‘ello guys”

“Where are you going?” Harry asks.

“I’m feeling a bit nippy so I’m heading home, I’ll give ‘em a ride. Do you want a ride?” he asks Oli.

“No, thank you” she smiles politely at him.

“Okay, bye guys!”

They watch Liam and the girls get a cab and leave, then shortly after the rest of the group comes through the door, “What’s going on?”

“It’s too quiet in here, we’re going to a bar in Soho” Frank replies handing Olivia her purse, “you coming?”

“Hm... sure” she looks at Harry and he nods.

“Right, you have to get another cab, this one’s full lads” Louis informs and Harry sighs.

“It’s fine, guess we’ll just walk”

“If you say so” they all get inside the car and slam the door, leaving Harry and Olivia behind. Just as the cab leaves, a cold wind blows them in the face.

“Bad idea, bad idea” she sings, rubbing her hands together.

“Hey, give me your hands” she shoves her hands palms up towards him and waits as he fiddles in his pockets, finding a pair of mittens. He dresses them in both her hands and rubs them together until she’s warm. She watches from up close as he holds her fingers earnestly and squeezes them in reassurance, “Better?”

She misses a beat, too distracted to answer right away, “Much better, thanks”

  They begin walking towards Trafalgar Square, bumping shoulders all the way to the monument. She takes particular notice of the clumsy way he walks close to her, it’s quite endearing how he scoots closer but is still too shy to walk confidently beside her. When they arrive at the Square, she suddenly stops and looks up to the sky.

“You know what I hate about London?”

He frowns, “The cold?”

“Can’t see the stars”

  Harry then looks up to the sky and for the first time actually notices that the sky, when not covered by clouds, is always just a black-brownish color all throughout. He’s never seen stars in London, at least in the part of the town he lives in.

“Too many lights and the pollution, it’s a sign of the times really: you can’t see the beauty behind the outcome of progress. In Rio, anywhere you go there’s just so much sky” he discreetly glances away from the sky and towards her. “If you look up and realize that the small dots are actually massive balls of heated gas you can actually feel the distance between them, it’s some sort of... upside down vertigo. You feel your mind breaking through the atmosphere and the distances all align, it’s quite a sight”

For one brave moment he speaks his mind: “Don’t know about that, but things look pretty good down here too”

She looks back at him and laughs nervously, not knowing how to react to the compliment so she deflects it. “Hope you’re talking about the lions”

“You know I’m not...” he smirks, making his remarkable dimples pop.

Olivia smiles away from him, pacing awkwardly towards him. “You know what? I don’t want to meet them in Soho”

“Neither do I”

“How about we just... take a stroll around the city?”

“Alright, I can do that” he offers his arm and she laces hers with his.

“Wait, can we get one of those big red buses?”

“Sure”

  They walk to a nearby bus stop and get on the second store of a big red bus that goes around Westminster and then up to St. Paul’s, passing through all the big tourist attractions.

“You’ve never been to London before?”

“No, but I’ve been to Cheshire” she explains as he smoothly rests his arm over her backboard, “Our old label had a studio in New York but it was too expensive to rent, so Uncle Jim sent us to a bunch of different studios in Chicago, Cheshire, Stockholm and such. He has a lot of friends in the industry so we practically borrowed them”

“Nice”

“It was nice, but the 4 of us were in college so it was a bit troublesome... even more because I met a guy...”

“Oh boy” he mock-gasps.

“Yeah, he was in a small band with his friends from school, they were recording an EP in the same studio as us and we he hit it just like that” she snaps her fingers, “but it lasted just as long as we were there. When I came back to New York we never spoke again... but I can’t stop thinking about it, it’s so-“

“Frustrating?” he guesses and she nods vehemently.

“Yes!”

“Yeah, I know what it’s like. You share so much of your intimate life, you become vulnerable with someone who doesn’t think that’s important” he finishes, staring at the distant horizon of the Thames as they cross the Lambeth Bridge. “And then he just brings his girlfriend over and have sex with her everyday to remind you that he didn’t want you, and you can’t tell that to anyone because you have an image to maintain”

She watches him quietly return from his daydream and whispers: “I’m so sorry, I had no idea”

He sighs, “It’s alright, just needed to get that off my chest”

She measures her words for a moment, deciding to just tell him everything. “When I met Matty, I had been struggling with my sexuality. I had dated a few girls but I wasn’t so sure if I wanted the same with boys. But I met him, and I was mad about him and I thought he was perfect for my first time. After that, we never talked again and I felt really stupid... I showed him the most vulnerable side of me and he didn’t even care, I was just a nice shag” Harry frowns sadly, nodding along in understanding. “And I had a few other affairs after him, but it was the first time and I felt so awful about it, I don’t know-“

“I do. I’ve been pining up for Lou ever since we first met, and like... I though it was just friendship but it’s not, I don’t feel that way. It’s not the first time I’ve felt like that about a boy, I do like boys and girls, but I’ve never told anyone – except maybe my sister” she chuckles briefly. “Anyway, one day he just kisses me, out of the blue, and takes me to his bedroom and I think this is my chance, and I straight up give him a gobby-“

“What’s a gobby?”

“It’s hmm-“ he leans closer to her, “a blowjob”

“Oh”

“Yeah, I did something I had never done before, I had never gotten that... intimate with someone. And when I did, the next day he said it was all a joke” he chokes a bit, “when it wasn’t a joke to me. But I can’t just not feel...”

She holds his hand, “I know what you mean... it’s like we know we’ve been in this situation before but we’re just stuck...”

He nods, ponderative. “You know, I don’t want to talk about this anymore”

“Yeah, this turned into a terrible conversation way too quick”

“I want a drink”

  They drop at a little marketplace in Lambeth and choose to buy a bottle of wine. As she doesn’t enjoy red wine, they settle for a bottle of white and sit on one of the barricades at the margins of the Thames.

“You know what, Olivia-”

She snorts as the wine’s already working its magic, “Don’t call me that”

“It’s your name”

“But nobody calls me, it’s appalling!” she replies dramatically.

He leans over her folded leg, trying to balance the wine bottle, “What should I call you, then?”

“Oli is fine”

“Alright”

“How would you like me to call you?” she gestures towards him.

“I don’t know, people call me all sorts of thing: curly, curls, Harry, Hazza”

“I like Hazza, it’s quite inventive”

“Be my guest”

“Alright Hazza, you were saying?”

He frown, “What was I saying?”

“I have no idea” she laughs, falling over his shoulder and leaving a rim of makeup on his jacket.

He tries to recompose himself before talking again, “I think I was trying to tell you that I’m really excited about this tour, specially now that I’ve met you”

“Awn” she melts, “you’re so sweet... but I don’t know if I want to tour with you guys”

“Why not?”

“It’s just that the label is making some huge changes in our image for us to tour with you, I don’t know if I want to go through that and make a name for myself pretending to be someone I’m not...”

“But think about this” he tries to focus her eyes on his, “we’re kind of big here, and when we go to America we’ll get BIG big and so will you. Once you get that big, you can do whatever the fuck you want, you just have to go through this little hurdle and then the world is yours”

“I like that but I don’t know if that’s how it’ll play out”

“If it doesn’t then at least you’ll have a lot of fun, eh?” he taunts her with that big bright smile. “Come on”

“Haz...”

“Please, come on... I really wanna tour with you” he scoots closer to her, “I’ve been talking to you all night and I feel like we haven’t talked enough”, at this proximity, she has to turn her face away as to not look him in the eye. “And I think you feel the same”

“I... might feel the same” he bites his cheeks victoriously as she turns back to look him in the eye for the first time this close, “and I might take that tour but I can say anything for sure when I’m drunk”

“You’re not that drunk”

“No? Then why do I want to kiss you so bad?” she blurts and he raises his eyebrow with a dimply smile.

  He wastes no time with a cheeky reply, just closes the small gap between them feeling sparks fly in his stomach. Her lips are cold but very soft and very patient against his, she doesn’t deepen it right away just savors that innocent touch. She cups both of his cheeks as he hugs her waist closer to him, feeling her chest against his rapidly rising one. He deepens the kiss by leaning over her and touching their tongues in a slightly sensuous fashion, making their exchange gain a lot of pace. Her hands slide from his cheeks to his chest, pushing him back a bit. When their lips part he can feel a tingle as if there’s electricity coursing through them.

  She leans her forehead against his and for a moment they say nothing, just breath into each other. Before any of them can say anything, Harry leans and kisses her cheek earnestly, caressing the other with his free hand as she rests her head against the crook of his neck.

“You smell so good...” she whispers against his skin, making him giggle at the spontaneous commentary.

“Thanks, I try my best”

“You’re doing a marvelous job” she mocks, getting a grip on the wine bottle they’ve been sharing for a while now. “It’s empty already?”

“Yeah, I might have spilled a bit in the river while you were snogging me”

“Do you call that ‘snogging’?”

“How would you call that?”

“Making out?”

“See, I have a lot to learn, that’s why you have to come to the tour”

“Do you think you won’t go snogging other girls and guys when I’m on tour with you?” she teases him.

“I might even snog someone, but this” he pulls her closer, “I never had this with anyone... and I don’t know if I’ll have it again anytime soon”

“You’re not saying that just ‘cause I told you my sob story earlier, are you?”

“I told you mine too, you didn’t want to kiss me because of that” they laugh.

  Eventually, they grow tired of the cold and of having to buy cheap booze on shady corner streets, so Harry walks her back to the hotel. The lights of the main hall are already out, save for one above the front desk where a night manager keeps watch. She calls the elevator and turns to him one last time.

“I’d invite you upstairs but there’s three other people in the bedroom so it might not be as romantic as the Thames”

“Yeah, I think we should call it a night”

“I guess I’ll see you around” she paces forward, giving him silent permission to lean in and kiss her goodbye. He cups her cheek, gently letting go of her lips just as the elevator arrives.

“Goodnight Oli”

“Sleep tight” she replies, getting into the elevator and disappearing into the night.

  By the time Harry arrives at his flat the sun is almost up, this time he walks past Louis’ door without even noticing its existence. He crashes into the bed and recalls the events of the night, rolling over the mattress until he can properly rest his head. Finally after weeks of martyrdom he can stop crying over someone who won’t give him the affection he craves and just rejoice on the one he actually gets.

  He takes his phone out of his pocket and groans for a moment as he recalls he did not write down her number. In this day and age when he can access people instantly it is tortuous to not be able to just reach out immediately to the one person that’s on his mind. It builds inside his chest like a dark cloud, peaking his anxiety all over again.

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Masterlist

Cherish the Moment - A SoKai Wedding Fic

Rated T. Sora and Kairi get married... Though there's some subverting expectations in here, since it's the only way I could write this--A, because so many others already have and B, because I felt I'd mess it up if I did it any other way--like, there are some moments Kairi's a bit sad that the few feelings she had for Riku will remain a question mark now (and thinks Sora might feel the same way about his feelings for Naminé)... But that really only lasts for five seconds, and can be seen as Kairi wedding jitters, as I swear all of this is really the fluffiest SoKai piece you'll ever read. SoKai, RokuShi, Namiku, Terqua, Gulava, VentusStrelitzia (as well as past PlayerStrelitzia). Slight RiKai and SoNami, but not really, but definitely more of the former, if any. Kind of written by accident when I needed a break from my other stories... and then it snowballed.

Kairi's PoV

As lovely as Kairi’s marriage to Sora was—that she did want more than anything else in that World, and that was a dream come true in so many ways—there was a little part of Kairi, that was sad that the questions she’d once had about Riku and herself would remain exactly that. And she imagined that… even though Sora would never admit it, the side of his heart that still existed in Castle Oblivion felt that about his tangled feelings for Naminé. But it was what it was—since this was real life, and it wasn't perfect, and Kairi wouldn't trade this feeling for the nothingness she’d felt at Sora’s disappearance for the world. Kairi wore something evergreen as her wedding dress—since it was the color she looked best in, and she wanted to look as beautiful as she could for Sora. ….Also, because Kairi had lost her virginity to Sora a long time ago, and she wasn’t going to lie or feel ashamed about it—and in order to match her, her sun was wearing a yellow tuxedo: that reminded Kairi of the bog world she and Sora had recently visited, that made her happy. Of all places they could've gotten married, the couple had chosen Monstropolus' laugh factory, for Kairi had thought if they got married in front of all the running doors, it could make a lovely sight. And it had. The two had also gotten Barbossa to marry them (when King Mickey had said he would be too nervous to do so). That had been Sora's idea… and Kairi got the sense that it was largely because he had been inspired by Will and Elizabeth’s wedding, who he thought they were like. Which was beyond sweet... And seeing the man's humorous reaction to this new world—before Sora and Riku had nearly instantly shoved him back through a Corridor of Light—had been more than funny to Kairi. But he'd actually officiated for them perfectly, in asking Sora if Kairi was the Elizabet to his Will or Calypso to his Davy Jones… But when Barbossa had begun talking about Sora and Kairi’s upcoming wedding night, Sora and Riku had furiously made him vacate the premises… and despite everything, Kairi had laughed. Even while she’d tried to defend the pirate from her husband and big brother (because yes, that was what Riku really was to her) But after that drama—right after they’d been married—Sora and Kairi had rode atop one of the doors together for a while—with both of them kicking their legs to and fro as it moved beneath them, like they’d both rocked on the paopu tree all those years ago. And while both Kairi and Sora felt somewhat bad that they were keeping their joy from everyone else, by having this special and private moment… they contended themselves with the fact that every other married couple would have been getting pictures away from everyone else at this point, anyway. "But maybe we shouldn't be doing this," Sora eventually said with a chuckle. "I mean, your wedding dress is so impractical for writing doors on, Kai. You might fall right off! And the last thing I want, is for my wife to die on our wedding day." But at this point that Sora had said this, the door had already reached its destination—sort of making Sora's words moot—but Kairi couldn't help teasing her love about it, all the same. "It's okay, Sora. Wielding the Keyblade gives us mastery over gravity, remember? That's how I fought in a dress in The Castle That Never Was. So, I’ll be fine if we want to do this again." But right now, they had bigger fish to fry. So Kairi walked towards Boo's door. The spouses had planned to go visit Boo during their wedding—because they'd wanted everyone they loved to be able to attend. And Kairi adored her, now that she’d gotten to meet her a few times. But now that she and Sora were at her door, planning to go through, Kairi found herself second-guessing if this was a good idea at all. They didn’t want to risk spooking the girl’s parents, who still somehow didn’t know about other worlds… "Sora," Kairi started, as she with loving eyes pulled him away from the door he'd just opened. “We can maybe disturb Boo later… But don't you think we should go see the rest of our friends for a little bit before our honeymoon? Sora didn't have to be asked twice; Kairi had sensed that he was missing Riku, after all. When the two of them got back to the Laugh Floor—where their ceremony had taken place—the lovers could see that Riku was trying to see if Naminé would eat the lemon meringue pie, if he got rid of the gooey bits from it, that she didn't like. …Riku and Naminé were wonderful for each other, and Kairi was honestly glad that they had each other... And Naminé ending up accepting Riku's offer was just further proof of that, in her eyes. And what were Sora and Kairi’s other friends doing right now? Most of the ones with responsibilities in other parts of the galaxy had left already. But some were still here. Like right now, Kairi could see that Ariel was thrilled that she could be part human, part mermaid in a monster form here if she wished... Aladdin was trying to stop Abu from stealing things, it appeared (though this was unnecessary, as both Kairi and Sora had told their guests that they were welcome to any of the decorations the two of them had brought here), and Kairi was glad when Xion kept reminding him that it was fine... Hercules was trying to convince Mike and Sully that they might as well have statues of themselves put up here in their world, like he had a few of his own in Olympus. And the Restoration Committee was trying to see if they could use the door system themselves, as some part of the defense mechanism. And a Lightning was wondering why just because a "Tron" (who had thankfully been restored!) had added a data version of her to his system, the real her had been invited to this wedding… Kairi didn’t even know the answer to that herself, but the more the merrier! Right? As for everyone else... Roxas was by Xion’s side in the whole Abu and Aladdin scenario. The former Nobody did seem somewhat sad that Xion was paying all her attention to it, instead of him… But since it was for Xion, it was clear that he was happy to be doing whatever she was. Terra and Aqua were dancing, and it made Kairi ponder whether or not they'd now decided they saw each other as more than siblings, after all. Lauriam and Ven were… comforting Strelitzia over Player's death. And Kairi once again thought about telling the poor dear that she hadn't had to come here—and that she could leave whenever she wanted to—but that she and Sora were both thankful she had come at all... And Lea, and Isa were catching up with Skuld at the punch table... And it looked as though King Mickey, Donald, Goofy, and Master Yen Sid were working on some amazing fireworks for Sora and herself? "Where do we even begin?" Sora asked nervously, as he scratched his ear. Kairi imagined that Sora probably wanted to go help with the fireworks display, but given his tendency to sometimes make things blow up—like those blasters back at The World That Never Was—Kairi didn’t know if that was the best idea. "Say, Kairi… what do you say we go talk to Ava first? Is it me, or does she seem lonely?" And Ava did seem that way. And Kairi got the sense that while the woman was thrilled, that what she’d done had helped to lead everyone here... that she was beginning to think what the Master of Masters had been after similar things, after all, and that maybe she had been wrong to kill him. And as soon as they approached Ava, she was telling them just that. "It's a beautiful wedding you’re having, Sora, Kairi... but my father should have been here, since he created all of this. But he isn't... and that’s my fault." '…Except that, as great as your father was… I think he did go insane from it all and would have destroyed the world, if you hadn't stopped him,' Kairi wanted to say, but didn’t. And judging by how Sora kept opening his mouth and shutting it again, Kairi thought that her other heart felt much the same way. But instead, she enveloped the girl in her arms--that Sora watched with a proud twinkle in his eye before he’d turned away from them, Kairi had seen. Perhaps he was about to find Gula and tell him to make sure his girlfriend was happy –and told her what was in her heart. "I get where you're coming from, Ava. Really, I do. And joyful times can make you think of all those who you've lost, who you wish could be there for you, too. …But I think you're looking at this in the wrong way. You've got to think about all that you have! Like your dear friends Gula, Invi, Aced, and Ira... and all of the various Key Kids who found their way here; and how you're now friends with us: the new guard when it comes to the Light, and together we've created some beautifulthings." And there was also the answer to Kairi’s own problem, wasn't it? She had been somewhat focusing on the teeny, tiny bit that she and Sora were losing in getting married—since they had had other feelings for others in the past—that she’d missed that, despite everything, she was finally tied with the love of her life in every way she had wanted to... and that meant more than all of the munny in the world ever could. And her words must have had the intended result of getting through to Ava, too, Kairi saw, because the older woman wiped her tears away... smiled at Kairi and Sora, as he joined them with Gula being pulled behind him, and said, "You’re right, Kairi. And in my heart, I’m still a leader to the Dandelion children. So why am I becoming undone, when I should be comforting Strelitzia--who's already lost so much!—about her love? If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go do that right now. Thank you, my King and Queen." Kairi blushed at that title she and Sora had been given after everything they'd done (Riku and Naminé had even been given some, too), but didn't let it show. Instead, she admired how at that exact moment, Gula had chosen to kiss Ava on the cheek—to show her that she was cared for, but not distract her too much from her mission; or so Kairi guessed—while Ven had chosen to kiss Strelitzia full on the mouth, who was responding positively while Lauriam was not. So suddenly feeling very much in love for a few reasons, Kairi leapt into her precious Sora's arms—wrapping her legs around his waist, as he caught her at the last minute after her surprise attack. "Sora, you know what I just realized?” Kairi asked, as she leaned close to Sora and prayed to Kingdom Hearts to give her strength to say these next words, since she was a terrible dancer. “We've been lame! in not giving everyone our first dance yet!" Sora chuckled at this, as he leaned his forehead against Kairi’s own and looked deep into her eyes with loving ones of his own. “Then let’s go give them a show, Mrs.” And everyone around them must have realized what they were finally about to do, because Terra wolf-whistled, and Riku called out with a hand over his mouth, "Dance already, you two! You've already broken tradition by having the other couples do so before you!" Sora stuck his tongue out at Riku for that one. So in wanting to everything wedding the traditional way now, Kairi let Sora lead her onto the dance floor—and he winked at her in a way that made a shiver run down Kairi’s spine in the best way possible—and she prepared to do a nice, slow dance with Sora... only for the song to change to the Cupid Shuffle. And Kairi and Sora cracked up, as they once again leaned their foreheads against each other’s, but also held both of each other’s hands this time while doing so. After dancing to the song by themselves very shortly, Kairi and Sora motioned for everyone to come onto the dance floor with them... which Kairi was glad for—since it would hopefully distract everyone how she always messed up timing or did the wrong thing in this song. But Sora was a godsent when it came to making her look good at dancing, and somehow seemed charmed by her bad movements, so it was a win-win. Fortunately, the Cha-Cha slide came on right after the Cupid Shuffle—that Kairi knew better than any other dance—and she was able to redeem herself some. And seeming to realize she wanted to leave the dance floor on a high note, Sora asked with the kind of kindness he’d had in his eyes when he’d told Chirithy she’d made him remember how good it was to experience things with a friend, "Want to give everyone else the dance floor now?" And Kairi shouted "Yes!" faster than anything she'd ever said in her life, since—as it was—her feet were starting to kill her in these high heels, too. Sora, truly being a psychic, swept Kairi up off her feet before she could even voice the thought. And she leaned her head into his shoulder, like a soldier coming home for the first time in ages. It was at this time that everyone seemed figure out that they were ready to leave. So there were last minute goodbyes (Roxas pretended to cry that his brother was all grown up—and this had gotten a kick out of everyone—nevermind the fact that Sora was older than he was), thank yous, and promises to see each other again soon....As well as Kairi trying to give away some of the lantern decorations that she and Sora had bought for the event... But soon enough, everything was sorted out and Sora and Kairi were leaving in the gummi ship to go somewhere magical for their honeymoon, as all of their friends waved at them... and it was then that Kairi promptly passed out in Sora's arms... all the planning, stress, and exhausting—though perfect day—having finally gotten to her. … When Kairi later awoke, it wasn't to her and Sora's honeymoon location—as nice as that would have been; and Sora was still keeping it a secret where they were even going—but to their room in their gummi ship. And Kairi had to say... even if there was always a part of her that would slightly prefer being home, she could certainly get used to waking up in their bed in the gummi ship together. Sora’s scent was all over the blankets and it was lovely; Kairi had to resist the urge to roll herself back up into them and go to sleep again, even. But Sora must have sensed what she was about to do, because he stole her blankets away from her before she could get too comfortable and Kairi glared at him... before descending into a fit of giggles. "Hey, Kairi!" Sora was laughing himself. "You can't go back to sleep yet! I mean... here I am, somewhat carelessly leaving the ship in autopilot to make sure I was by your side when you first woke up after we were married. And you don't even care? C'mon! Where's the Kairi who jumped through Corridors of Darkness to see me?" Suddenly feeling more awake now, and giddy, and even somewhat like their younger selves, Kairi sat with her knees on the black mattress, and spared Sora a glance and a thought. "You're right... I'm not appreciating this moment enough at all. I should be calling you a 'lazy bum', and slapping you upside the head... Or actually, not doing that, because I'm a sensible girl who knows how to deal with her feelings now, outside of physically hurting the object of my affections. Especially since I need no excuse to touch you now. Eep!" And even before Kairi herself knew it—and she was the one who had done this!—she was flying through the air and then in Sora's arms, as she peppered kiss after kiss on every inch of his face, neck, and shoulders. And when he gently pushed her away from himself—while still smiling stupidly—Kairi could tell that he’d been getting distracted, too. But Sora somehow got himself back under control soon, to which Kairi could only frown. "Kairi… not now. The gummi ship will crash. And we're saving this for our special honeymoon, remember?" Kairi wanted to do anything but let Sora go. But as she recalled how Riku and Naminé's ship had been nearly destroyed by Heartless not so long ago, she thought that being cautious probably was for the best. "…Okay, Sora. Go pilot the gummi ship—and take me to wherever this glorious new world is—and I'll get us breakfast." Kairi, who had been moved by Sora's cooking at the bistro, almost hated that she was going to make stuff for them now... instead of letting the professional chef make food for her. But she also thought it was only fair, since he was apparently going all out for her in another way. And besides, she was quite the cook herself, wasn't she? Hadn't she found many neat ways to cook fruit on the island, that Sora and Riku had adored? Kairi got her answer to that question soon enough, when Sora told her "Yes, please do that, Kairi! And bring out the fruit flavor even more in the orange chicken, as you do!" And then Sora was diving for the control panel, as both he and Kairi saw an asteroid heading their way. And the Keyblade master got the ship to move in just the nick of time. Kairi laughed. As much as, in some ways, she didn't want it to be... this was kind of like old times: like when Sora had been driving the gummi ship after saving her from Hollow Bastion, and Kairi had been left asking Goofy what she could do to help him at all, while the brunet and Donald had fought about who was driving. And as much as Kairi had grown since then and was thrilled by it, because she never wanted to lose her friends again but to rather be their equal... She still liked being cherished by Sora like this—especially the day after their wedding—and if creating non-breakfast food was her part of the bargain to have that feeling, then she'd gladly do it. And she did. And the happy couple ate merrily. When they were done? Sora was pointing out to her the biggest amusement park she could have ever imagined! "Is this where we're going, Sora? It seems so fun! Oh! What's that ride that looks like a skyscraper, and-" Kairi got her answer to that question when she saw the "elevator" within the false building rocket back down to ground level from a horrifying height. "...You know, Kairi, weirdly enough... I must have somehow drawn on the imagery of this place when I developed my Attraction Flow. Or something. Like, I almost wanted to make an attack like that skyscraper—like a guillotine, almost—but I didn't." Huh. That was odd. Kairi really didn’t know what forces governed the multiverse—so maybe all things happened for a reason—but even so, there was at least one thing she didn’t want to talk about in that... "I'm all for us being entertained by roller coasters as part of our honeymoon, Sora... But can we stop talking about beheadings, please? I think I’m going to be sick." And not needing to say anymore to convince him, Sora gently took Kairi’s hand in his own and began leading her through the exit… and the moment Kairi’s feet touched the ground, she was already having so much fun! She ran on the cobblestone to where she could get funny little hats, and then motioned with her eyes that she and Sora should go to the castle towering above them next! Which they did. And as the two of them had always wanted to fly with one another, they went on a ride together of soaring elephants. And it reminded Kairi of that “Dumbo” Sora had summoned on his first journey. She had seen this while being in his heart. And Kairi made sure to point this out to Sora, as she leaned as close to him in the seat as she could—even getting out of her own seatbelt, so she could be within his. Once they exited that attraction, one of the workers seemed annoyed with what Kairi had done... but upon seeing the rings on her and Sora's fingers, shook his head and seemed to imagine it was only expected of newlyweds. Or so Kairi guessed, since he let them walk by without chewing them out in the slightest. Then, Sora was amazed by something called vanilla ice cream—since the two of them had only had seasalt and chocolate before—and in trying it herself, Kairi decided it was every bit as good as Sora said it was. And after that, Sora and Kairi discovered something called "race cars" in a place called “Autopia”, that neither could get enough of. But too soon after that—or perhaps not soon enough—they were back in their hotel room (that had aesthetics they both loved. Kairi partly loved them because there were pictures of Sora here somehow! Maybe the two of them really were somehow connected to this place and the multiverse was trying to show them it). And then Sora and Kairi were worshipping each other's bodies, lazily, as warm air spilled into the room. They'd both been slow and nervous with each other when they’d started, almost like it was their first time again, but then they’d found their way—as they always did with each other—and had just opted to make slow love. "And to think we can start every morning like this, Kairi," Sora said sweetly, as he kissed her lips and the morning sun spilled in. "Mmm. That’s the most perfect thing I can think of," Kairi answered back… “Well, aside from a few other things to make this even better”, Kairi said cheekily, as she sat up and her lips started going down, down, down Sora’s body. And in a world where anything could be torn away from them in any given moment—including each other, as they both knew well—knowing that they could wake up together for a while really was the best feeling in the world. And Kairi cherished it.

Burnt Heart: Ch 2. Trust Thunderstruck

Many years had passed, and the Kikai Empire's power had never been higher. Under Zannah's rule, she had obtained four different islands, and the unclaimed tip of a land from another continent. Her people had spread like wildfire after interbreeding with colonialized races into the Empire. The baby boom was high for Hasai birthrates, and she couldn't be more overjoyed. Her citizens were almost fanatically devoted to her, working hard to fit and find a place in the gears of her well-oiled Empire. The Waku in particular, while young, were growing in secret exactly to her design. Most grew up being completely loyal to the Empire. However, there was always resistance, and with her reach so far, there was bound to eventually be a loose gap in her defenses.

Flying on a Wyvern, a Waku, descended from his Dal mother and Emperor Zannah's vision, grew angry with their life. They grew complacent training to be a fighter for the Empire. Most of all, they grew resentful that they never grew up with the love and care of a father.

It started a cold trial from her ignorant mother, which lead her to the heart of the Empire. There, she secured the name of the first Waku. A man of great renown known as Kahli. She needed to find this man, and she knew that word would travel to ears belonging to agents of the Empire quickly that she escaped from her mother's watchful eye. Maybe the agents weren't fast enough, or maybe they didn't catch on at all, but she found herself flying into the borders of Hyrule. Her Wyvern only slightly bigger than a horse, starting to fly closer to the earth. Grievous would find this man and make him answer dearly to their questions.  

Kahli had volunteered to take the exports to the docks so Zizi could have a day to prepare for Manaco's upcoming birthday. He was a man now, and had completed his first trial of manhood. Her son had purchased a plot of land for his family one day. Now, he was in the process of finishing his house. So, to celebrate the occasion, Zizi was baking his favorite dessert; strawberry cake. No matter how tough her son acted, he still had a weakness for the sweet, tasting fruit. When Kahli returned, the two of them would go over to Manaco's new place with the cake. She was in the middle of spreading the whipped cream over the cake when she heard a knock at the door. Glancing at the clock, Zizi thought it was odd. Kahli was not due home for another couple of hours. Who was visiting?

Opening the front door, Zizi was surprised to see... someone new.

"Yes? May I help you?"

"Where is he woman?" Grievous had white war paint on her face, giving her the impression of a skull. Yellow eyes and red skin were the norm for any Waku, yet due to her Dal heritage, a primate tail was flicking back and forth angerly. Her hair was bountiful, parting more backwards due to a war helmet she wore. Honestly, due to the massive amount of protection in Hyrule, most would find it ill advised to threaten someone so openly in public, but not this girl. "Where is the man known as Kahli? Show yourself you coward!"

"... okay, I've been through this before." Zizi had a very unimpressed look on her face. "Look, everyone wants to fight my husband, or has wanted to kill him at some point. So, what is it? What could he have possibly done this time in the past? I'm in the middle of baking a cake for my son and you're interrupting. Kahli is not here, so go ahead and leave or else I will just launch you off my doorstep myself."

Grievous shot a streak of fire at one of the flowers that Kahli gardened for her.  "I have no quarrel with you woman. Are you his servant perhaps? I will ask only once more before I tear this house apart to drag him out into the streets. Show yourself! You dare call yourself Father to the Waku?!"

Zizi was old. Zizi was tired. Zizi was the earth sage. She had patience and kindness in her heart. But right now? Zizi was very annoyed. This was going to end very quickly. The Zemlja did not even have to move. Her magic was advanced far beyond what was normally expected due to her sudden status as earth sage. She did not desire the title, but it was entrusted to her. Most of the time, she did not have to use such harsh magic.

The earth suddenly opened and swallowed the stranger up to her neck. It hardened and kept her in place. There would be no way she'd be able to move.

"I. Am. His. Wife." Zizi bent down to look the young girl in the eye. "You mess with him, you mess with me."

"Let me go! Or my mighty mount will rip you to shreds."

To Zizi, the Wyvern might as well be a house cat compared to the dragons she knew from her homeland. At first it looked surprised at its owner being trapped under the earth. Next it spread its wings wide, baring its teeth. With one leg kicking the dirt, it looked as though it was either ready to charge head first with its horns, or snap at Zizi. "That man owes me! You will not deny me my hunt for him! I've come too far!"

Zizi merely whistled and from there, three enormous Lorleidian dragons arrived outside her house. Ari'phompha was one, glaring down at the little Wyvern. The earth dragon was older than the rest of the group, but still able to fight. She snorted loudly and tapped her claws.

"You won't win this battle, young one. I suggest you back off." Ari'phompha warned the Wyvern. "You shall not harm our friend."

"Kahli owes you nothing." Zizi poked the girl's head. "Why don't you calm your temper and tell me what this is all about or else, I'll have my friends escort you away."

"Fight for friend. N-not scared of you." The little Wyvern growled back at the much more powerful and far bigger dragons. He couldn't shoot any type of energy from his mouth, and had no arms to fight with, but he had his spunk.

Grievous nearly let her age get the better of her and almost was on the verge of crying. "That bastard is my father! A father I never knew! Release me vile earth witch!"

It was as if the world stopped. Time stopped. Everything came to a screeching halt.

"...!!! WHAT?!" Zizi shouted so loud that even the dragons winced at her volume. "YOU LIE!!!" She pulled the girl out of the ground by the collar and held her there. "He is MY husband! He would never cheat on me! The bond prevents him from doing so!"

The Waku was currently still too weak from the earth having gripped her like a vice to fight back physically, but the fire in her eyes didn't mean she would stop trying to express her fury. "Look into my eyes! I am Waku! The one known as Kahli is the only one who can be my father! I am one of hundreds!"

"Hu... hundreds?" Zizi felt her heart sink into her gut. Her eyes. None of the Hasai had eyes like that except for Kahli. It couldn't be true! It just couldn't! Kahli wouldn't hurt her like this, wouldn't hurt their family like this... would he? "How? How can this be possible? Kahli said... the bond..."

"I took so long to pry the information from my mother, but eventually she caved. She said she was given the honour of being a donor for the Empire." Her tail had enough strength slap at Zizi's hand. Catching her landing, Grievous' scowl deepened. "I was disgusted by this revelation. All my friends and allies had fathers they knew. Father's they loved. I never did. What more, I was born a freak, one of hundreds from a test tube." The last two words held undeniable malice in her voice, the seriousness of the matter dripping from every word.

Zizi's knees buckled and she hit the ground hard. The Zemlja was in shock. The girl had no reason to lie. There was evidence enough by her appearance. Judging by the girl's age, this happened years ago. This was a plan of Zannah's and Kahli was her pawn. She was angry and hurt by Zannah using her husband for personal gain, but also at Kahli for allowing Zannah to use him. There was no way Kahli would be manipulated so easily. Zannah had to have something on him. Yet still... did he even try to fight this? Hundreds... hundreds of them... so this was not just a one-time occurrence. Zannah had been doing this experiment of hers for a long while now.

"I... didn't know..." Zizi's voice was so soft, the dragons barely heard her.  

Grievous leaned down to grab Zizi by the collar. Clearly, she had not known, but she still needed answers out of this little woman. "Where is he?"

Kahli had been making his way back from work early. He worked extra hard to come back home to his wife as to help her prepare in celebration for their son's birthday. Manaco was a bright man, and his father was so proud of all his accomplishments. He arrived with a crate of fresh milk he loved, hoping to have time to wrap it in paper. What he saw next shattered any and all current plans.

In his house was a Waku girl. He wasn't a fool. Kahli knew what this meant. This was the end to his longest and darkest kept secret. When he saw this girl grab his wife by the collar, however, Kahli snapped into action. Swiftly leaping into action, he grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, throwing her back off his wife.

"---!!! You---!!!"

She didn't get to finish her surprise as Kahli brought his palm forward, breaking her nose. With the next strike, he delivered a swift kick to her chest, sending her rolling backwards down his front steps and onto the dirt road. "Leave my house. And never return. You bring danger to us all by coming here. I don't know you, and you don't know me. Try anything other than leaving, and I will turn you into ash." Kahli was dark, cold, and unkind in his words to this girl. Before she could answer back, he shut the door on her. Might have a minute or two as she got the wind back in her sails to check on his wife. Carefully, Kahli turned to Zizi, feeling the weight of his sins crawl down his back and sit on his chest as his hands carefully rested on her shoulders. "Zizi… did she hurt you?"

Zizi was still processing what just happened. A girl, no... Kahli's daughter had shown up on the doorstep. He had a part in this. He had to be willing. What was she thinking? Kahli always ran to Zannah like a lost puppy whenever she called. He missed birthdays and holidays. He'd leave suddenly and then return. When did she go so blindly in love that she refused to see it anymore? Kahli's loyalty was never to her, it was to Zannah. Any order the Empress gave, he'd carry out in a heartbeat. All those years ago when the two of them visited with Malik and Asakoniegei, he had even gone so far as to defend Zannah's actions. The Zemlja tried her hardest to find a way to rationalize an excuse, but... she could not find one. It was a soul-crushing sensation which now weighed on her. Good spirits, what would her children think? Not only was she heartbroken over this revelation, but her babies... oh, sweet spirits, they would never look at Kahli the same again. Her family would never be the same again...

"No... she didn't." Zizi then looked up at him with absolute rage in her eyes. "But you're going to hurt."

With a massive blast of magical energy, Zizi shot Kahli through the front door, across the flower garden, and slammed him into the statue in the middle of the fountain.

Grievous was rising from the ground, finally catching her breath, when Kahli was sent flying outwards. His foot caught her in the head, cutting her temple and sending her crashing back into the ground.

Kahli didn't fight back as Zizi raised her hands to rocket him away. He knew that he deserved her anger, her hatred. The door was hard enough against his back to smash through, and he didn't know what he hit on the way to the statue, but upon crashing into it, he suffered six broken ribs upon impact, as well as his left arm snapped in two. With awful breathing, he took on water as he tried to keep his head a float.

"You... how could you?!?!" Zizi tromped out of the house, her anger causing prickly thorns and massive vines to rise from the ground. The magic swirled violently around her being, green sparks shooting through the air. This was the first time that Kahli would ever sense such rage from his wife. "I gave you my heart and my soul! A family, a home, I saved you and loved you and this is how you repay me?!"

Kahli took a solid minute to pick himself up from the fountain, only able to lean his body on the outer ring. "I didn't stop loving you. I provided for our family. I understand your anger... but this? I've never... struck any of you."

"You think that is an excuse for your infidelity?!" Zizi nearly shrieked at him. "That is your fucking daughter that showed up on my doorstep! And by the looks of it, she's fully grown! That, and she told me she has hundreds of brothers and sisters?!" She then told him, "Hit you!? You're lucky that I don't castrate you!!! You liar! You cheater!"

"I NEVER FUCKED ANYONE!" For that yell, Kahli's felt a bile of iron rise up his throat and trickle out his mouth. "Zizi… gods. It's complicated. But she's not my daughter."

"I don't care if you fucked a cow! That is your daughter! There's no denying those eyes, Kahli!" Zizi screeched. "You think I'm stupid?! I don't care how complicated it is, the bottom line is, you have other sons and daughters out there that were grown in test tubes and utilized for Zannah's benefit! After all this time, you still chose her and not me?! Not our family?! Spirits, when did I ever become so foolish to believe that one day, you'd chose us over duty to the Empire?!"

"I didn't choose jack shit. My sons and daughters are my fifteen children with you. They... they may be children, but they are not my children."

"Now you're just deluding yourself." Zizi scoffed with tears running down her face. "Don't bother coming home. You're not welcome anymore." She then wiped at her cheeks and sniffled, walking back to her house. Along the way, she saw the young girl staring at her. Whether it was awe, fear, or a mixture of both, Zizi did not know. Yet, the girl did not deserve her hatred or angry. Offering a hand, she helped her to her feet. "You, however, may come in."

Grievous looked back and forth between the two. At the invitation, she was taken aback. "Why?"

"Because you've done nothing wrong." Zizi told the girl quietly. "You don't deserve this."

Grievous looked to the bitter husk of her father seeking to pull himself out of the fountain, yet struggling to do so. Quirking an eyebrow at Zizi, she asked a question that was simply that. "What if I came all this way to kill him?"

"Wouldn't it be better to let him suffer?" Zizi's voice sounded cold. "Death might be too easy according to Waku traditions."

"Him? He's survived worse." Zizi then instructed Ari'phompha. "Take him to the healers. Leave him there and don't brign him back here." Ari'phompha carefully picked up Kahli within her large claws and flew him in the direction of the Dusa's hospital. "You have questions. I have answers. Come inside."

“No. I have questions for him and him alone. Ask them to bring him back. I’ll heal him.”

"No. You want to talk to him, you go to him." Zizi used her magic to grow a makeshift door out of the ground since she blasted off her other one. "He's not coming back in here. If you want to go talk to him, he's that way."

“Do you not have same questions I do?”

"He lied to me. I no longer trust his words." Zizi was trying to keep her voice from trembling. "I don't care for answers."

“I do. I will never get close to him again if you send him away. Please.” Grievous felt suddenly woozy, sitting down on her porch.

"... you got knocked pretty hard, didn't you?" Zizi bent down to look at the bruise on the girl's head. "Worry about yourself first. Stay right there, I'll get you some ice." Within a few moments, she returned with a bag of ice and handed it to the daughter of Kahli. "Keep it against your forehead."

“What is this?”

"It's an ice pack. To help against the sting of pain."

“What’s ice? It’s cold.” Grievous frowned, throwing the pack away. “I don’t like tricks.”

"Hey, missy!" Zizi picked up the ice pack and held it to the girl's head herself. "You're going to hold it right there to keep the area from swelling so much, whether you like it or not." She scolded her, the motherly side getting the best of her. "It's not a trick. It's ice. My sister can make it. Keep it there until I find the kit, are we clear?"

Grievous rose her hands, ready to punch, yet slowly started to calm down as the ice eased her head. “I don’t have ‘ice’ where I live... I will stay if you feed me and Sylvain.”

"... you're lucky that I'm known to feed just about anyone." Zizi helped the girl to her feet and steadied her as she walked inside the house. "And your name again?"

“Grievous. It’s a Dal name.” She frowned, her anger suddenly starting to melt the ice into water.

"Grievous. Mind if I call you Grivy for short?" Zizi then placed a plate full of leftovers in front of the young girl. "Baked honey salmon, grilled asparagus, and cream corn. Eat up, sweetheart. You've traveled a long way."

“That’s not very serious...” The teenager didn’t push her nickname further though. Being offered salmon she tried to not let her mouth water. “Fish please. Do you have a bathroom with a mirror?”

"My name is Zizi, that's about as far as serious as you can get." She instructed, "Down the hall, to the left. It's the blue door. You can't miss it. Don't take too long, your food will get cold."

Grievous made her way to the bathroom per instruction. Quickly grabbing a towel, she cleaned up the blood that had trickled down her face.  Once she stopped the blood trial, using only a finger, she burned her wound shut with a searing fire. Even she was not able to keep herself from screaming profoundly.

The scream caught her off guard. Zizi rushed to the bathroom to find the door lock.

"Hey young lady! You open this door, right now! What's wrong?! Don't make me take it down!"

She finished yelling in her own language, finally calming down. “I’m fine. Just cleaning up the wound.” Opening up a pouch she carried at her side, the girl reapplied her war paint. Needed to keep up appearances in unknown territory. Be scary before being nice.

Since Zizi was a Zemlja, she simply swung open the wood door with her magic.

"You're going to get it infected."

“I know what I’m doing. Burned it close.”

"And it can still get infected, goodness, why did you put that paint back on your face?" Zizi took a rag from the cabinet and soaked it with warm water. She also pulled out a jar of aloe and medical herbs to use as a paste over the wound area. "There's no going to war around here, no one will harm you. You're completely safe---stop squirming. You're worse than Manaco when he was little. This might sting a little." After she had removed a good portion of the paint, she applied the paste. "There. Now it will heal twice as fast and keep bacteria out."

Her face was a fine light red, with brown rustled hair all over. She struggled at first of course, but eventually simply froze as Zizi went to work on her. Her tail smacked the woman as she applied the paste. “That hurts. And my paint is a symbol of courage and my rage.”

"... do you really think that this paint means anything around here?" Zizi placed an adhesive on top of the paste to keep it there for the rest of the day. "Look, it's peaceful here. You don't need to fight. So, come back in the kitchen, eat, and I'll answer what I can and you answer what you can. Sound fair?"

“I wear it for my preparation with Kahli. It’s... its part of my heritage as a Dal.” She sulked, sadly applying more paint. She wanted to cover her fear and insecurities. “It gives me a mask of protection. I’ll join you soon.”

"... then only on half of your face, away from the bandage. Or I'm cleaning it off again." Zizi returned to the kitchen and sat down with a hard thump on her chair. She sighed, her shoulders sagging as she ran a hand back through her hair. This was never going to go away... there were more children of Kahli's out there. Hundreds more... she wanted to yell and scream and cry... but what good would it do?

When Grievous returned to the kitchen to take her seat, half of her face was appeared tame, docile even. With no paint, she had small scratches on her face, but was rather petite. On the other half she tried to detail the terror in the skull factor. “Is Sylvain being fed?”

"I asked the other dragons to take Sylvain to the stable." Zizi tapped the side of the head. "We have a mental link, so we don't need to talk face to face like this. Sylvain is gorging on fish and dried jerky."

“Good.” The Waku leaned forward over the table, even her unpainted side pulling off a mean look. “Who exactly is my father? Don’t think of today. What kind of man is he that you know of him?”

"Kahli... he's..." Zizi was not expecting such a question. She took a breath to steady her nerves. Even though she tried to keep her voice from shaking, it was difficult. "I-I... I met Kahli over 25 years ago in one of my greenhouses. That day, he was hurt and running from enemies. I helped him and... he's been at my side ever since. He's a great father and does his best to look after everyone he cares about. He works very hard on the plantations and provides for many people with his job. Despite having harsh beginnings with my brother-in-law, he has done his best to mend that relationship." She swallowed thickly, blinking back tears. "He always said he loved me, but... I can't trust him anymore. He... he cares more about following orders than he does his family and I was a fool not to see it sooner." Zizi took a napkin and wiped at her cheeks. "Sorry, I... this is a lot to take in."

“Following orders is the way of a Hasai. It’s like this mental string.” She tapped at her own forehead. Stopping, she studied this sad woman. “How much did he love you? Your family? Was he a good man?”

"Kahli loved me enough to stay here in Hyrule. To give me a family, to help raise his family, to protect his family... nearly panicked when I hemorrhaged giving birth to our triplets. To leave his life of duty for the Empire behind... so I thought." Zizi looked so... so defeated. She felt like she had not only lost her husband, but her whole foundation of trust. "He... he is a good man... was a good man... but... I just can't trust him after this." She told her, "Grivy, Lorleidians feel a pull of magic to their soulmate. It's not based on attraction or lust, it's just... you look at that person and you can't imagine life without them. It's rare, but it happens with Lorleidians. It happened with me." The Zemlja then said, "But when trust is broken... when secrets are kept... it brings nothing but pain. And some wounds just never heal."

“How many children do you have with him? Who are the offspring more important than I?”

"More important?" Zizi placed a hand on Grivy's shoulder. "You are no more or no less important than my children. Everyone has worth." She then added, "And to answer your question... I have fifteen children. Five sons and ten daughters."

“But I wasn’t good enough for him, now was I.” Grievous took a bite from the food presented to her. Was lukewarm by this point. “They probably are perfect. His hand-crafted biological children.”

"I don't know the whole story, Grivy, so I'm a bit in the dark too. Though Kahli kept this secret from me, he shouldn't be cruel to you either." Zizi sighed and then told the girl. "I love my children, but all of them have their flaws. Manaco is too impatient like his father. Ahusaka is a perfectionist. Keira hates last minute surprises... I could go on. But I do know he loves them."

“I’m one of 660 clones more or less. I’m supposed to be raised as a soldier for the Grand army of the Kikai Empire... they sound like people who received individual care.”

"... it figures Zannah was trying to formulate a plan to increase her army. She's obsessed with power." Zizi felt her temper flare, cause the table to begin to sprout thorns. "That... that bitch manipulating my husband..."

The girl rested her fork on the table, silent for a long time. “The Emperor is God to the Hasai. To oppose her will is nigh impossible. I like to fight, I like adventure, but to be an iron clad soldier? I wanted my personal freedom. To be a warrior for my own battles. I’m one of the only Waku to think this way though. I might be the only one.”

"She's a damn mortal, don't believe her lies. If she bleeds, she can die. The true immortals are in the heavens. To try to copy their design is blasphemy." Zizi told Grivy firmly. "She might be the ruler of the Hasai Empire, but she's just that. Another ass on a throne. To treat her own people as nothing more than pawns for her benefit is abuse." She held Grivy's hand. "Even if you are the only one who thinks this way, you are allowed to think this way. You are your own person. You decide what you want. Not someone else." Zizi took a breath and then added, "And until you decide what you want for your life, you are welcome to stay here."

Grievous didn’t know what to think at first to that. While formulating an answer, her attention was grasped by something. Grabbing a knife, she hid behind a couch. “Someone is coming. Hide.”

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait just a minute, that's probably just one of my kids!!!" Zizi hurried after Grivy. "They all know how to get into the---"

"Mom?" Keira walked in, seeing her mother hovering over a stranger. "... what are you doing?"

“You can’t take me back!” All Grievous saw was another Waku ready to take her to the Empire. With a roar like a panther she leapt to pin Keira.

"WAIT!" Zizi grasped Grievous by the tail and ended up sailing forward with the stranger. It was the maternal instinct to protect her own child, but the forethought of not harming Grivy either. Keira yelped and managed to jump out of the way. Yet the tail grab resulted in Grivy and Zizi both ending up on the floor. Zizi fell on top of Grivy, and Grivy's face met the floor. Muffled by the girl's back, Zizi grumbled, "I said to wait. Some of my kids live here too besides me, you know. I'm not that old."

"Uh... Mom? Are you okay?" Keria helped her mother to her feet as well as the stranger. She then sniffed Grievous and looked perplexed. "You smell... familiar. Have we met?"

"... sweetie... let's just say you're in for a long story." Zizi told her daughter with a sigh. "And your dad is in the doghouse."

Grievous gave out a shrill scream as her tail was yanked, not exactly thrilled to eat the floor again. Getting up, she locked eyes with Keira, slowly backing away. This woman was much older. She must have been a threat.  

"What did Dad do this time?" Keira thought it was one of the usual nuisances that made her mother mad. "Did he eat all your ingredients for a strawberry cake again?"

"No, he..." Zizi had to swallow her emotions again. "Keira. This is Grievous. Your sister."

"...? Huh?" Keira really looked confused now. "Sister? But... how can that be? The bond prevents Dad from---"

"Zannah made him give... donations from what Grivy told me."

"...?!?! What?! But she's... that had to be years ago!"

"I know. And he didn't tell me or anyone else."

Grievous stepped away from Keira a little further. “Are you the eldest daughter of Kahli?”

"I am..." Keira was still processing the situation. Her father had other children out there. Exactly how many? Why did he let this happen? Oh, spirits, how was Manaco going to take this? This was... was bad. Very bad. "I have nine sisters and five brothers. I... um..." She was more like Zizi in the sense of viewing this was not Grivy's fault. The newcomer did not ask to be placed in this situation. "I guess... it's not too bad to have another sister. We already outnumber the boys, so... that's a good thing." She then paused and thought for a moment before asking. "What did Dad think of this?"

"I don't care what he thinks," Zizi returned to her seat at the dining table. "I put him in the hospital so he's going to stay there for a little while."

"The hospital?! Mom, what did you do?"

"What do you think I did?" Zizi retorted as if it was obvious. "I kicked his ass for lying to me."

"... I don't know what to say." Now, Keira really appeared to be shocked. Her mother did not have a violent bone in her body. She hardly ever raised her voice even, but here, she was admitting to attacking her dad?! "Is he... dead?"

"No, he's not dead, but he's going to wish he was if he comes crawling back here." Zizi told her daughter. "If you go to see him, he's not welcome here anymore. He can stay with Manaco if he wishes."

"... you're not going to talk to him?"

"Not right now. I lashed out... and you know a Zemlja can be deadly if we wish it so."

"I know, Mom... I just... I can't believe Dad did such a thing."

"You know how many times Zannah called him and he followed like a puppy."

“No one can defy the will of the Emperor.” Grievous immediately reflected, knowing the hypocrisy of that statement. “Not for long...” Looking back to Keira, the teenager started to tiptoe around her. “You are the eldest of our generation then. Chief female... you look soft.”

"The Emperor can kiss my shiny brown ass."

"Mom!"

"I was a good friend to her, Keira, you know it, and she was laughing behind my back all this time."

"We'll figure this out eventually." Keira then jolted when Grievous started to circle her, as a predator would a prey. "Soft? I... um... is that a compliment or an insult? I assure you, I can fight, Dad taught me how. I'm a Vatra, though Urboro and Miku are both Zemljas."

“Vatra?” Grievous was nearly to the door, still eying Keira like the older woman was going to snap her in two.

"I use fire. Mom uses earth." Keria explained to Grievous with a smile. "It's a Lorleidian trait! Come, I'll show you what I mean." And, like Zizi, Keira was the bubbliest of her siblings. She also had that sixth sense about others. While Keira could tell that Grivy was hurt, confused, and angry, she was also afraid. That had to be redeemed. She simply took Grievous' hand and walked out the front door. "Mom, I'll be back with Grivy in a bit, I'm going to show her the community. Then, she won't be too afraid."

"Very well, make sure you don't stay out too late. Your younger siblings will be home from school soon enough, and you promised to take them dragon riding today." Zizi was starting to thank the spirits for everyday normalcy. At least it kept her mind off this... this betrayal. "And don't tell them about your father. I'll explain it to them myself later."

"As you say."

Grievous was shocked, being so quickly pulled along. “Where are you taking me? I am not afraid.”

"To the plantations! Every single type of Lorleidian works there, as well as some Hylians, Gorons, Moblins, Goblins, a few Hasai, and even dragons!" Keira knew she had to make the best of the situation. While her mother was hurting, and she herself was upset, she had to remain strong. Not only for her mother, but for her siblings too. "I'll introduce you and you can see how we work."

“You said you’d show me your fire.” Grievous had enough, pulling away to stand her ground. “I see no strategy in getting to see your plantation.”

"I figured you'd want to meet a few more of your siblings and see our close knit community." Keira shrugged her shoulders. "It'd be fun. We can always stop by the Lon-Lon Ranch for ice cream! They just introduced a new flavor called blackberry lemonade! I can't wait to try it!" She then added, "But my fire isn't like my father's fire... well, not exactly." She held out her hand and a flame flickered to life in her palm. "Since I'm half Lorleidian, my magic is a little more stable."

“I... no. No! I did come here to meet a family I do not know.” The teenager felt dreadfully confused, knowing she was losing track of her purpose. She pointed her finger at Keira’s flame. “And do all of you lack passion in your flame?”

"Why not? They'd want to meet you." Keira told Grivy honestly, having no reason to lie. "That's how Lorleidians are. We take care of our own and those we call family and friends." She glanced at her flame and then back at Grivy. "Passion? Oh, I can do a lot more than this, I just didn't want to show off. My brothers do that enough."

“You are not proud of your fire? You are not proud of the flame that burns within? I am Grievous! Waku of Hasai and Dal combined.” The teenager felt her time was being wasted with her half-sister. She wanted her to see with her own eyes that this younger woman could be taken seriously. With each hand, Grievous lit a blazing bone fire in each hand. In the right, a green flame. The left, a blue flame. With a little dance, she brought both hands together to fire lightning into the air, making an explosion of fireworks of blue and green. “Look and feel my passion. You will take me seriously, or you can step down as eldest to Kahli. I do not care for your cream made of ice. I will not be tricked. Now I demand you reply in kind.”

"Goodness, you don't know how to just... chill, do you? Or even have fun?" Keira felt sorry for the girl. Knowing Zannah, this half-sister of hers was raised to be nothing but a solider. "You don't get it, do you? Rank? Being the best? That's not what gets attention here. What gets attention here isn't passion or fighting or even having the most power. Here, we simply love each other for who we what. Not what we can do." Keira gently took Grivy's hands, and then closed her eyes. There was suddenly a ring of fire surrounding them and circled higher and higher, toward the sky. The two of them were standing inside a vortex of flames. She then opened her eyes, glowing a soft yellow. "I have passion, like you asked. Though here, there's no need to use such unless we are protecting who we love."

Grievous looked up, her yellow eyes wide with wonder. She didn’t look away for a moment, wanting to capture it in her mind forever. “Passion is not tied to battle. Or ranks. It’s not wanting to be the best. Passion is wanting to do your best. Passion is being the most serious about your abilities and drive. Passion is your art form. Keira. You have a dazzling fire. I truly believe you are my blood.”

Slowly, the vortex started to sink to the ground and disappear.

"Then I have plenty of passion. Though, I'm more like my mother in the sense of fighting; I don't like to fight unless I have to." Keira explained to Grievous. "You shouldn't have to fight unless you want to as well. You're not a pawn, you're just you. You're special just the way you are." She then sighed and said, "And I'm really sorry for... well... all of this. I had no idea. My mother didn't either. I think... we're all pawns in Zannah's game somehow. But now, that you're here, you can stay with us for a while if you don't want to return to the Empire."

“In my experience, to fight is to battle. To battle is to throw your all into a cause. The Empire is highly restrictive on who you can battle against. It is not my own battles I fight for, but the Empires. That is why I risked deserting my platoon. It is why I came here, to seek answers on my bloodline. I seek to battle our father if we must.” The teenager examined Keira up and down, wondering if she could take her in a skirmish. “Do you like to spar? Still an activity of strength, yet does not have the same stress of battle? How about to fish or hunt wild game?”

"Oh, my siblings and I spar almost everyday. I'm not big on fishing, cause ew, worms. But I do go hunting." Keira told Grivy with a grin. "Dad insists, but I'm curious. Why do you want to fight my---I mean, our father?"

“I want him to feel the sting of defeat. He is a legendary whisper amongst the Waku. I wish to test if he’s a legend, or merely a whisper.” Grievous squeezed her right hand into a righteous fist. “I would make him proven wrong to look down on me.”

"Uh... how did he do that?" Keira wanted clarification. "Look down on you? Wait, did he come to like... see you, years ago or something? Or no? Sorry, I don't have all the details."

“He must have. We’ve never met him. Some of us never had any father figures. He claimed we are not his children. Yet he had love for you, didn’t he? What makes you so different?” The look Grievous gave Keira was burn in her eyes. There was a great hatred, but also a terrible pain.

"... my mother." Keira admitted to Grievous with a small frown. "His love for my mother makes him love me since I am part of her. But... even though I love my father, he shouldn't deny you just to try to appease my mother. That's not right."

Grievous kicked the dirt, turning her back on Keira. “Her? That little woman? What’s so great about her? The fact she can nearly obliterated him in one magical torrent, while I am thrown out like trash in my first interaction with the man?”

"... the fact that she loved him when no one else would." Keira said very softly. "Dad didn't have... the greatest of upbringings. He has his faults and flaws, though... Mom saw past that and chose to love the man. Not the Hasai."

“What is so wrong with being Hasai?” The tone Grievous spoke was not one of being offended, but in fact as if she knew the answer. “Is he a good father to you?”

"... I think you know, Grivy. You see how Zannah treats you, what she did to our Dad." Keira then nodded her head. "He was very good to me. Never laid a hand on me. Taught me right from wrong. To try to see the good in others even though we might not care for them. And to always be there for each other. He wanted a family because he never had one growing up where he felt loved."

The Waku’s tail wagged aggressively about, not liking the story of hearing Kahli be so loved, and loving in return. “I don’t belong with the rest of you then.”

"Why not? What makes you so sure?" Keira used logic. "Dad thought he didn't have a place here. Mom proved him wrong."

“You think I can prove Kahli wrong? He broke my nose!” She pointed at her still bruised face.

"... my aunt proved her husband wrong. He broke her ribs and she busted his nose." Keira pulled Grivy in for a hug. "And so what if you can't prove him wrong? You proved me right. Wait, that came out... feh, you know what I mean."

When Grievous was hugged, she heated up with the force of a radiator. “What is this? Pity? You hug me because you’re older and feel sad for me?”

"No, I hug you cause well... you look like you've never been hugged. Like a real hug." The heat did not bother Keira. She could absorb it and store the magic later. "Why would I feel sorry for you? You're obvious still here. You didn't give up."

“I don’t know what to make of you.” Grievous broke free from the hug, opting to sit on a park bench. “I’ve decided to wait here for Kahli. I care not for your ice flavoured cream.”

"Good, I like to keep people guessing." Keira then asked. "Are you sure? I was going to introduce you to your other brothers and sisters."

“No. I don’t want to meet them. I don’t care about you. I don’t care about any other children. I just want to fight Kahli and force him to answer all my burning questions. Now go away.” Grievous closed her eyes tightly, trying to push her growing frustrations away.

"... if you need a familiar face, I'll be in Greenhouse #9." Keira decided not to push Grivy further and headed in the right direction for work.

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/610964435241140224/burnt-heart-ch-1-the-emperors-will

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/611455983362949120/burnt-heart-ch-3-breach-of-trust

Crossover with @ridersoftheapocalypse. 

*whispering* solavellan sex on the Normandy

ANON. I don’t even know if you’re still out there, I’m pretty sure you sent this like a year ago, but I want you to know that I have been working on this prompt ever since you sent it!!!

Fun fact #1: I have never played any of the original Mass Effect games.

Fun fact #2: I had so much reading about them and watching videos and concocting headcanons that I accidentally put more energy into that than into smut?

(I’m sorryyyy I hope it was worth the wait if you are still out there)

@dadrunkwriting

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions (Slots currently open as of 10/4/19)

Pairing: Solavellan

Rating: Mature/Explicit (it’s right on that line - sexual content but not a lot and not the most explicit I have ever done)

********************

Solas was fairly certain that the new soldier Commander Shepard had brought on board the Normandy SR-2 was doomed to be just like all the others - more brawn than brain, all muscle and no substance. He tried not to let it matter to him too much. He was here to take advantage of Cerberus’s technology and resources to further his own research into biotics. Everything else was window dressing.

In the case of the new soldier, the window dressing simply happened to be rather striking.

She had skin like mahogany, and red, tightly curled hair worn in a flat top hair cut, and eyes like steel. Her name was Ellana Lavellan, and she was the first person to pull him out of the tight cocoon of his lab - really, out of the tight cocoon he’d woven around himself - in years.

“You know, I was under the impression that our doctor was a salarian,” she said when she first wandered in one day.

“I am neither a doctor nor a salarian, as you can see,” he said, gesturing at the insignia that designated him as a scientist. “You are thinking of Mordin Solus. His quarters are next door. My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.”

She laughed, and it was a surprisingly musical laugh. He wasn’t sure why he expected all soldiers to be gunmetal and grim looks. She was off duty, and in a tank top that bared her toned arms. He took in her pointed ears. He’d known from her name, of course, that they shared at least a race in common. It had been many centuries since their people were considered a separate but lesser species on the planet called Thedas, but there was still a twinge of happy recognition at the sight of her. Every other member of this crew whose ancestors hailed from Thedas was human. There might be some commonality between them, at least, if they were both elves.

Then again, as she sauntered around the lab, her head cocked in curiosity, he saw the tattoo marking the upper part of her back. Three long, arched branches that likely continued all the way down to her hips. She was likely of Dalish descent then. Or, worse, one of the people who got such tattoos and had no idea what they meant.

Solas ducked his head, returning to the readout on his omnitool.

“Well, you have to admit it is confusing. Solus, Solas. What are you doing?”

She was leaning on his workstation. She smelled like gun oil. Usually people backed away by this point, put off by his arch manner. Why hadn’t she?

“Testing this new implant for Commander Shepard,” he said.

“Interesting. You’ll have to explain how it works to me, sometime. When are you off duty?”

That was how she did it in the end, how she drew him out - she was relentless. Like a hunter on a trail with everything to lose. Except she, like him, had nothing to lose. Her parents were long dead - victims of the same slaver raid on Mindoir that had taken Shepard’s own parents, apparently that was how they knew each other - and she had struggled to find a place for herself since then. She’d been in the Alliance military (another connection with their esteemed commander, who Solas had to admit was growing on him too) but left that life behind, hoping for a new start, only to be drawn back into danger once more. The Illusive Man had given Solas no reason to believe that the Normandy SR-2 would be an easy mission, but he was still surprised by the level of violence they encountered - by the bruises and blood he saw on Ellana whenever she passed his lab on her way to Mordin’s, needing healing.

“I thought you were a sniper,” he chided her after one particularly bad episode. He was holding her left wrist, examining a burn that radiated up the inside of her left arm.

“I am,” she said. “And I thought you were a scientist, and not a doctor.”

He had not asked to take her hand, to examine her. He dropped it. But she just reached out and touched his hand - a touch that burned, that brought back memories, that made him remember just how long it had been since he had been touched. He shivered and he knew Ellana saw it. Solas had been living under masks for years now. He knew she saw through them all.

“I’ll be okay,” she said. “I promise.”

*

He only had the privilege of watching Ellana fight once. Shepard was a formidable biotic herself, and rarely brought other biotics on her missions. But when they went in pursuit of someone called Archangel, she said she wanted the backup.

“I’d also like a measure of stealth,” Shepard went on. “And Jack is, well -”

“Not subtle?” Solas said, dryly.

“Very diplomatic. We’ll bring Lavellan, too.”

Solas tried to ignore the little thrill that ran through him at the thought. He wasn’t successful.

She was a wonder with her rifle. Swift, silent, precise, powerful. She made shots he would have thought impossible, covered him and Shepard with an instinctive ease and tactical awareness. He watched her when he could. He may have even been staring.

“See something you like, Solas?” She asked.

Precise as one of her bullets, blunt as a mallet, and her smile was so sly, and Shepard was distracted by the turian that turned out to be Archangel. Garrus Vakarian, no doubt, if Solas’s research was to be believed.

“Watching you was - impressive. You move differently than any other soldier I have seen. Almost as if it is a dance.”

Ellana slung her rifle over her back and leaned against a wall, her grey eyes alight.

“Are you implying that I am graceful?”

“I am declaring it.” The words slipped out before he could consider them, and that was the danger, wasn’t it, of stepping outside his cocoon, his lab, his routine?

“I was equally impressed by you,” Ellana said. “Your biotics - it’s like it’s totally natural for you.”

He shrugged, pretended he was not complimented, that her words did not light him up from the inside out. “Elves generally take to it better than other Thedosians. Have you read any of the theories that our people were once like asari, with similarly long lives and control over our nervous systems that produced effects so startling they were once called magic?”

Ellana looked away, rubbing the back of her neck. “I was too busy being a dumb grunt to read stuff like that. But I’ve heard of it a little. Maybe you could explain more sometime?”

“Of course.”

*

It was soft and easy after that, except for when it wasn’t, when they talked about her Dalish heritage, her fierce belief that there was something important about sticking to traditions, even if there was little basis in fact for them.

“Of course my tattoos aren’t what made me an adult,” she retorted one day. “But getting them made me feel connected to something bigger than myself. Is that really so bad?”

“But the implications that they were once -”

“Oh, fuck the implications, Solas. I’m tired of the implications. I live here, and now, and I was just trying to share something about myself with someone who I thought cared about me without it turning into a big fucking deal.”

Her voice rang against the metal walls of his lab. She appeared almost immediately ashamed of her anger. He’d noticed that about her too. That was his job. To notice things, gather intel, play the Illusive Man’s game long enough to figure out if it was true, if biotics were inherent to his race, if they could perhaps be made inherent once again, raising the status of all Thedosians in the Council’s eyes…

But so much of what he had been noticing lately was her.

“I am sorry,” he said. He reached out and touched her hand. He’d been getting used to that. Little touches.

Ellana Lavellan kissed him then, full on the lips, without even the slightest warning, and he was sitting on a stool and though she was a slight woman this made her a little taller than him, and he tilted his head back, let himself fall into the kiss, wrapped his arms around her and felt her warmth and life and just how much he wanted this. Wanted a life that was not just secrets and watching and never partaking.

Ellana pulled back, looked down at him.

“I hope that was okay,” she said. “You’re not going to report me to the commander for sexual harassment, are you?”

Solas kissed her again, hungrier this time, fingers digging into her muscles, the solid reality of her. The realest thing he’d felt in years.

“So you are tired of the implications, then?” he asked when they parted.

“Like I said,” Ellana grinned, sliding into his lap, straddling him. “Fuck the implications.”

*

Solas could not help himself, of course. He had to tell her that there were considerations. Well, fuck the considerations too, she’d said jokingly, but she respected his boundaries nonetheless. Because there were considerations. He knew more than even Shepard did. He knew that the supposedly disabled Collector ship they were headed to was a trap. He tried to tell Ellana not to go on that mission. To convince Shepard to bring Garrus instead.

“Don’t go soft on me. Besides - I have to beat Vakarian’s high score,” she said, and kissed him.

He knew that to the Illusive Man, all the people on this ship were merely pawns at play in a larger game. He had guessed at what that larger game might be. He had willingly chosen to be a bigger pawn in that game, to do the things the Illusive Man asked of him as long as he could continue his research. And he knew Ellana now - knew that she would not take any of this lightly, that she had a soldier’s sense of loyalty and honor, old-fashioned as the tattoos on her back.

And he knew that he wanted her in all the ways one person could want another. He knew with increasing clarity as time went on that he wanted her more than he wanted anything else.

But to turn his back now -

The formless shadow of what lay beyond the Omega-4 Relay loomed larger and larger, and in its shadow things grew clearer and clearer. Clear as Ellana’s grey eyes, clear as her perception of the world. They might not come back from this mission. And the Illusive Man would not care, not even if he lost one of his foremost biotics researchers, one of his best spies. And Solas’s work would not care if he was not there to finish it. He looked out at the vastness of space outside the Normandy and that thought grew clearer and clearer.

No one would care except for her.

So he went to her the night before they would make their last stand. Her room was small and cramped and her bed was even more small but she was alive in it, alive in her body, already stripped down to her simple training bra and standard issued underwear when he arrived and yet beautiful as any ancient nebula he’d ever seen.

“Are you sure?” she asked him, finding the buttons on his lab coat, undressing him, her eyes bright in the dark.

“I have never been more sure of anything than I am of you,” he said.

So he stripped off all the things that made her a warrior - the training bra, the briefs, the dog tags - and he stripped off all the things that made him a scientist, a spy - the lab coat and the gloves and every single mask - and he loved her. She was warm and firm beneath him and he slid between her thighs - lingered there a long time, just rocking back and forth, just kissing her, just feeling her, the silky drag of skin on skin - and there, in the darkness of space, he loved her, and she loved him. She rolled him over and took her turn on top, not pushing him inside her yet, not even asking him to touch her, to ease her own wet ache. She just felt, explored, touched.

And then when she did take him in her hand raise herself up, and sink back down on him, taking him within her - when she did lace both of her hands with his and pin them over his head as she rode him, as she kissed him - then she was so impossibly real, so impossibly alive, that Solas forgot of the possibility of death. There was only her, them, the light of distant stars, of his own biotics flaring.

“I love you,” she said, and from another woman’s lips it would have felt false to hear those words said when they were still joined, still making love. But this was Ellana, and Solas had watched her, and he knew she was nothing if not sincere.

“I love you,” he said, surrendering, bucking his hips up into her. “I love you, I love you -”

There were people walking down the hall outside - Taylor, Lawson, Tali, Thane, all on their way to some distraction or another, all of them waiting out the end like they were. They tried to fall silent, to move to a different position, each time they passed, and they wound up on the cold metal floor, cocooned in blankets, Solas on top of her this time, looking down at her, mesmerized, angling himself to make it good for her, so he would rub against her in all the right places, so he could watch her when she came, and she squirmed a hand between them to make it happen because she was nothing if not self-sufficient, but he did get to watch her, to feel her from the inside out as she came. Then he was gone too, wave after sweet wave, and it was all too much and too good.

“Hey,” she said in the aftermath, touching his cheek, drawing him back. “It’s okay, you know. It’s gonna be okay.”

He kissed her hand, pretended she was right, that the Omega-4 Relay was not on their horizon now. It was easier than it ever had been. The pretending. She made it easy, lying there in his arms in the nest they’d made on the floor. It was going to be okay. They would make it through the relay and what came after. They’d walk away from Cerberus, the Illusive Man, Shepard, together. They’d see what the world was like without all of those things, without masks. Together.

Solas slept, and waited for tomorrow.

Harry Potter Deity AU

If someone believed enough, it would come true.

Magic needed belief to come true, and what was prayer, what was faith but belief? Of course Harry Woke Up.

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It started off as a joke, like all things do before they turn too serious to be refuted as anything as a joke.

Harry had the most ridiculous and stupid luck in the Auror Department, which had its roots from when he’d accidentally elbowed their teacher on his first day and caused as bit of panic among the other trainees when it had caused the man’s nose to gush blood. To everyone’s astonishment, he didn’t get murdered on the spot, but got congratulated for his excellent reflexes.

Two missions with different squads resulted in him having to display that same ridiculous luck cemented things. It continued until he was no longer a trainee and an Auror captain.

“Dawlish, what’s that?” Harry asked, pointing to the mess beside his cubicle. It was an awful sight, filled with little pieces of parchment, odds and bobs, strings and even some blood.

“It’s a shrine,” Dawlish said with a smirk. “For Harry Potter, god of Luck.”

Something in Harry’s brain screeched to a halt.

“Say what?” he asked, pretty sure that his ears hurt.

“Harry Potter, god of Luck. Your Luck is pretty stupendous, Potter.”

At Harry’s disbelieving look, Dawlish intoned, “If you pray to Harry Potter, you can be sure of good luck in your missions. Pray to Harry Potter, and suddenly a malfunctioning toilet will be unclogged. Pray to Harry Potter, god of luck, who tips the balance. If he doesn’t like you, you’d have an awful day.”

It was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

“Dawlish, I don’t care about it,” he sighed, before looking around and roping a poor trainee to clean up the mess.

Harry should have been more specific in his instructions, because he just said get rid of it, not throw it away, or destroy it.

The Shrine, as it was titled, got moved to the trainee locker rooms and expanded until it had a full blown statue and an altar to put offerings in. This worked very well, because full-fledged Aurors usually avoided the locker rooms and this pretty much guaranteed that Harry would not discover it.

It was an inside joke among Aurors, and it was pretty harmless fun.

Except.

One day, Harry came back from St. Mungo’s limping. He had always healed fast, so he just credited it to his healing factor that he walked on that same day and had to give back his cane.

The cafeteria always had his favorite lemon tart and his lunch was always hot no matter how late it was. He credited it to having casted a more powerful heating charm than usual.

Then one day, a giant acromantula went rogue and had to be put down. Ron had the brilliant idea of exploding it, covering everyone in the vicinity. Except for Harry, who had a clean one foot radius where the slime simply avoided him.

“Really, Harry? You couldn’t have cast a shield charm on me too?” Seamus asked, exasperated.

Harry just smiled, helping in siphoning off the slime and the blood. He doesn’t say that his wand was nowhere near his hand and that he didn’t even think about shield charms. He didn’t freak out about it. After living the first seventeen years of his life as a Living Horcrux, strange things happening to him were par for course.

And then he started hearing them.

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Early morning riser that he was did not mean he was a morning person. Habit ingrained deep in him made him incapable of sleeping in.

This meant coffee. A lot of coffee.

He was in his third cup and feeling marginally more awake when he heard the voice in his head.

‘By Potter’s Luck, I will solve this case. If I do, I’ll sacrifice my lemon tarts and light some incense,’ the voice said angrily and desperately. It sounded like a young man on the verge of tears.

Harry did not choke on his cup of coffee, but that was only due to the exhaustion borne from thirty six hours of desk work.

He blinked several times and dismissed it as a hallucination.

At least, he consoled himself, even if I’m hearing voices again, they’re not talking about murdering and ripping and eating. Casting his mind to the first time he thought he was hearing voices, a young voice was indeed a vast improvement over a hungry basilisk.

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Knee deep into the archives and cross-referencing old cases to new ones, he heard another one.

This time, with his mind marginally more awake and being completely alone, Harry jumped when he heard a woman’s  voice going, ‘Harry Potter himself will keep me awake because if I fall asleep on this assignment, Dawlish is going to skin me alive.’

Harry dropped the report on the floor and groaned.

“Fuck this,” he muttered.

He closed his eyes and opened them to his Mental Palace. There was a letter on the desk he had fashioned on a whim and upon touching it, he knew what was happening.

Sarah Brown, Lavander Brown’s cousin. Fell ill to the flu last week and asked for an extension for all her desk assignments. Only finished half-way and asking for a miracle because she was so behind it wasn’t funny.

Harry opened his eyes in the real world and thought that while Sarah not falling asleep would be good, her finding all her references faster and getting even two hours of sleep would be better. He thought about it for a moment and found that yes, he could grant her that at least.

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Mentally controlling somebody’s luck, Harry found, was simple.

Controlling somebody’s luck where it didn’t affect everyone else’s was something else entirely.

Because luck was all over the place and there was absolutely nobody controlling it. Except for Harry.

He could direct it to do whatever he wanted and it was a bit terrifying to have this type of command over anybody.

He could make somebody trip and die. He could make a person win the lottery forever. He could also make them choke on their sandwich while eating.

Small, terrible things that he did not like to dwell on.

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Prayers drifted their way to him.

The more smoke involved, the faster it got to him. The more emotion, the louder he heard it. The more they believed, the more he felt the empathy and the need to answer.

There were, of course, repeat people who prayed to him. It took a simple matter of balancing their luck. Too much good and the Karma waiting on them would get bigger. It was merely allowing which bad luck he allowed that would not ruin their day too much.

Such as allowing a person’s shirt to be ruined but making them meet their potential love interest while they wept in the bathroom about the silk shirt.

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Harry didn’t even blink anymore when the next prayers he heard were from Hermione.

‘Harry James Potter, god of this so called Luck. Come here this instant.’ The voice was Hermione. The tone was Hermione. It was so clear that it almost felt like Hermione was standing behind him, about to twist his ears.

Probably god of luck or no, Harry was in no way ready to face Hermione Granger in a temper.

Mentally bracing himself, he apparated to where he felt pulled to and found himself face to face with his upset friend.

“Err, hi, Hermione. What can I do for you?” he asked, mentally wincing. He’s waiting for the ear twist. He’s prepared for it.

Instead, she groaned. “Merlin’s pants!” she shouted, stomping away from him. “I thought Ron was joking?”

He blinked at her in confusion, watching her dump tea leaves in a teapot and summoning the boiling hot water with a flick of her wand.

“What, Hermione?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I just lost a bet. Because Ron told me you’ve become some sort of minor deity for the aurors. And I told him it was absurd. Because gods don’t exist!”

Harry’s eyebrows have gone so high up his forehead. “You made a bet.” Against Ron, who was an Auror. Who, like all Aurors, had their lucks slightly balanced to the good side by Harry. Hermione, who worked in a desk, did not have such luck skewed slightly because he didn’t think she’d need it.

“Uhm..”

“And another thing,” Hermione continued without pause. “Did you know that Ron is using your blessing to find bargain sales? We have so many potion ingredients that were sold for half the price. We could start our own store if we want, we’d only need the capital to buy a spot in Diagon Alley or Hogsmead!”

She placed the tray in front of him. For the first time, he saw the worry in her face.

She touched his hands and he grasped it tightly.

“Are you alright, Harry?” she asked, voice going gentle in the rare moments when she thought he needed comfort. “Did. What happened to make you..?”

He smiled at her. “Its...well...You do know how our spells work, don’t you? If you believe it will work, and you have the will and the magic to make it work, then it will happen. That’s how accidental magic happens for children. Well...somehow, someone made a shrine.”

Hermione looked bemused. “And I take it people prayed,” she added for him. “It doesn’t...hurt you, does it?”

Harry shook his head. “No. Just. Sometimes, it’s distracting. I see a balance of scales for each person and a large one for the whole world.”

Finally, he shared something that’s been disturbing him for a while. “Did you know that the Lovegoods have the most weirdly balanced Luck scales I have ever seen?” his voice was almost plaintive.

Hermione laughed at him, and all was right in the world.

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.

Harry realized he needed to leave the Auror department when all those cold cases started getting solved, and that all crimes suddenly happened around Aurors, who had the full authority to do it.

A petty thief stole from Kingsley of all people and ended up getting caught. And then, in processing, they all realized he was also responsible for the murder of a dozen other wizards in the past three years.

It was alarming and Harry had to leave. He was unconsciously skewing things in the Aurors favour.

“Where are we going, mate?” Ron asked, because of course he left with Harry. Ron didn’t like being an Auror and only stayed for him.

Harry slumped against the wall, looking around the passersby hurrying in their grocery shopping.

“Guess we could make a store,” Harry said. He’s a bit disappointed, because he did want to help capture criminals. But if he stayed too long, people would start talking. “What kind, is my question.”

Ron smiled. “It’s us. We’ll figure it out, don’t you worry. And if you don’t have a plan, there’s always Hermione.”

Ron was the absolute best and Harry did not deserve his friendship.

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That’s all, folks!

If y’all have a title, I’d appreciate it because I have absolutely no title.