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headspace-hotel · 3 days ago
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i need to be working on finals but instead i spent my time reading the crustiest pdf of some guy's dissertation about canebrakes from the 1930s
was it actually accepted? is it a reliable source? does this guy know anything about plants? who knows. with river cane we gotta take everything we can get. this is INVALUABLE info, I can't believe it took me this long to find it. this guy talked to people who were born in the 1850's about their memories of canebrakes. I doubt these personal testimonies are documented anywhere else.
and... it's devastating! even from the viewpoint of someone in the 1930's, there had been a systematic extermination of the canebrakes, where the impenetrable and acres-big bamboo forests of memory only remained in distantly rural areas. The author talks about dozens of specific sites in different US states that used to have extensive and huge canebrakes but the river cane was completely obliterated from them.
The oldest records consistently state that Arundinaria gigantea or Rivercane would reach 30-40 feet in height and 3-4 inches thick. Many different early colonial sources speak of river cane this size. At the time of the author, the cane he visited was mostly 15-20 feet tall or so. Nothing compared to the giant canebrakes of the past, he keeps reminding us. And nowadays—almost 100 years after the time of that writing!—it is very rare to find river cane even 10-12 feet tall, it is crammed into tiny little areas at the edges of roadsides, and hardly anybody even knows an American bamboo ever existed
It even mentioned the area where my Mamaw grew up, saying that the place was once covered in miles of canebrake! Mamaw says that she always remembered cane along the river sides, but when we visited there a couple years ago, I didn't see any cane at all
there's SO many good facts and testimonies about river cane in there but i'm just shaken cause from the authors perspective, the river cane had been devastated to a small remnant of what it once was, but nowadays, it is devastated to a small remnant of what THAT was.
Some researchers are kicking around a theory that passenger pigeons and Carolina parakeets were dependent upon river cane, and that's why they went extinct. One guy i've talked to believes passenger pigeons could have been responsible for distributing the seeds (we still don't really know how river cane seeds distribute)
Apparently back when canebrakes were so common that there was cane producing seeds all the time (an incredibly rare occurrence now) they provided an incredibly valuable food resource for wild animals. In fact some of the colonial writings quoted say that once the canebrakes died off in a certain area, the wild game would disappear!
I'm starting to believe in the "canebrakes + passenger pigeons/Carolina parakeets" theory. It makes sense that practically eradicating a whole biome/habitat would cause something to go extinct, and the timeline and habitat associations are right.
I will NEVER be capable of shutting up about the canebrakes. Imagine if we did such a good job at exterminating the bison that today, almost no one in the USA even knew what a bison was.
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makingqueerhistory · 2 days ago
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":')))))))) you realise that gen AI is available to everyone though right??? Queer creators can use it just as much as anyone else??? I just don't understand this post... It really feels like a cheap way to get on the 'AI Bad's bandwagon, and coming from such a thoughtful and insightful creator that's incredibly disappointing... It's okay to not comment on subjects you're not an expert in y'know...?"
Y'all know the drill, I am replying to this publicly but that is not an invitation to send any negative messages to the person I am replying to.
Anyways, let me start by saying that the original context of the post you're replying to is discussing an event where a queer org used generative AI to steal an interview with Keri Hulme. So let's start there. To be clear I don't even know if the original interviewer was queer so let's put the identities of stealer and stolen from to the side. I want to explain the harm done in this example specifically and I hope this is illustrative of what harm generative AI can (and does) do.
The original place I saw generative AI was a queer org that explicitly says they are using generative AI "for good", and as a way to bring more queer history to light. So let's take them at their word, and assume they are not out to cause harm. This is the best example of generative AI that I can imagine, so I hope that makes it clear that I am not coming at this issue from bad faith in any way.
Here is the harm they are causing:
Decontextualizing and rephrasing an interview: I am not going to pretend that I am an expert in academic best practices, but I do believe one thing, if a person is speaking on their own identity and lived experience, it is always much better to directly quote than it is to rephrase. As I read this source, I initially didn't know that it was AI, and I was already upset. An interview that is widely available on the internet with no pay wall, was poorly sourced and made more vague than it was in the initial text. By creating one degree of seperation between the original words of A WRITER (whose literal job was largely based in choosing the right words to describe experiences they had) harm is already done. It makes vague what was once clear, and removes Keri Hulme's voice from her own narrative.
The original interviewer is not paid, or given proper recognition: I get it, sometimes just copy pasting an interview doesn't feel transformative enough, but something that one would learn if they worked in the queer history field and weren't a literal robot rehashing what has already been said, is that not everything needs to be transformed. In those cases, we give credit to the person who said the original words (in this case Keri Hulme), and the interviewer who facillitated the conversation (in this case Shelley Bridgeman). This case (again a best case scenario), takes the attention and byline away from the original interviewer and gives it to an AI.
The original publisher of this story is deinsentivised from paying interviewers in the future: The original publisher of this interview has ads on their website. As a person who also has ads on their website, taking an article like this and rephrasing it for no good reason (the orginal word count was not prohibitive and the rephrasing did not make it more readable), takes money from the publisher. It's pennies, but it's also removing numbers could have been used to justify further interviews with asexual people and archiving of asexual stories. The org that stole from this publication does not interview people themselves so the money and numbers that could have gone to continue to preserve asexual stories goes to stealing them instead.
These are just the active harms that I saw in this specific case. As you said, I am not an expert in generative AI, and will not be speaking as if I am. But I will say that asking me not to speak out on active harm that is being caused in queer history spaces, is disrespectful to my many years in this field.
To illustrate this even clearer: if you were a patron, you would know I recently took down an old article. I have been rereading and editing our backlist of articles, and I found one that no longer fit my standards of sourcing. My standards had recently raised due to a video made by HBomberguy about someone in the queer history space who was stealing from other creators. I watched this video not as a work project, but because I watch most of HBomberguys videos, and this one made me think more critically about sourcing. An AI can't do that. All an AI has is what has been inputted, and it is right now impossible to input every available peice of information about ethics into an AI and get a coherent ethical basis on which it will function.
It is a distinctly human trait to absorb information and change in that way. AI can rephrase information that already exists, steal it, recontextualize it even, but it cannot create something altogether new.
Do I believe that there one day might be an ethical use for Generative AI? Maybe. Do I believe that coming into a queer history space, stealing the words of a Maori asexual author, rephrasing them, and giving the original interviewer and publication no form of compensation for their work, is accomplishing that? No.
On a more personal note: I am coming at this issue with a bias. As a queer history creator, I do not want AI in my space, because it is literally damaging to my financial prospects. It has been like pulling teeth to try and get patrons in the current state of the global economy. I don't blame anyone from that, but I feel very disrespected that I am being asked to compete with a machine now. Not only that, but I am being asked to shut up and be fine with it? No, absolutely not. I cannot and will not stay quiet as space that I have fought tooth and nail to create in mainstream discussions is taken and given to AI.
AI was not supporting me when I was sent gore to try and scare me off of discussing queer history. A person did that. AI was not there to tell me I had written too many sad stories, and I needed some happy endings to remind myself of the good in the world. A person did that. AI was not there when I was being harrassed for supporting and including asexual stories on my website. A person did that.
And after all that, I am being asked to lie down and take it when my ability to pay the people who supported me in those ways, is being threatened. Nope. Not going to happen.
An AI doesn't have to make rent. An AI doesn't understand what it feels like to have to stop holding their wife's hand in public. An AI didn't get calls from people needing comfort in reaction to the election. Pay me for my work, and get this AI nonsense out of my face.
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veteratorianvillainy · 2 days ago
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I don't know if this would work for you (because I am obvs a random stranger on the internet), but for you or whoever else it might be relevant to:
The one place I've found a group that took this seriously is on Lex (social app geared towards queer events), where someone made a local arts and crafts group for my very suburban, fairly conservative neighborhood with the goal of creating a group that would come craft together outside. We're in SoCal so it's been too hot recently for outdoor meetings, but even in my area, there's about a dozen of us in the group and there aren't any kinds of requirements to create a group.
Obvs not a one-size-fits-all solution, but may be helpful for someone out there.
Thanks, Anon!
-submit your poll!-
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rafeysangelbaby · 3 days ago
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How Bambi!reader met Rafe...
trigger warnings!!: religious trauma, parent death, rafe just being a perv in general, innocence kink, coercion, i think thats all but please message me if there is more!!
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at least your truck beats walkin'...
You meet Rafe in mid-october, the sun shining through the patterns of trees as you rode down the dirt path towards the old Angels oak tree. It had been your favorite place since you were little. you had fond memories of mama bringing you down here for lunch on days where your father got real busy with work. Now, with momma gone, it was your favorite place to read your bible and get away.
The beaten pages of your bible flap in the wind, and if you had been paying attention you would have noticed the weird way it was sitting in the basket. you were distracted, the dream you had the night before bombarded your brain with images of abandoned churches, and fire, it felt so real you swore you could feel the smoke burning your lungs when you woke up.
you hit a bump in the road, you had driven over it a million times, however, you watch with a gasp as your old bible launches into the air, flying several feet behind you.
you stop the bike quickly, leaving it in the middle of the road as you panic over potential distress to your bible. you’d had it for awhile and it was worn from how frequently your mother had read it to you, instilling the verses into your brain, but it was still yours and you felt guilty that you’d dropped it.
you look around frantically, so distraught that you don't even notice the car hurdling down the road towards you, clearly holding no intention to stop. you grip the cross hanging from your neck, muttering a prayer for forgiveness as you rush towards it. you bend down to grab it before hearing a loud crash from behind you. you let out a shriek at the noise, practically jumping five feet back as you pop back up. you had never seen cars on this road, or anyone else for that matter, how were you supposed to know there would be one now?
the door to the sleek black truck is quickly thrown open, the prettiest man you had ever seen hops out of it, slamming it behind him. he walks forward to assess the damage with an annoyed scoff before whipping his head towards you.
"the fucks wrong with you, huh?"
your big eyes are all he sees at first, how innocent and delicate you seemed. he watches as your pretty mouth opens in closes silently before setting into the plump pout.
"your bikes fucking wrecked, n' my trucks all scratched up, i mean, what are you even doin'?"
the man stares back at you, taking in your wide-eyed expression. "i-" you stutter, your whole body freezing up as you try to find the words, your doe eyes boring into his. his eyebrows furrow as he studies your startled expression.
"dont talk much, do ya'?"
his voice makes you feel strange, not terrified, but warm. your mothers words flash through your mind, "im sorry...im not ‘posed to talk to strangers...specially boys." a wide smirk spreads on his face as you slowly started to back up. you were fidgety, nervous, and timid like prey, he liked that.
"hey hey hey-" he says, holding out his hands in attempt to calm you. "you dont need to be scared, im just trying to get this figured out...okay?" he says, trying to get you to nod with him. you nod slowly with a soft, "okay" before slowly walking toward him.
"good, thats good." the condescending smirk that decorates his face makes your tummy flutter, wide eyes meeting his. "alright so, you wanna tell me what happened here?" he says as his big hand comes to grip the back of your neck, shoulders scrunching up under his hold before slowly relaxing.
you fidget with the hem of your dress, nerves causing your hands to shake, before you finally mutter out, "i dropped my bible..." he looks down at you, brows furrowing as he tongues his cheek.
"see, what i dont understand is why you left your fucking bike in the middle of the road...?" you pout, pretty glossed lips catching the light. rafe smirks, what he would give to have those wrapped around his-
"i had to go back and get it..." you hum, your pretty voice interrupting his nasty thoughts. he would return to them later, for now he was gonna play with you a little more.
"yeah...im still not getting why you didn’t move your bike out of the way, bambi..."
your cheeks flush at the nickname, you'd never had a boy call you anything like that...in fact really, you'd never had a boy call you much of anything before. Rafe smirks, pleased with himself for making you flush so easily, it certainly was a pretty sight.
"i-...i wasnt thinking about it" your voice is soft, almost angelic, a chill ripples down his spine as he thinks of what you'd sound like with your legs thrown over his shoulders, crying out his name. he smirks, grabbing the back of your head to force you to look up at him.
"yeah? well look at what happens when you dont think, you get yourself into trouble." he condescends, his rude nasally tone sending sparks to your tummy. you whine, realization washing over you as your eyes finally settle on your bike. he was right, it was totaled. he walks towards it, your lip settling between your teeth as you watch his big arms flexing as he pulls your bike out from under the front of his truck.
"looks like youre gonna have to catch a ride with me, doll." he hums with a tsk before walking around to throw your bike in the back. you look up at him, frantic, waiting with baited breath for him to come back around.
'i- no im not supposed to get in the car with strangers." you say while firmly shaking your head, and to your surprise his smirk grows wider. you were innocent, which meant you would be easy to mold. he holds out his hands again in surrender.
"im not gonna hurt you, here, my names Rafe, okay?"
you nod, pausing as he comes closer to you, your heart beating in your ears.
"you gonna tell me your name, bambi?" he says softly, his voice soothed you, making you let out the breath you didnt know you were holding, though for some reason your body was still on alert.
"its y/n" you meet his eyes, getting lost in the false sense of security his pretty blues offered. "alright, how about this, you go get your bible, alright? then ill take you home." you frown, unsure if you should. you didnt really have a reason not to, you knew his name and your bike was totally messed up, which meant you had no other way to get home. you could walk, but it was getting late and honestly, you didnt really want to. reluctantly, your head moves in a soft nod, your pretty doe eyes meeting his as you seek his approval.
"good girl, you go get it and then ill help you into the truck." you flush, your stomach doing summersaults at the praise. you'd never received much of that growing up, having this beautiful boy say that to you so easily, had your pretty panties all sticky.
you pad over to your bible, grabbing it with haste before returning back to him, staring at his pretty face as he helps you into the seat.
"there we go, dollface..." he says before strapping the seatbelt over you. he closes the door gently, as if not to scare you, before he walks back around to the other side. he takes of quick, wondering to himself why he'd never seen you before, silence filling the car as he thinks.
"where do you live bambi..." he suddenly speaks up, bringing you out of the trance you had been in as you watched the trees go by. "umm i live on the cut...not too far from here." you hum softly, and as you speak he nods, smirking as it clicks. you were a pogue, which made things simultaneously easy and hard. easy because tracking and watching over you would be a piece of cake, hard because asking people around him for information about you would be useless.
you go back to watching through the window, your gentle voice breaking the silence as you direct him where to turn and which ways to go. he's mostly silent for the rest of the ride, mulling over things in his head. you were so innocent, he couldn't have anyone getting to you before he did. he watches as you fidget with the hem of your dress, the short material riding up to reveal a bit more of your plush thighs, causing rafe to smirk to himself.
"you nervous bambi?" his voice cuts through what had been a peaceful silence, you had been zoned out as you thought about nothing, off in your own world. you couldn't lie, you were a bit nervous. you felt pressure, the lords presence lingering in the back of your mind as it always did, making you feel sick with guilt. you were gonna have to pray extra hard tonight.
you nod, biting your lip as you bring your knees up to your chest. "yeah...just a little bit" you say as you look over at him, waiting for his reaction. he hums, looking over at you as he pulls onto your street
"you dont need to be nervous angel...just wanted to make sure you got home safe." you nod, reaching over to your car door to climb out, watching as he does so as well. you lean against the truck as he grabs your bike and sets it against the wall of your house. you pout up at him, the face of innocence. god, he was gonna have fun with you.
"thank you rafe...i really appreciate it." he nods, looking you up and down with a smirk. "don't worry about it, y/n, just be more careful next time, okay?" you nod, watching as he gets back into his truck, before padding to your front door. he watches as you bend over to grab the mail, clearly unaware his eyes were on you. he lets out a breathy, "fuck-" as he sees the way your baby pink panties press up against your puffy lips, damp and sticky from the interaction. he snaps a quick picture on his phone before pulling out of your driveway. a smile taking over his face as he puts your address in his notes app as he drives away.
yeah, he was definitely going to have fun with you.
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authors note!!: i hope you guys like it!! it took me so long to write the whole fic and lowkey i think its not great but we will see...
tags!!: @nemesyaaa @starkeysprincess @sematarygirls @gibson-g1rl @sirlovel @chloeisbunny @everinlove @meowgirl1 @chrisfortheblackgirls
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livingsurreal · 2 days ago
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More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer
My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post
That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U
Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.
Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.
Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.
Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.
Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it.  He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)
He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.
And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.
So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?
According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.
That tells us two things:
They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.
They failed, massively.
Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).
But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.
But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.
That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?
Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.
So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.
I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.
Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.
But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.
Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.
I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.
And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.
For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.
Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.
Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.
To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.
Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.
Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.
After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.
And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.
Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.
First of all – unexpected.
They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.
Second – companion.
That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.
The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.
He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.
Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.
If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.
The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”
And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.
(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)
Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.
Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.
Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”
And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?
“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.
If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.
Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).
A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.
Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.
Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.
Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.
It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.
Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.
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Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.
“I can’t… At my…”
“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.
And again, he lashes out.
“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.
“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.
No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.
When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.
Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.
But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.
And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.
All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.
The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.
In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.
They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.
Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“
Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”
Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”
And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”
(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)
One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.
Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)
Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.
Rook did not know he is an early riser.
That leaves two possibilities:
They never had sex up until that point.
They did have sex, but never spent the night together.
Now what does that mean?
This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.
But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.
They never slept with each other
Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?
Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)
But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.
So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.
Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.
He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)
But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?
2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.
They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.
So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.
Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.
Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.
And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.
And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to  get them back? Those walls came crashing down.
His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.
So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.
He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.
A few (way to many) examples:
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And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.
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Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.
Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.
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Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?
In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.
Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.
Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?
That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.
In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.
In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.
Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.
Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.
And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.  
Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.
“I love you.”
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greengoblinswifey · 1 day ago
Text
Steamy Nights—Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
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summary— you’re a sheltered college student who recently got your first job as a housekeeper at a fancy hotel. you stumble upon Nicholas Chavez while cleaning and he invites you to his hot tub in his room where one thing leads to another. based on this request.
warnings— age gap(reader is 19) praise kink, slight body worship, fingering, oral(f!receiving), daddy kink, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, creampie, aftercare.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿
It had been a few weeks since you left your hometown and the ever-watchful eyes of your parents. You were finally in college, away from the suffocating grip of your sheltered upbringing. Now, you were free—free to explore, meet new people, and experience the world on your own terms. You'd always been the quiet, reserved type, but something inside you wanted to change that. You were ready to break out of your shell, to do what everyone else seemed to be doing, partying, flirting, and fucking.
You'd just landed your first job, working as a housekeeper at one of the fanciest hotels in the city. The kind of place where top CEOs, celebrities, and influencers stayed. The pay was decent, and it gave you the freedom you longed for, even though you were still adjusting to the hustle of your new life. You had a lot of cleaning to do, and the hours passed by quickly, but today was different. You were already thinking about the freedom you'd have once your shift was over, but you hadn't expected to find what you did next.
As you entered another room to clean, you realized there was no “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging from the door handle. You assumed it was just another room to tidy, so you entered without hesitation. The sight that greeted you, however, left you frozen.
The man standing before you was unreal. His body was sculpted like a Greek statue, muscles rippling under his damp skin, droplets of water glistening on his chest. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. For a moment, you couldn't find your voice.
“Sorry! I—I’m so sorry,” you stammered, your face flushed. “There wasn't a sign on the door and I just thought—”
You tried to turn away quickly, but your gaze was fixed on him, unable to tear yourself away from his presence. Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but be entranced by his sharp features, the way the towel clung to his waist.
He chuckled softly, his deep voice sending a wave of warmth through your body. “It's fine, princess. Why so nervous?” he asked, his smirk playful yet intense.
You swallowed hard, trying to collect yourself. “I, um, I’m sorry, really.”
He took a step closer, and your breath hitched as he looked you over with what felt like a mixture of curiosity and awe. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “I'm Nicholas by the way, Nicholas Chavez.”
You blinked, a realization dawning on you. Nicholas Chavez. The famous actor. You’d seen him on billboards, in tv shows, and even heard girls talk about him endlessly. He was everywhere. And now, here he was, standing before you in nothing but a towel.
“I, uh, I know who you are,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up even more.
He smiled, eyes softening as he looked at you. “Good. You have a name?”
“Yeah, it's Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said smoothly, his voice low. He took a small step toward you, and you felt your pulse quicken. “So, how old are you?” he asked casually, his gaze lingering on you.
“I’m nineteen,” you replied, feeling a little shy under his attention.
He chuckled, his gaze never leaving you. “Nineteen, huh? You're—full of surprises.”
You blinked, unsure what he meant by that, but his next words made your heart skip a beat.
“How about this,” he said with a sly grin. “When your shift is over, come find me. My private hot tub’s always open. I’ll be waiting.”
For a moment, you hesitated, your mind racing. You’d always been the shy, sheltered girl, but something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, it made you feel different. More alive. Maybe this was your chance to break free from your past, to do something bold.
You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”
His smile widened, and he gave you a wink before turning away, heading back to the bed. “The door’s always open for you,” he said over his shoulder as he flopped onto the bed, his gaze lingering on you. “Take your time.”
You felt a rush of excitement and nerves all at once. You finished your cleaning quickly, your thoughts buzzing with what was to come. You couldn’t stop thinking about him—about his body, his voice, the way he had looked at you. You felt like you were about to step into a new chapter of your life, one that you had been longing for.
The hours passed slowly, but finally, it was time. You’d made sure to pick out a sexy bathing suit, to wear underneath your clothes. As you approached his room, your heart raced with anticipation. You unlocked the door with your housekeeper’s key and pushed it open, your eyes immediately falling on him.
Nicholas was there, lounging on the bed in nothing but his trunks, his body looking just as perfect as before. He looked up and saw you standing there, and his eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
“You came,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.
You swallowed, nodding. “I— I came.”
As he sat up on the bed, your eyes couldn't help but trace the lines of his muscles, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. He was a vision of pure temptation, and for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel nervous. You felt almost empowered.
You stepped out of your clothes and into the soft light of his hotel suite, the anticipation buzzing in the air. You tugged at the straps of your bathing suit, a sudden surge of confidence rushing through you as you revealed the simple yet daring swimwear underneath. His eyes flickered, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you, his gaze darkening with something deeper.
“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice low and appreciative. “You’re gorgeous. Look at you.”
Your heart raced at his words, the heat in your cheeks making you feel more alive than you ever. You gave him a shy smile, but he could see through it, he knew exactly how his words were making you feel. He moved toward you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as his hands gently took you in his arms.
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady and warm. You squealed in surprise as he effortlessly swept you off your feet, carrying you toward the hot tub on the balcony. The steam rising from the water mingled with the cool night air, creating a perfect atmosphere that made your pulse race even faster.
He set you down gently, the water soothing against your skin as he stepped in after you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something magnetic about him, something raw and unspoken. He was powerful, confident, and completely in control, yet there was a kindness in his gaze that made you feel like the only person in the world.
“So, tell me about yourself,” he asked, his voice smooth like velvet. His hand brushed against your back, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the warmth of his touch.
You took a breath, trying to steady yourself. “Well, I’m new to all of this. I grew up a little sheltered, honestly. But I’m in college now, and I wanted to break out of my shell—experience things for myself.”
Nicholas’ eyes softened with understanding, and he gave you a small nod. “I like that,” he said, his voice deepening. “You’ve got spirit.”
You could feel your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little nervously. “I guess I’m just tired of playing it safe.”
He stepped closer, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in just enough to make you dizzy. “What if I told you that you don’t have to play it safe anymore?” His hand found your cheek, cupping it gently as he held your gaze. “What if I told you there’s so much more to explore, if you’re willing?”
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you nodded, not trusting your voice for a moment. His words had unlocked something inside you, something that felt like a new beginning.
“What do you have in mind?” you asked, barely above a whisper. You could feel the tension between you two, the chemistry so thick you could almost taste it.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “A lot of things. Are you down for anything?”
You could feel your pulse spike, the weight of his question making your stomach flip with excitement. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but the conviction behind it was clear. You were ready. Ready to let go and experience everything that this night had to offer.
Nicholas didn’t need any more encouragement. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow at first. But then the kiss deepened, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded eagerly, your body moving against his as you got lost in the moment. His mouth was hungry, but gentle, as if savoring every second.
He broke away for a moment, looking down at you with something unreadable in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the heat of his gaze burning into you. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his fingers gently grazing your skin.
Nicholas was so close now, his body radiating warmth as his hands gently traced the contours of your body, making you feel things you’d never experienced before. His eyes never left yours, and you could feel the raw hunger in his gaze.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured, his lips barely brushing your ear. “Everything about you is perfect.” His fingers slowly moved up, grazing your side, sending a rush of heat straight to your pussy. He paused, then gently tugged at the strings of your bikini top, his eyes darkening as the fabric loosened. “God,” he breathed, looking at you in awe as the top fell away, exposing your tits to him.
You couldn’t stop the flutter in your chest, the way your pulse quickened at his words. You’d never felt more exposed, yet somehow, with him, it felt right. “So juicy,” he whispered, his voice husky as he lowered his head. His lips brushed the soft curve of your breast, and you gasped softly, unable to stop the soft moans that escaped your lips. “Your moans are hot,” he said.
Your body reacted to every touch, every brush of his hands. His touch felt like fire on your skin, leaving you trembling. The sensation of his hands on your body was overwhelming, and when his fingers gently cupped your breast, you couldn’t help but let out another moan, louder this time.
“God, your boobs are amazing,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as his lips found yours again in a hungry kiss. You kissed him back with the same fervor, your body pressing closer to his, feeling the heat of his chest against you. His body was solid, strong, and you could feel every inch of him as he held you close.
His hand moved slowly down your body, his fingers grazing the edge of your bikini bottom. He didn’t rush, he was savoring every moment, as if he knew this was all new to you. His hand lingered there, rubbing over pussy through the fabric, making you squirm slightly. The water splashed around you, but it only heightened the lust between you both.
You moaned softly as he rubbed your clothed pussy faster, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, and the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your body, his eyes full of desire. “You’re so fucking hot,” he said. There was no mistaking the way he felt—he wanted you, just as much as you wanted him.
With a gentle but insistent pull, he guided you closer, your bodies pressed together, the heat from the water mixing with the heat between you. His lips found yours once more, and as you kissed him back, you felt the world narrowing down to just the two of you, two bodies, two souls connecting in the steam and the quiet night.
What do you want, princess?” His voice was thick with desire, his lips lingering near your ear.
You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding as you thought about what you wanted. “I need to feel more. I need you to make me—make me cum.”
He chuckled softly, his breath warm on your neck. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to your bikini bottom. He was so careful, making sure you were comfortable with every movement. He kissed you again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent, as though he couldn’t wait to explore more of you.
The water splashed lightly around you as you both moved, the sound of your breaths mingling with the soft hum of the jets. His hand moved lower, brushing gently against you. He pulled your strings, easily ripping off your bikini then slipped a finger inside your wetness. You couldn’t help but gasp, the sensation of his fingers inside you unfamiliar yet thrilling.
“I’m a virgin by the way, I should’ve mentioned that earlier.”
“Shit, are you okay, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look at you. You nodded, your fingers curling into his chest as you pulled him closer.
“Yes, I’m fine,” you whispered, your body reacting instinctively to his finger curling inside you. He slipped another finger inside you, your nails digging into his huge biceps and he took the moment to rub your clit. Your moans and the sound of water splashing was all he could hear.
“Nick— I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice thick with approval. “Cum for me, baby.”
And for the first time in your life, you did. You squirted on his fingers, feeling the tension in your body release as you surrendered to the moment, to him.
“Fucking hell, you look so pretty when you cum, y’know that?” he murmured, brushing your hair from your face.
“Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like this so, no,” you laughed.
You suddenly realized you were butt ass naked in front of a man for the first time as his eyes raked over your body, drinking you in like you were a sculpture in a museum. Your hands went instinctively to your boobs, covering yourself as he stared too long.
“Oh baby, don’t hide yourself, you’re fucking beautiful,” he murmured, taking your hands and placing it on his bulge. You felt how hard he was, and how big.
Nicholas pulled down his swim trunks, and stepped out of the water in all his glory. The warm water cascaded over his body and all the way down to his cock that was standing at attention. The steam was a paid actor like himself—setting the mood and reflecting the heat between you. He took your hand and helped you out of the hot tub, both of you dripping with arousal and remnants of water.
As you stood there, his towel draped loosely around his waist, you couldn’t help but notice how impossibly broad and strong his frame was. The water glistened off his chest, highlighting his defined muscles, and you felt an involuntary shiver of anticipation.
He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against your skin as he took up a towel and dried you off. You swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest as his hands lingered just a little longer than necessary, making it hard for you to breathe.
“Come on baby,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding as he led you back toward the bedroom, your pulse quickening with every step. The moment you entered, he closed the door behind you, the weight of his presence filling the room.
Before you could even process what was happening, he pushed you gently onto the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the mattress. The action was quick, but there was nothing hurried about the way he looked at you—there was a quiet intensity in his gaze, like he couldn’t wait to see where this would go.
He stood at the edge of the bed for a moment, watching you as you caught your breath, your body still damp from the hot tub. “You know,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “you’re absolutely beautiful.” His words sent a wave of heat through you, making you flush as his gaze dropped to your body, his eyes darkening with desire.
You could barely find your voice. “Th-thank you,” you stammered, trying to steady yourself, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to focus. You weren’t sure if you were nervous or excited, maybe both.
Nicholas moved closer, leaning down until his face was just inches from your glistening pussy. “Can I taste you?” he asked softly, his lips hovering over you.
You nodded, barely able to speak, but your lips parted as he moved in. His mouth moved against your pussy slow at first, tentative almost, as if testing the waters. But as he began licking faster, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded by pressing your pussy against him, the heat of his mouth making you dizzy with desire.
“You’re taste so fucking good,” he murmured against your clit, his voice a husky growl. You moaned softly in response, your body already reacting to his tongue all over you. It was the first time anyone had made you feel like this, so exposed and yet so wanted.
Your breath caught in your throat as you gathered the courage to speak. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you whispered.
He smiled, that wicked grin curling at the edges of his lips at the nickname you appointed to him. “Wow, we’ll address that after you cum on my tongue, so go ahead,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.
As if your body was waiting for the go ahead, you arched from the bed, your hands immediately gripping his hair as you ground your pussy all over his mouth. You moaned as you squirted and he took the opportunity to slurp every drop of what your pussy had to over.
“Mm— that’s my good girl, you taste like fucking Heaven, sweetheart,” he praised in between his licks.
He moved up to you, his lips glistening with your arousal and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him and relishing in your savory taste. As you did, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you, his pre cum leaking and smearing on you. It felt so good, you wanted to suck his dick but you needed him to fuck you even more.
“So, daddy kink hmm? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter,” Nicholas said, that gorgeous smirk on his face.
You buried your face in his neck, grinding your pussy against his shaft as you let out small whimpers in his ear. You needed that dick, bad.
“You’re so needy sweetheart, what is it, you want my cock?”
You let out a soft ‘mhmm’ still grinding against him as your body shuddered, if you weren’t careful, you knew you’d cum from just doing that.
“Words baby, I need words, do you want daddy to take your virginity?” he asked. When he saw you, he knew he wanted you for a fun night and more, he would’ve never thought a beautiful woman like you was still a virgin and would be up for a night with him. Let’s be real, if a guy like him asked you to come to his room after hours, he was looking to fuck and you, a virgin, knowingly came to his room. Though, he needed to know you were on board.
“Yes, please, I want you to take my virginity, please fuck me,” you whimpered.
He reached to pull out the nightstand drawer and you knew immediately what he was reaching for.
“N-no condom,” you muttered, grabbing his hand, “I’d like to feel all of you for my first time, i-if that’s okay.”
“‘Course baby, anything for you,” he smiled.
He moved back on top of you, stroking his length and spreading the pre cum all over. Looking at how big he was, you wondered how he would fit.
“You sure you want to do this sweetheart? You can still back out if you want to, the decision is all yours,” he said, concern etched on his face.
“I’m sure Nicholas,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down.
His leaking tip rubbed against your folds, the sound of your wetness filling the hotel room.
“I’m gonna go slow baby but it’s still going to be a bit uncomfortable at first, if it’s gets too painful, all you have to say is stop, yeah?”
You nodded your head and smiled, appreciative of his words, you wouldn’t want to be losing your virginity in any other scenario with anyone else but him.
Slowly, he began easing his cock into you, muttering praises and placing kisses all over your face. Your face contorted from the pain and pleasure and you tried your best to relax so he could move further.
“It’s okay baby, it’s okay, the worst part’s gonna be over soon,” he uttered, before placing a kiss on your lips.
He slowly pushed into you more, peppering kisses and cooing at you. You’d never felt to full, your fingers when you touched yourself didn’t compare to how big he was inside you. Your jaw fell agape as the slight pain finally subsided and you were overcome with pleasure.
“Daddy,” you moaned as he began to move at a steady pace, his cocky repeatedly brushing against your sweet spot.
“There she is, there’s daddy’s girl,” he cooed, placing another kiss on your lips.
His words made your pussy clench and a flutter grew in your heart, this man was doing things to you no man had ever done.
“Faster,” you urged, grinding against him.
He granted your wish, pounding into you faster and making your body jolt upwards. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping filled the room and soon, you felt your approaching orgasm.
“So fucking tight, just clenching around me like that, I know you wanna cum, cum on daddy’s cock baby.”
Your nails dug into his back leaving a trail of fire and he pounded into you just the way you liked it.
“Oh fuck— daddy,” you cried, grabbing him and pulling him flush against you. You shuddered as your orgasm ripped through you, your juices soaking the bed as he pulled out.
As he looked down, there was a bit of blood between your legs and on his cock. He quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned you up then himself, placing a kiss on your thigh.
You glimpsed the blood stained towel and buried your face in your hands.
“I— I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”
He cut you off with a passionate kiss, cupping your cheeks.
“You don’t need to apologize, it’s natural and normal sweetheart.”
You gave him a small smile and he flipped you on top of him swiftly, making you squeal.
“I know it’s your first time but I need you to ride me baby, need to see those fucking tits bounce and have you on top of me.”
“Anything for you,” you smirked, though nervous.
You lined his awaiting cock with your dripping pussy, rubbing it against you and making it drip down his shaft.
“Fucking hell, you’re amazing,” he moaned, bucking his hips.
Slowly, you sank down onto him, both moaning in unison as your warmth and wetness engulfed each other. It was like fireworks exploded, this was everything you had dreamed of. It was a burning stretch but the pain soon turned into pleasure.
You bounced on his cock and he moved his hips to meet your thrusts.
“Oh God— daddy,” you moaned, feeling him hit a whole new spot inside you, you thought was impossible.
“Yeah? You like that? You like riding daddy’s cock? Fucking say it,” he panted.
“I— I love riding daddy’s cock, fuck me harder,” you moaned.
“Good fucking girl.”
He thrusted up into you, grabbing your boobs and playing with your nipples as he did. Your moans were like music to his ears and soon, he felt the familiar feeling of your pussy fluttering and clenching around him like you didn’t want to let him go.
“Squeezing me so fucking tight baby, cum for daddy, soak daddy’s cock.”
Falling on top of him, your body convulsed and your orgasm overtook you, soaking his length and the sheets below you once more. You knew the housekeepers would complain, they always did when the sheets were covered in bodily fluid, hell, you did too, oh the irony.
“Stay just like that baby, daddy’s gonna pump you full of cum,” he murmured.
Nicholas pinned your hands behind your back, the action unusual but making your head swoon.
“Oh, you like that don’t you?” he asked, fucking up into you hard.
“I love it daddy, faster,” you begged.
“As you wish.” His cock began slamming into you faster and soon, you felt the unmistakable feeling of something warm, filling you to the brim.
“That feels so good,” you moaned, grinding against him.
“I know baby, take daddy’s cum, take it in that tight fucking pussy.”
He slowly thrusted into you before he pulled out, the feeling leaving you empty yet fulfilled.
You laid there, tangled in each other, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests.
“Did you enjoy yourself beautiful?,” he asked, as you leaned up to look at him.
“More than I could ever imagine.”
He smiled and gave you a kiss on the lips before making his way to the bathroom and coming back with a warm cloth. He cleaned you up, littering kisses as he did.
“You’re so beautiful, I’m so lucky,” he muttered. His words made your heart flutter, would this be a regular occurrence?
“I think I’m lucky too,” you laughed, “a famous actor just took my virginity.”
“And I’d like to take it all over again in the morning, will you stay the night?” he inquired, tossing the cloth on the couch.
“I don’t think I can, I already broke a rule sleeping with a guest but literally sleeping over in a guest’s room? I’d get fired and it’s my first job I—“
He cut you off with a finger over your lips. “Shh, forget who I am? I’ll pull some strings, and even if you do get fired, I’ll easily take care of you.”
You buried your face in his firm chest and he fell onto the bed beside you. The romantic night went on with you tangled in each other’s arms and Nicholas littering kisses all over your face. Who knew being a housekeeper would score you such a big tip.
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stalkedbytrains · 1 day ago
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The air this morning was crisp, cool, almost but not quite the first frost.
The kind of morning that was perfect for sitting on the bench on the porch and drinking a beautiful warm coffee.
The hero sat there, drinking their morning coffee, watching the sun fully pull itself out of the horizon.
From out of the forest came a tall, imposing figure. Their hands were covered in dirt and mud and leaves.
The figure stalked right up to the hero on the porch.
"Where did you go?"
"I was out in the darkest part of the forest burying my old stuff."
"Before sunrise?"
"Dark lords and dark deeds are best done before the sun."
"You're so weird."
"It's ritual. It just feels right."
"Go get cleaned up, there's coffee inside for you."
The former dark lord, smiled. A fun, mischievous smile. They advanced on the blanket covered hero.
"Oh no! Don't you come over here all covered in mud! Don't you dare!"
Their companion's voice dropped a few levels, in a way that could have been intimidating, sexy, or both. "But I am so cold. I desire your warmth. Give me your warmth."
They advanced on the hero, dirty hands out stretched.
"Noooo!" the hero cried in mock distress, barely containing their laughter, as they were enveloped by the large, built, dirty dark lord. They tried to fight off their old enemy, but it was a losing fight.
After a moment, the dark lord settled on the porch bench behind their hero, their arms wrapped around the smaller figure. Their cold and dirty body greedily drinking in the warmth of the hero.
"Mmm... warmth," the once evil overlord said as they kissed the exposed neck of the hero with cold lips. "I will take it all from you."
The hero laughed, reaching back to put their hand on the back of the villain's head to keep them close.
"Do you think they bought it?" the hero asked. "Do you think they're going to search for us? Do you think it's finally over?"
"It better be," the dark lord said. "We didn't give them any reason to suspect we're still alive. Our finale was a spectacle. But I suspect people will always be looking for you."
"But I don't want to be anywhere but here," the hero whispered. "With you."
"Good," the villain said as they tightened their grip around the hero's hips. "I want you to be mine and only mine. And I want to only be your's."
The hero grinned. "But you do know where you left your stuff. Just in case."
"Just in case. It'll come back if I need it. But we won't. Where did you put your stuff?"
"I just put it in the cellar. In a box."
The villain finally leaned away from the hero, putting some distance between them. "I can't believe I love you. You have no style, no panache, no gravitas. Your hero attire in a box in a cellar? How trite!"
"And what do you think I should have done? Placed my sword in a stone? Given my armor to some pair of stone golems that only talk in riddles and puzzles?"
"At a minimum."
"But then people might look for me even harder."
"Or they will accept that the mantle will only pass to the next hero when needed."
"Why? Do you think there is going to be another evil overlord, leader of darkness to replace you?"
"No one that will be as attractive as me."
"Don't flatter yourself," the hero said teasingly, but with a stolen kiss. "Now go get cleaned up, so we can have breakfast together. Like I've wanted to for a long time."
"And if I want to dine on... something else?"
"Oh! You..."
"I don't hear a no."
The former dark lord stood up, suddenly tightening their grip on the hero, lifting them with the motion and moving into the small cottage with delightful peals of laughter from the now retired hero.
------
For years it was good. Perfect.
The world had not needed their hero for a long time.
The reforms and changes they introduced meant there need not be a villain to challenge and destroy the system.
Until one day when the hero didn't come home.
The former dark lord knew immediately that something was wrong when the sun had set without the hero coming back home.
Such a thing was unthinkable. No contact or message. No, that wasn't something they would ever do.
There was a feeling in the air. The dark lord tried to deny it. It was just the winds of an early winter, even though they knew that wasn't the truth.
With a twitch, a movement that was a familiar one, a long unused bit of muscle memory, the pieces of the office of Dark Lord flew from their long ago buried tomb in the darkest part of the woods and joined their master.
Heavy, sharp, precise dark metal gauntlets that pinched a little at softened skin but quickly grew and changed and shifted to fit perfectly. The dark helm settled gently on their head, fitting perfectly like it used to so long ago. The cloak was covered in dirt and dead leaves, but that only added to the aesthetic of the thing. It wrapped itself around the dark lord in a cool, comforting, almost forgotten embrace.
The last of the dark lord's attire was assembled and it felt familiar and cold in a way that they had grown away from but couldn't entirely forget.
With everything they'd need they walked, trespassing through shadows, and locked doors, and forgotten ritual sites, until they found their way back to a place that used to be home.
A dark, foreboding, cold castle at the edge of the world.
It was occupied.
Someone was trying to take their mantle. And as far as they cared, they could have it.
But these kinds of people always had to do something showy to cement their power.
"Ah, I was wondering when I would hear-" the new villain said, but they were cut off as the previous dark lord immediately closed the distance and clasped a strong hand on their neck and squeezed.
"I understand the game. I know what you are up to. But this time it won't work. Because you clearly don't understand boundaries. You took something that belongs to me."
The new villain smiled.
"Oh old timer. Perhaps you forgot something as well. Dark can't fight against the dark. You have no power here. You're just old, out of shape, and soft. This will go quickly."
The dark lord laughs as the upstart pulled themselves free.
"Magic isn't a muscle, it's not something that can wither and die. It's a reservoir. And I still have magic to burn. So while I can't kill you with it. I don't need to."
They reached into the old cloak and from the darkness within it, pulled out something that burned like a star. They suddenly held on to a bright and blinding sword.
"This is my partner's. You return them to me and you won't feel the sting. Find some corrupt politician or king to execute to make your grand statement."
"But who better to cement my name than the death of the last great hero!"
The upstart villain never spoke another word. The dark lord cleaned off their partner's weapon, putting away with a careful reverence. They then went to rescue their love and return them home. Where they belonged.
i have a kofi if you'd like to tip me for doing stuff like this
The hero and the dark lord have both disappeared after their battle, making everyone think they both perished. In reality, they are living on a farm, living the life of their dreams.
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hoshifighting · 1 day ago
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ok... so i've seen your amazing college fling works for seungcheol, jeonghan, and joshua.... but what about one for hoshi 👉👈
ONCE AGAIN I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!! ❤️❤️❤️
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WARNINGS: freshmen!hoshi, late night practices, burn-out, shyness, sunbae!reader, fluff, a lil bit of angst.
WC: 2.8k of this... judge me 🗣needed to divide this into parts...
part 1 / part 2
college fling!hoshi that you clocked that he was a freshman by the very moment he stepped into the dance practice room. it started with the smell, honestly. freshman reek—like nervous sweat and too much axe body spray, paired with the faintest whiff of fear. baggy-ass hoodie that practically swallowed his arms, hands shoved deep in his pockets like they’d get fined if they came out, sneakers so new they squeaked against the gym floor. he looked young. not in a bad way, just in that “i’m not used to being left unsupervised” way.
he stood in the doorway like he didn’t know what to do with himself. everyone else was stretching, pulling their limbs into shapes human joints probably weren’t meant for, and there he was, swaying on the balls of his feet like a kid waiting to ask if they could borrow a crayon.
“you lost?” you called out, not even looking up from where you were sitting, tying your shoelaces.
“huh? n-no, i’m, uh—this is intro to hip-hop?”
the way he said it like a question had you biting back a grin. “yeah, you’re in the right place. c’mon in before the instructor roasts your ass for lurking.”
he shuffled in, taking a spot in the back corner like he was hoping no one would notice him. “i'm invisible if i stand still enough”, he thinks. but of course, everyone noticed him. new kid energy was impossible to ignore, and to top it off, he had that awkwardly cute thing going on. messy bangs falling into his eyes, face pink like he was one awkward comment away from combusting. his eyes, wide and curious, darting around like he was mentally cataloging every single thing in the room.
“you got a name, freshman?” you asked, leaning back on your hands as you watched him.
he blinked, like he didn’t realize you were still talking to him. “oh, uh, hoshi. i mean, soonyoung. but people call me hoshi.”
“cool. you dance before, hoshi?”
“alright, new guy!” the prof clapped his hands, dragging everyone’s attention. “show us a little freestyle! don't be shy...”
college fling!hoshi who freezes mid-blink, still thinking about your question. clutching his backpack straps so hard you thought they might snap. he turned to you, wide-eyed and panicked, like you could save him from the impending doom.
“relax,” you whispered, stepping closer, your voice low enough that only he could hear. “you do this and sunbae’s buying you dinner. whatever you want. ramen, fried chicken, you name it.”
he blinked, like the concept of being spoiled by you was enough to short-circuit his brain, but there was something there. a spark. like maybe he didn���t wanna flop in front of you.
“okay,” he mumbled, and you gave him a grin that could probably power a small city.
“attaboy,” you said, patting his shoulder as you turned back to the class.
by the end of the first class, he’d loosened up a bit—mostly because the instructor made everyone run through improv drills, and there was no room for shyness when you were flailing around to some experimental old-school rap track. you caught him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.
college fling!hoshi who finally zipped up his backpack after what felt like an eternity, stood up, and immediately knocked over a water bottle with his foot. he muttered a quick, shy “sorry,” barely glancing at the offended plastic, and shuffled toward you. his shoulders were stiff, his hands gripping the straps of his backpack like they were the only things tethering him to this earth. you gave him a once-over, your phone in one hand, and a smirk playing at your lips. “you survived,” you said casually, and his grin was so tiny you almost missed it.
college fling!hoshi who started walking alongside you, a little too close like he didn’t know how to pace himself yet. every few steps, his elbow brushed yours, and he’d shift just enough to make it obvious he noticed. you didn’t say anything—just side-eyed him with a teasing smile that had his ears turning red.
college fling!hoshi who paused outside the building with you, his fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on his sleeve as he asked, “so, uh… what do you like to eat?” his voice was barely louder than the passing breeze. you raised an eyebrow at him, tucking your phone into your pocket. “you’re really gonna let me pick, huh?” he nodded, determined, even as he shuffled his feet. “you said you’d spoil me,” he countered, and for the first time, there was a flicker of sass in his tone. you liked it.
college fling!hoshi who almost tripped on his untied shoelace when you said you’d pick a place, his backpack slipping off one shoulder as he bent down to fix it. he was mumbling something about bad luck when you crouched beside him, yanking the lace from his hands and tying it with a quick knot. “you’re gonna kill yourself before dinner at this rate,” you said, and the way he stared at you—wide-eyed, lips parted—made it feel like you’d just handed him the keys to the kingdom.
college fling!hoshi who sat across from you at the tiny chicken shop, looking at the menu like it was a math test. “it’s just chicken, dude,” you teased, propping your chin in your hand. he fumbled with the laminated page, finally blurting, “but what if I pick something too spicy?” you laughed, shaking your head. “okay, rookie, let me help you out.” you ended up ordering for both of you, and when the dish came, his eyes lit up.
college fling!hoshi who distractly puts too much sauce on his chicken wing and doesn’t notice because he was too busy grinning at your stories. “wait, wait—so you fell during a performance?” he asked, the sauce at the corner of his mouth. you groaned, throwing a napkin at him. “it wasn’t just a fall, okay? it was a crash,” you admitted, and his laugh was so loud the couple at the next table glanced over. “stop making fun of me or I’ll make you pay,” you threatened, and his face instantly sobered. “wait, what?”
college fling!hoshi who insisted on paying despite your earlier threats. he pulled out his wallet like it was some grand declaration of independence, only to hesitate when he realized he didn’t have enough cash. “um…” he started, cheeks burning. you rolled your eyes and handed your card to the cashier before he could protest. “rookie rule number one,” you said smugly, “always check your wallet before acting like a big shot.” he muttered something about repaying you, and you just laughed, nudging him toward the door.
college fling!hoshi who got lost again on the way back to his dorm, despite the fact that he’d been living there for a week. “are you serious right now?” you asked, watching him squint at the campus map on his phone. he scratched the back of his head, mumbling, “it all kinda looks the same at night.” sighing, you grabbed his phone, pulled up the map yourself, and started walking. “come on, hoshi-ya you’re hopeless.”
college fling!hoshi who walked beside you, hands in his pockets, quietly humming a tune you didn’t recognize. “what’s that?” you asked, tilting your head toward him. his eyes widened like he’d been caught. “oh, uh, just something I made up,” he admittedquietly. you stopped in your tracks, turning to him with a grin. “wait, you write music?” he shrugged, suddenly bashful. “a little… it’s not a big deal.” you nudged him with your shoulder. “nah, that’s cool as hell. show me sometime?”
college fling!hoshi who hesitated outside his dorm door, hand hovering over the handle. “thanks for… you know, today,” he said, glancing at you shyly. “and dinner.” you smirked, crossing your arms. “you earned it, rookie. but next time, you’re paying.” his smile stretched wide, and for a moment, he just stood there, like he didn’t want to go in. finally, he nodded, fumbling with the key. “goodnight, sunbae,” he said softly, and you had to resist the urge to ruffle his hair as you turned to leave.
college fling!hoshi who always trails behind you, holding onto the strap of your backpack like a lost puppy. “you’re gonna rip it, you know,” you tell him, but he just grins and tightens his grip. “you’re my sunbae. gotta make sure I don’t lose you.” it’s so dumb and cheesy that you flick his forehead, but your chest feels warmer anyway.
college fling!hoshi who managed to charm his way into your friend group like he’d been there all along. one of your music department friends spotted him loitering outside your lecture hall and asked, “is that the guy you’ve been dragging around campus?” you rolled your eyes, but hoshi smiled like he’d just won an award. “that’s me!” he said proudly, and somehow by the end of the conversation, they were swapping playlist recommendations.
college fling!hoshi who shows up at your dorm one night with a bruised knee and a sheepish smile. “i tripped during practice,” he admits, wincing as you drag him inside. “tripped or collapsed?” you demand, pointing at the ice pack in his hands. he shrugs, trying to play it off, but you’re already crouched in front of him, scolding him as you press the ice to his knee. “you should stop, sunbae its worried about you.” you mutter, and when he mumbles, “i’ll be fine,” you glare at him until he mutters an apology instead.
college fling!hoshi who gets into his first real argument with you after you find him practicing in an empty studio way past midnight. “what the hell are you doing?” you snap, flipping on the lights to find him mid-spin, sweat dripping down his face. “just a bit more,” he protests, breathless. “i need to get this routine perfect.” but you’re not having it. “perfect doesn’t matter if you’re too dead to perform, hoshi!” he flinches, wide-eyed, but you don’t stop. “you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. stop before you break something.” he looks at you, frustrated, and finally, he slumps onto the floor, whispering, “sorry, sunbae.”
college fling!hoshi who randomly shows up with snacks between your classes. “figured you’d be hungry,” he says, handing you a convenience store bag. you peek inside—your favorite drink and a pack of cookies. “didn’t know you were trying to bribe me,” you tease, taking a bite. “is it working?” he asks, grinning, and when you give him a thumbs-up, he beams like a kid on christmas morning.
college fling!hoshi who ends up crashing at your dorm after a long night of studying. he’s sprawled on your bed, one arm thrown over his face, while you sit cross-legged on the floor, typing away at your laptop. “you’re gonna fail if you don’t actually read the material,” you say, glancing up. he groans, rolling onto his side. “then i’ll just ask you to tutor me again,” he says, smirking, and you chuck a pillow at his head.
college fling!hoshi who catches you off-guard one day by slipping his jacket over your shoulders during a chilly walk across campus. “you looked cold,” he says simply, his voice softer than usual. you pull the fabric tighter around you, the faint scent of him lingering on it, and when you glance at him, he’s pretending to be super interested in a tree. “thanks,” you say quietly, and he shrugs, his ears turning pink as he mutters, “anytime, sunbae.”
college fling!hoshi who came back one day to the practice room after a late practice, two cans of soda in hand, humming to himself. “sunbae, I got—” his voice cut off when he saw you slouched on the floor, one hand clutching your forehead. “y/n?” he rushed over, dropping the sodas with a dull clunk. crouching in front of you, his voice softened. “what’s wrong? are you okay?” you waved him off weakly. “just tired. it’s nothing.” but he didn’t buy it for a second.
college fling!hoshi who gently pried your hand away from your forehead, his fingers brushing against yours. “you’re burning up,” he said, his brow furrowing. “why didn’t you say anything?” you tried to sit up straighter, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “it’s fine, really. just pushed too hard today.” his expression tightened. “this isn’t fine, y/n. you shouldn’t have kept going if you felt like this.”
college fling!hoshi who helped you lean back against the mirror. “stay still, okay?” he murmured, crouching next to you. you gave him a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “you’re acting like I’m dying, hoshi.” he didn’t laugh, his lips pressing into a thin line. “don’t joke about that,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of improvement.
college fling!hoshi who let you rest your head against his shoulder when you slumped forward again. “here, like this,” he said softly, adjusting so you were cradled in his arms. his hands were steady, one supporting your back and the other brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “just relax. you’re safe.” he started gently blowing on your face, the cool air soothing your heated skin. “better?” he whispered, his voice close enough to send a strange flutter through your chest.
college fling!hoshi who stayed with you until you could sit up on your own again, his arm still lingering behind your back just in case. “you scared me,” he admitted, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “i thought… what if something happened and I wasn’t here?” you blinked up at him, guilt bubbling in your stomach. “sorry,” you muttered. his hand found yours, squeezing it gently. “just don’t do it again, okay? i mean it, you always scold me for practicing too late...”
college fling!hoshi who refused to let you walk home by yourself, no matter how many times you insisted you were fine. “nope, not happening,” he said firmly, slipping your bag over his shoulder along with his own. “if you collapse halfway there, what am I supposed to do? carry you like a princess?” you snorted, but the teasing tone in his voice couldn’t hide the worry in his eyes.
“you know, I could really get used to you carrying me around,” you said, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. he raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “oh, really?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “yeah,” you said, deadpan, “I mean, who wouldn’t want a cute guy carrying them everywhere?”
college fling!hoshi who, despite the teasing tone in your voice, caught that little glint in your eye. “alright, then,” he said, voice suddenly serious, as he paused in front of you. “come here.” without waiting for a response, he slid his arms under your knees and around your back. you yelped in surprise, but before you could protest, he had you lifted off the ground like you were weightless. “you wanted it, right?” he said with a grin, carrying you like it was nothing. “not a word out of you until we get to your dorm.”
“you’re a natural at this,” you teased, your chin resting on his shoulder as you looked up at him. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you from passing out on me,” he muttered, but his cheeks were flushed, and his hands felt like they were holding you just a bit too tightly. “this isn’t bad,” you added with a smirk, “maybe I’ll start making demands. like, no more walking for me from now on.”
he blushed at your joke but didn’t miss a beat. “you sure about that?” he asked, glancing down at you with a sly smile. you nodded, playing along. “definitely. I’m a princess now. I’ll need snacks, water, a blanket... and don’t forget the back rubs.” hoshi shook his head, clearly trying to hide his amusement. “I’m pretty sure you’re taking this way too far, but okay,” he said, adjusting his grip on you. “I can do all that...”
“deal. but only if you don’t drop me halfway there,” you teased. hoshi’s grip tightened, his voice lowering a little. “I’ll never drop you, sunbae.”
college fling!hoshi who made it to your dorm room, still carrying you as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “I should’ve known you’d enjoy this,” he said, shaking his head as he set you down on your bed. “enjoy what?” you asked innocently, grinning up at him. “this whole ‘being carried around’ thing,” he said, still laughing a little. you shrugged dramatically.
college fling!hoshi who would come up to you after class, always fussing over you—was your shoulder okay? did you stretch enough? how was your lunch? you’d always brush it off, sulking a little at the way he took care of you like it was his full-time job.
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missadangel · 2 days ago
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The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Ofc!Princess Reader)
All Chapters List
XV. The Plan (+18, Smut, MDNI)
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“Parcere proditori, proditio est innocenti.”
To spare the traitor is to betray the innocent.
Marcus, after leaving you in the poorhouse, made his way to Palatine Hill. He had a bad feeling about it and it was getting worse. It was tough for him to leave you each time. However, today's council was of greater importance than any that had preceded it. It might be the case that this could alter the course of Rome and his own fate.
He got the latest update from his soldiers before heading into the Domus Severiana. He had trust in the Praetorian guards at the gate and those in the courtyard, but with Geta's safety at stake, he couldn't be sure. Octavius met him in the courtyard and followed him into the armoury to help him put on his armour. The next step was to get Geta to the Curia Julia safely. He must do this on his own, with his most trusted soldiers. As a Roman general, Marcus was an expert in a variety of military strategies and tactics, with a particular focus on offensive operations. It was for this reason that he maintained a considerable military presence on the Field of Mars, prepared for any eventuality. They were ready to act on his orders. He had invested a great deal of time and effort in training them, with the aim of making them all well-raised soldiers and ensuring they were prepared to take action should the need arise. He was certain that he would eventually have to deal with the Praetorian Guard. However, since you came into his life, his priorities have shifted somewhat. He was no longer seeking to overthrow the Emperor, but rather to assist him in becoming a capable leader for Rome. Perhaps he was reluctant to witness further unrest and conflict in the city. He was willing to do whatever he could to ensure a brighter future for his own and for all Roman children.
Marcus put on his armour and armed himself with his sword before heading to the courtyard with Octavius. Geta and his mother, Julia, were there, too, with a few guards awaiting him. As soon as Geta saw them, he walked toward them.
"Acacius, where's my sister? Why didn't you bring her with you?" he asked, a little louder than necessary.
"She's somewhere safe, so there's no need to worry."
"That's nonsense! You should have brought her here with you. I don't think it's a good idea for her to stay outside the palace right now."
Marcus gave him a stern look. "So you're the one who ordered the guards to look for her everywhere?"
"Yes, I wasn't sure how Macrinus would take the council's urgent decision, so I thought maybe I could bring her here this way."
Marcus strode over to him, looking angry, which made Geta tense up.
"You knew she was with me."
"But I didn't know where you were, so I had to get them to look for you both. Roughly half of the guards were still on his side. I just wanted to make sure that my guard could find you before anyone else did."
Marcus tried to calm down, taking a deep breath. "This shows that the palace isn't a safe place either. Fortunately, she's safe now, my men are protecting her," he said then. “May I ask how the Council decided to meet today?” His eyes shifted to Julia, but she averted her gaze.
"It is difficult to convey the extent of my mother's efforts, but we have now gained the upper hand in the council," he said, winking at her. “It was unanimously agreed that an urgent meeting should be convened, today.”
Marcus was not interested in the specifics of her success. “I see.” He murmured.
“So let's proceed with the next steps and conclude this, shall we?”
Marcus nodded. "Indeed."
By noon, Geta and Julia's carriage had arrived at the Roman Forum. As they made their way through the streets, they were accompanied by other soldiers and guards who appeared to be loyal to Geta for the time being. The members of the Senate were already assembled in the Curia Julia. While Geta and Julia proceeded up the stairs, Marcus followed at a distance, taking care to observe his surroundings. However, the issue was not external, but rather within the Council chamber itself. Some of the Council members were absent, and it was not difficult to discern which ones. The other members expressed their concerns about their absence, and Geta was insistent on commencing the session. However, this was contrary to the law. Therefore, they decided to wait, but this was about to exacerbate the situation further. Marcus was concerned that this endless waiting time might be a sign of something bad.
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‘What is this place? Where are you taking me?’ you asked Macrinus. You followed him through narrow streets and then through a tunneled passage into a large building.
"You will see it soon enough, my lady." He replied confidently.
You didn't want to come to this strange place with that bastard, but you had no choice. He had his plans for today, no doubt about it. You soon passed through the stone walls that resembled those under the Colosseum and observed a group of men. They were all members of the Senate, and you knew them at once by their white togas.
"What's the meaning of this?" Your voice was loud.
Macrinus ignored you, and the members of the Senate looked at you with a hint of hesitation.
"You really brought her," said one of them.
"I always get what I want, consul. You should have known this by now." Macrinus grinned then clasped his hands. "Now that we have the princess, we shall move on to the next stage."
"Consul Macrinus, I'm not entirely convinced if that's the best course of action. I think it is unwise to abduct General Acasius' wife, the princess, and force them to cooperate." One of them said.
"Council must have met by now. Geta's guards will be looking for us."
"And do not forget the Acacius's soldiers!"
"Cease the complaining!" Macrinus yelled at them. "Why can't you see the opportunity that I see? They can't start the session without us, yet they can't make a decision either. And as for Geta, he is not like Caracalla." He turned towards you. "He values his sister more than you realise.” Then looked at them once again. "So, Acacius will bring us Geta with his own hands and hand him over, and I will kill him. This will make my path to the throne. Then we'll all win. See? It's straightforward. There's no need to complain like old ladies, is there?”
"You'll all be punished for this!" You shouted. “You'll lose your statues, your title, everything you have! Release me at once, I'm warning you!"
The consuls exchanged glances, and Macrinus became visibly upset and approached and grabbed your arm.
"I see you've been very talkative since I last saw you, Aurelia. However, you're wasting your breath. I'll take your brother's life eventually and become an emperor.”
"It will never happen!" You barked. He touched your hair, and you turned your head to the other side in disgust. "You will witness it. I will make sure of that." He looked at the guards. "Take the princess away and lock her up."
"Let go of me!" You resisted, struggling. But the guards ignored you.
It didn't seem like an easy situation to get out of this time. Your chest tightened as you considered the possibility that he might win. If that were to happen, it would undoubtedly mean losing everything. It would be disastrous.
You descended the stone stairs and were taken aback by what you saw. There were cells with iron bars, like a dungeon. You stopped and looked at the guards.
“Please keep walking, my lady.” His tone was stern.
When you refused, the guards looked at each other and one of them grabbed your arm.
"'Let go of my arm!" You yelled, trying to fight back but to no avail. The other one opened the door to one of the cells and they forced you inside.
"I am your princess! You can't do this! Can't you hear me?"
They kept ignoring you, and locked the cell. You gripped the bars.
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"Please, don't do this, let me out! Please!" Your voice was pleading this time, but it seemed to have no effect on them. One of them stood by the bars and the other near the stairs. You gave up begging, turned your back on them, and looked into the cell. It was almost the filthiest place you had ever been. The stone walls looked like weathered rock. The floor was dirty, dusty and filthy. You were so tired, that your feet were about to betray you, but you had no intention of sitting down or leaning against the wall, so you decided to cross your arms and just wait. You had never felt so helpless, not even when you were running away from Flavius in the woods. There was nothing more horrible than having your freedom taken away, the feeling of being trapped made your chest ache.
Before long, you heard footsteps echoing through the hall. You looked in that direction and saw the guards nodding to Macrinus. He had his usual self-assured look on his face, bowing respectfully to you as if he had done nothing wrong.
You went over to the iron bars. “Get me out of here at once!’
He gave a little smirk. “I'm really sorry about the poor facilities, my lady, but I am a little unsure that you'd behave yourself. After all, you have a very stubborn and determined temperament.”
You pursed your lips. “What's this place anyway? What gives you the right to lock me in here?”
Macrinus put his hands on the iron bars and observed as if he were seeing them for the first time. “This is where the gladiators stay. They get their first training at this school before heading to the Colosseum."
"Do I look like a gladiator to you?"
Macrinus laughed. "Of course not, my lady. Let's just say I'm playing it safe."
"Locking me up won't convince me of anything."
"Is that so? Hmm, maybe not you, but I think I could easily persuade your brother or your husband. They both care a lot about you after all."
You took a step towards him. "What exactly are you planning? As soon as you ascend to the throne, you will exile my husband, declare our marriage null and void, and force me to marry you?”
“More or less, yes.”
"That's not going to happen! I'm never going to marry you, not in this life, or the next!" Your voice bounced off the cold stone walls with a ringing sound.
Macrinus seemed serious this time. "Then you'll be stuck under home detention for the rest of your life. There won't be a general husband coming to your rescue, nor a foolish brother in hopeless in love with you either."
"Shut your damn mouth!" Your body was shaking with anger.
"I'm giving you one last chance, Aurelia. Think carefully. Once Geta's gone, I'll be the new emperor. And then you'll do what I want." Macrinus put his hands on the bars just above yours. "'I thought it would be better to exile Acacius for his heroism, so that would not provoke a public outrage, but if you try my patience and resist, I will make you watch him die in the Colosseum. I swear I will."
You swallowed, even the thought was enough to make your heart ache. "I am carrying his child, how can you be so heartless, so damned?”
"A child?” He laughed. “As a medicus I'm sure you can find ways to get rid of that.”
"Damn you!" You reached through the bars to hit him in the face, but he grabbed your hand. He made you put your hand on his collar. There was a marking on his chest.
"Take a look at this! Do you know what this is? It's your father's mark!"
You observed the mark. "Were you a slave?"
Macrinus released your hand and you pulled it back.
"I was, during your father's time, but I managed to get into the senate. He was a strong and powerful man, your father. A soldier, a dictator, and a tough opponent. I learned a lot from him, Aurelia. But I still couldn't gain his trust, no matter how hard I tried. Fortunately, his sons weren't like him."  He pointed his finger at you. "You're more like your father than they are. I realised the first time I saw you in Egypt. Look, no matter how much you refuse, you can't escape what's coming. I will get what I deserve."
"No, that will never happen. You will lose. No one will remember you."
This time he sounded angry. "I made you a princess! You got your title back thanks to me! How about a little gratitude?”
"I was planning to come here anyway. Vicius and I had been planning to travel to Rome together to find my true family. If circumstances had been different the rebellion hadn't broken out, and the Roman soldiers hadn't come to put it down. That night..." You took a moment to collect your thoughts. Despite the pain that these memories still evoke, you have learned to embrace them because they have led you to meet Marcus. "He had already told me everything, except who my father was. We were going to open the letter together as soon as we arrived in Rome. You only hastened the process.”
"Vicius," he said, sounding annoyed. He then took a deep breath. "I've had some success in this process, but also had a few failures, and that man is one of them. If he'd handed you over to me then, before Geta and Caracalla ascended the throne, things might be different now."
His disrespect for Vicius was unacceptable and made you even angrier.
"What about Gaius? Isn't he also a great failure of yours?"
"Well, not entirely. If he hadn't taken your father's letter to him as an offer to marry you, who knows, he might still be alive now. He was the one who caused his own death. It's in my interest for him to die if there's any chance of him ascending to the throne." He smiled, but then his face turned angry again. "But he's not the biggest failure or obstacle." He said as he approached the bars, his face was close enough to touch the surface of the iron bars. "Acacius. He's the biggest obstacle that needs to be removed from my path, and I'm going to make sure that I do."
You brought your face closer to his. "My husband, Acacius, will be the end of you. You can be sure of that.”
He put a hand to his chin as if he was thinking. "I am doubt about that Aurelia. Because you see, soon, he will be preoccupied with bringing Geta to me. And once he does, I will take your brother's life and that will be the end of your husband as well." He grinned. "My plan is working perfectly and I will get what I want."
"He is not stupid. He will not fall into your trap.”
“He has no choice. He'll do anything to get you back, I know that."
You knew he was right and you hated it.
"Enough talk. Time to take action." He turned towards the guard. "If there's any trouble, kill her."
You swallowed, trying to stay calm. He then bowed his head to you and headed towards the stairs.
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As time passed, the atmosphere in the Curia Julia became increasingly tense. Marcus was at breaking point, and Geta was no different. As Octavius rushed into the hall, almost tripping on the stairs, everyone looked at him with curiosity.
"Sir, you need to come outside," he said to Marcus, keeping his voice low.
"Is something wrong?"
Geta stood up and walked towards them.
"What's going on?"
Octavius’ face was grave as he was about to give them bad news. He looked at the councilors and then at his general. "Sir, Macrinus sent a guard to speak with you..." Octavius looked down in distress.
Marcus frowned, wondering if he was about to hear what he feared most.
"What does he want? Speak at once!" Geta shouted.
Julia tried to calm the council members.
"Princess Aurelia..." Octavius exhaled a deep breath. "Macrinus has abducted her-"
Without even thinking, Marcus stormed to the entrance to leave the hall. Geta followed him, but his mother grabbed his arm.
"Your Majesty! You must stay here-"
"You do that!" he said, roughly pulling his arm away from her.
Marcus rushed down the stairs and, noticing the guard Octavius had pointed at, grabbed his sword and held it to the man's throat. The guard let out a little gasp. "Tell me where she is now!' He roared.
All the soldiers and guards tensed and gripped the hilt of their swords.
"General Acacius, Sir Macrinus is waiting for you at his villa." He said, out of breath, struggling to get the words out. "He also said that he wants you to bring Emperor Geta with you."
“How dare he summon me like this?” Geta shouted. "Acacius, round up your men, and let's move to take him out now, shall we?"
The soldiers looked at their general. Seizing the opportunity of Marcus' thoughtful demeanor, Macrinus' guard took a step back.
"Sir Macrinus only wants the general and Emperor Geta." He stated arrogantly. "If you care about the Princess, you'd better do as-”
Suddenly a schwing sound was heard and Octavius's sword severed his jugular, and he collapsed, tumbling down the stairs and staining the marble steps with his blood. They all watched him die with a deadpan expression.
"Why wait? We must leave now Acacius," Geta touched his shoulder.
Marcus shook his head. “No, he'll kill you the moment I take you there, I can't let it.”
"I'm flattered, general, but this is your wife we're talking about, my sister."
Marcus sheathed his sword. "I am aware, but we must act wisely. If we fall into his trap, it will be the end of us all, which is exactly what he wants us to do."
"So we'll just leave Aurelia in his filthy hands?"
Marcus gave him a deadly look. "Don't you dare speak like you care more about my wife than I do!"
"Then act like you do!" Geta barked.
“General Acacius! Emperor Geta!”
They both turned to face the man calling to them. A man in a black cloak, familiar to Marcus, came up the stairs and approached them. The soldiers tensed, but Marcus gestured to them that it was all right.
"Who the hell are you?" Geta asked, squinting at the man.
"I am Lextus, Your Majesty," the man said, bowing. He looked at Marcus and then back at Geta. "I have something very important to tell you, both of you."
"Man of yours?" Geta asked Marcus.
"No, he is a relative of yours, from Leptis Magna, didn't your mother tell you?"
Geta gave him a dirty look.
"Speak up, what's so important?" Marcus asked.
"We've been tracking Macrinus for a while and we know where he is."
"If that's what you wanted to say, you've come in vain," Geta said, pointing to the guard's lifeless body lying at the bottom of the stairs.. "That cunt Macrinus is already waiting for us to go to him."
"It's a trap, he's luring you into it, Your Majesty. The Lady Aurelia is not with him, she is elsewhere," he said, and as soon as he mentioned your name, Marcus and Geta's eyes locked on him. "We know where he's keeping her, that's what I came here to tell you."
Marcus grabbed him by the collar of his cloak. "How do you know? When did you see her? Speak at once!"
"The General asked you a question!" Geta demanded.
Lexus hadn't expected either of them to react this way, he had to take a breath to speak. "Praetorians with Macrinus' lead intercepted Lady Aurelia's carriage in the alleyway. We followed the carriage, which took us straight to Ludus Magnus. We saw Lady Aurelia enter with the guards, and I have men stationed there to keep an eye on things. We are unsure why, but we know some consuls are there."
Geta looked at Marcus. "Why would he take her to the damn gladiator training school? What is he trying to do?"
"Tell me, is Macrinus still there or in his villa?" Marcus demanded.
"He left a few hours ago, we believe he went to there."
"We need to get to Aurelia now!" Geta said.
"The guards will be watching us. If we head there now, they'll inform him. Or even worse, they might hurt her before we get there." Marcus said through clenched teeth.
"What are we going to do then?"
Marcus thought for a moment. He had to think fast and come up with a plan, but he wasn't sure what to do.
It was time to think strategically and take action. As a soldier and general, he was an expert in this. "We need to make some time," he muttered.
"So let's not waste, standing here," Geta whined, adjusting his crown.
Watching him, a plan came to Marcus' mind. "Your Majesty, we must take you to Palatine Hill immediately."
"Are you mad? Macrinus's men are all over the place. Didn't you just say so yourself?”
Marcus exhaled. “That's why we have to leave now. I'm asking you to trust me.”
Geta narrowed his eyes. "In the past, I wouldn't have trusted you, but now I think I do."
"You don't have much choice, after all," Marcus teased as they hurried down the stairs together.
Once Geta was in the carriage, Marcus called Aris over. "Head to the Field of Mars right away and let them know I've ordered the troops to assemble around Macrinus' villa. Try to be as stealthy as you can."
"Yes, sir." He said and quickly walked in the opposite direction.
"The rest of you, come with me," Marcus said. They all nodded and got on their horses.
Geta called out to him as the carriage was moving.  "Acacius, I hope you know what you're doing!"
He still didn't fully trust the other guards accompanying Geta, so he didn't want to tell him his plan yet.
"I need both your patience and your trust, Your Majesty."
"You've got both as long as you save my sister.”
Marcus felt his heart beating faster with worry. He really wanted to come and get you out of there as soon as possible. But he had to think carefully. He knew that if he acted without thinking things through, he might lose you. Besides, he had to be absolutely sure that he got Macrinus this time too.
The guards at Palatine Hill were surprised to see the carriage coming earlier than expected. Geta stepped into the courtyard with Marcus. He tried to take Geta away from the guards, however, two of them came over to them.
"General, we want to help you. We are loyal to the emperor Geta, you can trust us."
Marcus seemed unsure.
"They are in a dilemma because their commander has not yet been chosen, Acacius. Macrinus' side and mine." Geta explained.
"Yes, there are others outside who are on Macrinus' side, sir. But I'm not, and my team here are all loyal to you, highness.”
"You were always so keen to be a Praetorian," Marcus said, looking at the guard. He realised that he was his childhood friend.
"Do you remember me? I thought you might have forgotten." He gave a little smile.
"Yes, you weren't eager to join the army, so I didn't hassle you about it too much."
"I wanted to serve the emperor, General Acacius."
"I see," said Marcus, smiling back.
"I was really proud when I saw you become a general of Rome, you know."
Marcus nodded his thanks.
"That's very touching gentleman, but can you tell us what to do now, our glorious general?" Geta said impatiently.
"Cato!" Marcus called him to his side.
He came running at once. "Sir!"
Marcus put his hand on his shoulder. "We need your help."
Geta frowned. "Isn't that your squire? How can he help us?"
Marcus smiled confidently. "He has the same hair colour and the same size as you, your majesty."
"Excuse me?”
"We're going to confuse them. Could you take off your clothes and give them to Cato?"
Geta opened his eyes wide in surprise. "What did you just say? Tell me you are joking!"
Geta wasn't the only one taken aback. Cato and Octavius exchanged glances, clearly surprised.
Marcus let out a sigh. "He'll take your place, so we won't put you in danger."
"So this is your master plan, Acacius? You seem to have forgotten how clever that cunt is. Sooner or later, he'll figure out that your squire doesn't look handsome as I do." He said smugly. 
"It's not really a concern," Marcus said, grasping Cato's arm. "This buys us some time, at least. Until I get the Aurelia out of there."
They walked together to Geta's chamber. Geta grumbled the whole way but seemed to be convinced at last. Cato looked a bit out of place in the emperor's clothes. He glanced at them hesitantly. Marcus couldn't help but grin when he saw him in Geta's attire. Geta sized him up.
"Ugh, you look like another evil twin of mine! That is all I need!”
"Forgive me, Your Majesty." Cato said, bowing his head.
Marcus held out his hand to Geta. "Your Majesty, can you give me your crown too?"
"Gods above! This is disrespectful and unacceptable, Acacius!"
Marcus rolled his eyes. "It's just a symbol, an item. It has no significance. You don't need the crown to prove that you are an emperor, do you?"
“Huh, you just enjoy lecturing me, don't you?" Geta pursed his lips.
"We're running out of time here."
"Fine!" He gave his crown to him. Cato held his breath as Marcus placed the crown on his head.
"Hmph, if this won't work, I swear on Vesta's fire that I will punish you Acacius."
Marcus smirked in response.
Geta tugged fabric of his gown which made him look like a commoner. '"Whatever, let's get this done as soon as possible and then I shall drink wine until I get drunk so I can forget all about it." He refused to look at their faces as he left his chamber.
As they descended the stairs, Marcus touched Cato on the shoulder. "Keep your face hidden at all costs. Even if they can't see it from a distance, there's still a risk."
"I'll do my best, general."
Marcus tapped his back. "May the Gods be on our side."
And as they approached the entrance to the great courtyard, they put their plan into action.
"Your Majesty, please," Marcus gestured to Geta.
Geta pursed his lips and involuntarily pulled the deep black cloak further up over his head. The gate opened and Marcus approached the carriage with Cato who was in the Emperor's toga, covering his face as naturally as possible. Cato struggled and pretended to resist him. The guards waiting outside, watching them, did not seem to suspect anything. Marcus swiftly pushed Cato into the carriage and told the coachman to start the horses. He then turned to the guards.
"Lead the way!" He said to them. They kicked their horses toward in front of the carriage. Marcus and the others got on their own horses, following the carriage from behind.
The other guards, those who had stayed behind in the palace to protect the real emperor Geta, put on their cloaks over their armour. They were going to take him back to Curia Julia in secret. It was already pretty quiet, as everyone else had left to accompany the false emperor. As per the plan, Marcus must turn his horse around halfway down the road and head for the Domus Vectiliana (Ludus Magnus).
After all, they were acting as if they didn't know where you were, and leading Geta straight into Macrinus' hands which it was not. So the plan was working perfectly. A little later, Marcus glanced at Octavius, and turned his horse round, making the guards surprised. The carriage kept going forward. They looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Their leader cursed and called out to some of them.
"Go after the general! The others stay with me!”
Marcus looked back over his shoulder at the guards who were chasing him as he rode his horse at a gallop. There were five of them. He needed to get rid of them without attracting attention.
"Come on!" He challenged them, drew his sword and turned his horse. He had one of them in his sights. He aimed at his leg and lunged before he could draw his sword, and the man let out a groan and fell off his horse. They were getting closer to the streets.The others yelled and drew their swords, rushing to attack Marcus but he was quick to dodge the attacks of two of them and managed to knock them off their horses. He rode his horse into the alleys to get rid of the rest. People screamed and ran to get out of the way to avoid being crushed by the horses.
"Where the hell is he heading to?" One of them asked the other.
"I think he found out where the princess is! Go there and warn the others before he gets there!”
As soon as they said that, they were both struck down by arrows from nowhere and fell to the ground. Marcus turned and saw Lexus and his men. He stopped his horse and nodded his thanks. Then, without wasting any time, he ordered the curious people out of the way and kicked his horse forward again. Since there was no obstacle in his way, he should be heading to get to you now.
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The minutes and hours passed by, and the pain in your legs became increasingly difficult to bear. And you gave up. As you sat on the floor in the cold, smelly, dirty cell, you played with the wedding ring on your finger. Your mind was racing with questions. Why wasn't anyone coming? Or is it too late for everything now? Marcus, Geta... Your heart ached. It was torture, waiting there helplessly, hoping for rescue desperately, unable to do anything. You suddenly felt a pressure under your belly, right where your womb was. You put your hands right on it.
"Ssshh, calm down, my little one. I know you've been through a lot, but hang in there a little longer, please. Your father will come to save us, I promise you. Take his strength, take his courage and hold on. Our little miracle. We will always love you and protect you. So please try to hang in there.”
All of a sudden, a few shouts and the sound of swords clashing came from upstairs. The guards immediately tensed up and gripped the hilts of their swords. You jumped to your feet, unlike them, you felt excitement. Your heart was filled with hope. The sound of the iron gate opening loudly reverberated off the stone walls, and a moment later you saw a guard rolling down the stairs with the deafening sound of his iron armour ringing in your ears. The guards immediately drew their swords at someone on the stairs. First, you heard his angry roar and then Marcus himself rushed down the stairs, kicked one of the guards, and pushed him against the wall. The other swung his sword at him, Marcus crouched and lunged and cut his leg.
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"Marcus!" You called out to him cheerfully.
He looked at you and smiled, but the other guard lunged at him, waving his sword.
"Marcus look out!" You pointed at him.
He managed to avoid the lunge at the last moment and hit his opponent in the back with the handle of his sword, causing him to stumble. As he lunged at him again, Marcus drew his pugio and knocked his sword out of his hand with both sword and pugio. And with a really neat move, he cut his neck. The stone walls were covered in a red, rusty-smelling liquid. You ran over to the iron bars and grabbed them. Marcus wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand and looked at you. He looked at you with an intense gaze, his brown eyes sparkling.
"My lady." He said in a soft, velvety voice. "Forgive me for being late." He reached his hand through the bars to touch your face. "How could he imprison you in such a vile place? Did he hurt you?"
You grasped his hand with both of yours and kissed it. "No, I'm alright, don't worry." You forced a smile.
"How can I not, my love? My beloved. My soul. My breath." He then let out a sigh of relief, stroking your chin with his thumb. "Thank the Gods I found you safe and sound." He then gripped the iron bars and jerked them angrily, cursing.
"That man has the key," you said, pointing to one of the guards lying on the floor. Marcus went to him, bent down, and turned his lifeless body to check.
"Geta? Is he okay?”
"He is for now. We don't have much time, though. We need to get out of here now." He took the keys from the man and approached you. He unlocked the cell, setting you free. You took a step towards him and reached out to hug him.
"My lady, there is some blood on me-" You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his chest. "...and I'm not very clean." He finished his sentence with a murmur.
"I don't care." You said, closing your eyes and hugging him tighter. You ignored the blood smearing your cheek from his armour and the smell of it.
He lifted his hand to touch your hair, but his hand was covered in blood. He clenched his hand into a fist and wrapped his arm around you, inhaling your scent without touching you. He then pulled back.
"Aurelia, we have to leave, now." His voice was firm.
You nodded and walked towards the stairs while avoiding stepping in the puddle of blood on the ground. Marcus noticed your nervousness and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you into his lap. You looked at his face as he walked up the stairs with you in his arms. He looked very serious and stern, and you could guess what he was feeling, and what he was thinking. It must have been hard for him to find you in a situation where he almost lost you somehow, and to fight to make sure that didn't happen. To kill someone every time, to have blood on his hands. But for Marcus, finding you safe and sound was enough, he didn't care about the rest. He walked through the countless guards lying lifeless on the ground and carried you out in his arms. You were angry that he had to kill them because of Macrinus. It was all his fault, so many people had died because of him so far. Marcus lowered you to the ground beside his horse.
"It may be a bit of a rough ride, but try to hold on, will you?"
You nodded. "I can manage.”
He smiled and moved the saddle back a little so you could sit on it. He then settled in front of you. You put your arms around his waist. Marcus took hold of your arms around him. "Hold on tighter, princess."
Even though you couldn't see his face, you knew he was smiling. He grabbed the horse's reins and kicked his horse forward. You wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could. With each jolt, your cheek bumped against his back.
"Where are we heading now?" You asked.
As you passed the Colosseum, you noticed the sun was setting over the hills ahead.
"First, I'll take you to the Curia Julia."
You tilted your head to get a better look at his face. "I'm not coming with you?"
He raised an eyebrow and looked at you out of the corner of his eye. "No, Aurelia, I've got a few platoons of my soldiers heading to the area around Macrinus' villa. We need to get ready for the upcoming skirmish."
"You're going to fight the Praetorian Guards?"
He sighed, “I hope not. But if it's necessary to finish off Macrinus, yes.”
You swallowed, nothing was over yet. "Why Curia Julia?"
"Geta is there with the other consuls. The rest of the guards will be guarding them. It's the safest place for you right now.”
Marcus pulled up his horse near the stairs of the Curia Julia. He dismounted and then led you down. A few of the guards came over and nodded at you.
"If there's any trouble, make sure you keep Princess Aurelia and Emperor Geta safe." He spoke to one of them in a firm tone.
"We shall protect them with our lives, general! You just finish him off!" The man put his hand on his chest. "Vae victis.”
Marcus replied. "Vae victis." Then he mounted his horse quickly and looked at you.
"Come back safely!" You said, looking at him.
He nodded and turned his horse around, kicking it forward. You watched him leave until he was out of sight.
"This way, my lady," the guard said.
You felt abandoned as you climbed the stairs with him. Soon you heard a familiar voice.
"Sister!" You looked towards Geta's voice and your eyes widened in surprise. He was wearing a black cloak over regular attire. And what's more, he was in an official building like the Curia Julia with it.
He hugged you and pulled back to look at you. "I was so worried about you, are you alright?"
You nodded your head, it was a little strange to see him like this. "What happened to your fancy toga and crown?"
"Your husband's ingenious plan." He said, rolling his eyes. "Come, rest inside. Your face is as white as marble." He put his arm around you and pulled you inside.
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As dusk fell, Marcus was urging his horse to a rapid pace, hastening towards Macrinus' villa. What he saw coming down the hill wasn't quite what he'd expected. His troops had already arrived and it was clear that a battle had taken place and probably been won, but Macrinus was nowhere to be seen.
"General!" One of the soldiers recognised him.
Marcus looked around and noticed Cato in the distance, who was wounded near the carriage ahead. Felix and Aris came over to him. "What the hell happened?" He asked them.
"Sir, the plan worked, but Macrinus wounded Cato and then they attacked us. We managed to kill them all, but unfortunately, he escaped and we couldn't stop him."
"How do you mean he escaped?" Marcus’ voice was like a roar.
"Octavius and a few soldiers went after him, sir."
"Which way did they go?"
"That way," Aris said, pointing down the hill.
"I'll go after them. All of you gather around at once. Take the wounded ones to the Field of Mars."
"Sir, what about them?"
Marcus looked in the direction he was pointing and saw the members of the senate who were loyal to Macrinus. They were looking at him with a look of concern on their faces.
"The rest of you, take them to the Roman Forum and wait there for my arrival." He said, looking at them from a distance. "Can you confirm that the other troops are still controlling the entrances and exits to the city?"
"Yes, sir. The city is currently sealed off."
"Good." He said, pulling on the reins of his horse, which reared up with a loud neigh. "Make them assemble at once and get moving!" He commanded.
As he rode, perhaps faster than he had ever ridden before, determined to catch Macrinus at any cost, he realised that he missed his horse, Dromos. He promised himself that when all this was over, he would return home and see his old friend again. And then he could go out riding with you again. However, at the moment, he just had to focus on finding and getting rid of the source of all his recent problems. Before long, he heard the sound of swords clashing, so he rode towards it. He saw his soldiers and the guards were fighting, but they seemed to be getting along.
"Octavius is following him, sir!" a soldier pointed ahead. Then he killed the guard he was fighting, and he jumped on his horse to follow his general. The other one did the same too.
Marcus was soon excited to realise that Octavius was running after Macrinus on foot. He was very close. Marcus called out to the soldiers behind him.
"Block his way!”
They did as he said and rode their horses around either side of Macrinus, to block him from going any further. He realised this and started running backwards. Marcus seized the chance and leaped off his horse to capture him. They ended up rolling on the ground together. Macrinus tried to fight back, but he was so tired that he gave up and collapsed, taking a few punches to the face from Marcus in the process.
The others walked towards their General. All of them stared down at the panting, treacherous, sixty-year-old dark-skinned man. Marcus drew his sword, Macrinus cursed, crawled back. But Marcus did something that even surprised himself. He thrust his sword into the ground right next to Macrinus.
Octavius touched his shoulder, "Sir." There were a lot of questions in his tone.
‘We're heading to the Roman Forum. Bring him along."
The soldiers looked at each other, confused.
"But sir..." Octavius protested.
"This cunt must be punished by the emperor Geta himself."
Macrinus gave a hysterical laugh, but it was clear he was upset with that decision.
"You don't deserve a painless death," he said, looking at him. "I'm sure the emperor has far more creative ideas for you."
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The atmosphere in the Curia Julia was palpably tense, with everyone visibly anxious and on the brink of exhaustion. The noise was unbearable and it was giving you a headache. But Geta was determined. He had no intention of sending anyone home yet. This will be solved today, he said. He made you sit in the imperial seat that belonged to Caracalla, since you were exhausted, you didn't object, despite Julia's glare. Furthermore, it was clear that the Consuls had other matters to discuss, and did not care the fact that you were sitting there. Fortunately the murmuring of the crowd was soon heard outside, and everyone turned their heads in the direction of the footsteps approaching the hall.
Your heart pounded with both excitement and nervousness. You felt immense relief when you saw Marcus a short while later. Geta leapt to his feet and looked at him, his eyes wide open. Since you focused on Marcus' face and only later realised who he had brought to the middle of the great hall. When Macrinus fell to his knees on the floor, the consuls first looked at him in astonishment and then started shouting.
"Traitor!"
"He should be beheaded!"
"Throw him from Tarpeian Rock!"
Geta raised his hand and they all fell silent. You and Marcus looked at each other from a distance, wondering why he hadn't killed him. However, he was in a good mood and you were grateful to finally see his sincere smile.
"General Acacius." Geta called him. "On behalf of the Roman people, I am grateful to you for capturing this traitor and bringing him before me, before the Council. He will be judged here, before Roman law, and his final sentence will be given. The council is now in session."
"Your Majesty," someone stated. "I am afraid a council session is not yet feasible in these circumstances. Since your crown is absent and the attire you are wearing is not fit for this occasion. Furthermore, I must point out that it is inappropriate for two women to be present at this time. I demand that the necessary conditions be imposed."
And they all murmured, some agreeing and some objecting.
"Denied!" Geta said firmly. The man frowned and sat down. "Even without my crown, my true identity remains unchanged. Also, the women you are referring to are my mother, your empress, and my sister, your Princess, Aurelia."
Marcus looked at him with a confident half-smile. You could see the pride in his look.
Geta continued. "If there are no other ridiculous objections I will continue. You have all been waiting here all morning, so I will formalise things for the sake of Rome before I tire you out any further."
He silenced the murmurs and continued. His speech took everyone by surprise, including you. At the end of the session, the verdict was reached: Caracalla was declared a tyrant, and all his decrees, orders, wills, and other belongings were declared null and void. Macrinus tried to object several times, but no one dared to stand up for him or support him. Now it was his turn to be punished.
"He was really into training these gladiators and investing in them. Then I'd like to give him a fitting punishment." Geta said with a grin. Then he turned to him. "You will be thrown into the Colosseum, along with the rest of your followers. Your fate will be decided by the gods and the people of Rome." He looked at the guards. "Now get him out of my sight, I don't want to see his ugly face anymore."
Ignoring the pleas of the councilors who had helped Macrinus, Geta closed the session and everyone began to murmur once more. He came over to you, a big grin on his face.
"I can't wait to see that wretched Macrinus in the Colosseum tomorrow!"
You smiled in response. "You did well, brother."
He smiled widely. Marcus approached you both. Geta looked at him.
"Acacius, I'm surprised you didn't kill him, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad. It'll be fun tomorrow!" He said, clapping his hands. He winked at you and then went over to his mother.
You looked at Marcus. "I think it's finally over now. We can rest easy, can't we?"
"Yes, my lady," he said, holding your hand. "It's over now.”
You just stared at each other for a while, speaking through your eyes. The councilors left the hall, murmuring, while Geta and his mother had a brief argument. All of this faded into the background for you.
"Looks like we'll be spending another night on Palatine Hill."
Marcus smirked. "One last night. Then tomorrow we'll be heading back to the villa, our home."
You smiled. "Thank the Gods. I miss our home so much."
"I know, me too. Shall we leave now? I need a good bath, and as my wife, you can help me, can't you?" He smirked.
You lifted your head to whisper in his ear. "Anything you wish, my love.”
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You arrived at Domus Severiana in the late afternoon. As soon as you stepped into the courtyard, you ordered the slaves to prepare the balneum for you two.
The stone walls of the balneum were softly caressed by the soothing steam of the hot water, while a variety of flowers floated on the surface, their sweet scent creating a tranquil atmosphere in this spacious bath house.  Marcus was in the water, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. You were right behind him, running your slender fingers over his flesh, rubbing his arms and shoulders, helping him to recover from the fatigue of the day.
"Your healing touch has refreshed my body and soul," he murmured. Then he took your hand and brought it to his lips, his collarbone, his chest, running it all over his body. Then he turned towards you, his movement causing some of the water to spill over. You swallowed as his eyes traveled over your naked body, your heart racing with excitement. He reached out for you, grabbed you around the waist, and pulled you into the water. "Now it's my turn to touch you.”
This time the water overflowed, and a lot of the flowers on the surface ended up floating away.
You giggled as Marcus ran his lips along your neck to your collarbone. "You meant to touch me with your lips? But I am in the water, so how are you going to touch the rest of my body I wonder?" You asked playfully.
"I sense a challenge." He murmured, his warm breath brushing against your collarbone. "I shall accept." He then grabbed your hips and lifted you, placing you on his shoulders. His head was between your thighs, your heels touched his back. You moaned with pleasure and laughed as his lips touched your folds. Your back arched instinctively as you felt his tongue in your most sensitive spot. You gripped his grey hair tightly with your fingers.
"Marcus! I am going to- ow!"
"Isn't it too soon, my love?"
You looked down at his face and saw that he was grinning.
"No, I meant to say that I'm going to fall, not come.”
He pulled his head back, supported your back with one hand and lowered you down onto the edge of the tub. "I've been a bit busy, I must have misheard." He grinned again. Without getting out of the water, he pulled you closer and continued where he left off. He stuck his marvellous tongue out and licked your most sensitive spot. You gasped and hitched your legs around his head, drawing him closer. He rolled his tongue up and down as he used his hand to probe at your lower lips. His beard tickled you as your breathing quickened. Adrenaline flooded your body as your pulled on his hair, bringing him closer, as he sucked and consumed you mercilessly. You bucked into him and he responded in turn with a little nip. You threw your head back as you gasped once more, feeling like you were losing your mind. Shaking, sweating, your entire body pulsed with pleasure as you clamped your legs around him.
You moaned loudly. "I am definitely coming this time!"
"Come for me, my love. Let me taste you.”
And immediately after his command, you came with a loud moan. Marcus kissed your belly and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you into the water. He kissed you on the lips with great passion, you wrapped your arms around him. The water made everything a little slippery, but Marcus was determined to grip your hips roughly, puling you closer. You wrapped your legs firmly against his waist, feeling his need press against you in the most delicious way. You couldn't stop your moans with each and every thrust and neither could he, and you began to feel him deeply inside you, he thrust deeper and deeper, pushing you both closer and closer to the edge. He grabbed your hair, gathering behind the nape of your neck and pulling your face closer, claiming your mouth with his teeth and imploring tongue. And you came for him once more, moaning into his mouth. He then reached his climax right after with a groan.
Breathing heavily, you slumped in the tub, he was holding you close, kissing your chin then beneath your ear. You listened to the peaceful sound of water echoing off the damp walls until your breathing calmed. Without pulling out, he wrapped his arms around you and you rested your head on his shoulder. Once your both breathing and racing hearts had calmed, he stood up and led you out of the tub too.
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On the following day, the capital of Rome was on the brink of witnessing one of the most momentous days in its history. The Council's decision, Geta's proclaiming absolute emperorship to the entire populace, was followed by the announcement of the execution of the traitor Macrinus and his supporters in the Colosseum.  As the sun reached its zenith, people were making their way towards the colossal structure, engaged in quiet conversation.
The emperor's carriage soon arrived near the Colosseum, where the people greeted Geta with great enthusiasm. You and Marcus were in the other carriage, which you got out of together and waved to the people who were cheering your name. The trumpets were blown, and as you walked towards the Imperial tribune, the announcer called out Geta's name. Everyone stood up and cheered him enthusiastically.
“Caesar! Caesar! Caesar! Caesar!”
Geta raised his hands and gave them the salute, then turned to you and held out his hand. And then they announced your name. You took Geta's hand and stood next to him.
"Princess Aurelia!"
The crowd clapped and cheered even more enthusiastically. You placed your right hand on your chest and saluted the crowd. It was then time for Marcus's name to be announced.
“General Marcus Justus Acacius!”
The crowd roared his name over and over.
“Acacius! Acacius! Acacius! Acacius!”
Marcus gave them a smile and a salute in return. Caracalla's seat has been removed and two seats have been added on either side of the emperor, as per his orders. At Geta's gesture, you took the seat next to him, and Marcus sat next to you.
And the trumpets sounded again. The announcer cut them off and carried on:
"For his treachery against the life of the Emperor and the Roman Empire, Marcus Opellius Macrinus is declared an enemy of the people. He has been stripped of his membership of the Senate and all those who aided and abetted him will bring to the arena in chains today, to face judgement, your judgement, people of Rome!"
When the iron gate sprung open, Macrinus and his supporters were brought into the middle of the arena in chains. The crowd booed them.
"Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!"
The Announcer called the crowd to silence, listed his crimes one by one, which Macrinus replied with a smug smile.
Crowded roared. “Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!”
Geta stood up and went over to the balustrade. But then he glanced back at you and beckoned you over. You looked at Marcus and stood up, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with you. He didn’t resist and followed you.
"What do you think, sister? Mercy?"
All three of you were looking at Macrinus. Julia, who was watching you from behind, seemed angry with Geta for not calling her mother to his side. She crossed her arms and made a face.
Looking at Macrinus from a distance, you shook your head. "No mercy." You said firmly.
Geta smiled and looked at Marcus. "Acacius?"
"Having mercy on the traitor is a betrayal to the innocent!" Said Marcus without taking his eyes off Macrinus. You smiled and held his hand, he was so right.
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Geta put his arms up. "The gods have spoken!" And then he lowered both hands down. The executioner nodded and separated Macrinus's head from his body in a single stroke.
The crowd cheered. It was the first time you'd ever felt so relieved that a man was dead. Marcus let out a deep sigh, feeling the same way. When it was the turn of the other traitors, they shared Macrinus' fate too. Marcus leaned towards Geta. "Speak to your people, Your Majesty, show that you are a true emperor. They need it."
Geta looked at him, then nodded. He took a deep breath.
"The people of Rome! I promise you that from now on I will restore Rome to its rightful glory! During my reign, there will no longer be any Romans who are hungry or poor. I pledge that no Roman rights will be infringed upon, and that all will enjoy equal conditions. I promise you, as your emperor, that I will strive to make Rome the greatest empire in the world!"
You and Marcus looked at each other as the crowd continued to cheer and applaud, their enthusiasm growing. This was precisely what you had hoped to hear. It seemed that the people were also pleased. You admired Geta's personal development and believed with all your heart that he would do what he promised.
Now it was time. It was time for you and your husband to return to your home in peace.
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xiaomainlmao · 2 days ago
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Kinich x reader
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Kinich always believed that he had to do things on his own. A tough negotiator, he knows better than anyone else that all things come at a price. Thus, to avoid being indebted to anyone, he preferred doing things on his own from a very tender age.
Some people don't like him because he always charges mora for his services- he's aware, but he never bothered with the opinions of others. There's only a select few for whom he would do favours for "free", if he feels like it that is. (And even then, "free" just means without mora, but in return for other valuables or acts of service like with Mualani or Kachina).
Thus, even when he saw the commission with "unknown details" and with a "threat potentially greater than a few rabid saurians", he did not bother asking for more details, or bringing anyone to back him up.
Bad decision, he realises, pushed to a corner by abyssal beasts. The "rabid saurians" he had to take out, had already been taken out. A small group consisting of yumkasaurs and koholasaurs slaughtered by the mimiflora, who now took on the form of the dead beasts.
An abyssal pylon must be nearby, the frequency of the monsters confirms it, but it doesn't seem to be in plain sight.
"Ah your foolishness will finally lead to your doom! This HAS to be the moment I, the Great Dragonlord K'uhul Ajaw, have been waiting for. Now rejoice! For once I have taken over your mortal form, I shall grant you the mercy of avenging you." The pixelated being floats higher into the sky, perhaps to get a better view of Kinich's current predicament.
"You talk too much." Kinich growls, not sparing even a glance to Ajaw, long used to his antics.
He effectively shields himself with his greatsword from another one of the beast's attacks while another tries to claw at his abdomen. He wasn't caught off-guard by the number of enemies, merely outwitted. In any other situation, all he had to do was destroy the pylon, and defeat the remaining beasts.
If only the pylon were in sight...
Kinich barely dodges the yumkasaur that leaps at him, his braids coming undone. He's panicking a bit now, being reminded of the time he died in the Night Warden Wars, but he doesn't intend to retreat, not yet.
If only the pylon were in sight....
"Lean backwards! Quick!"
He hears a voice, and instinctively obeys. However, he isn't sure if he moved in time, as he feels a warm liquid seeping through his pants near his calf.
Blood.
With his leg injured, he's bound to be held back even more now. Kinich gazes down at his bleeding leg, and lifts his head just in time to see shards of ice appear in front of him, creating a barrier between him and the mimiflora.
"Delivery for 'Malipo' Kinich! Chief Wayna told me you'd be here. You were gone for longer than usual, and he started getting antsy." You used your rope to swing to Kinich's side, a small smile on your face and your polearm in tow.
"UggHH YOU MEASLY INSECT! HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT THE PROCESS THROUGH WHICH I COULD HAVE ATTAINED THIS GRASSHOPPER'S MORTAL FORM." A very red Ajaw slowly descended downwards to where the both of you stood, causing you to chuckle.
"My apologies, Great Dragonlord," you tease, "but it's not over yet."
"There has to be an abyssal pylon nearby, I just don't know where," the saurian hunter states, bracing himself for the approaching mitachurl.
"Ah yeah, those things. It's up there." Kinich follows your gaze and notices the tiny blackhole hidden behind a foliage. "Ah, so that's why he didn't notice it."
"You're injured. You probably won't be able to stand the attacks." You quickly assess his stumbling form.
"No I ca-"
"Deal with the pylon, I'll deal with the monsters." With a quick spin of your polearm, you charge at the mitachurl, swiftly cutting through its mask before using your cryo vision to freeze the surrounding hilichurls in place. Kinich watches your stable form hindered by his bangs. A bead of sweat dripping down to his chin.
"You lowly SERVANT. Are you really just going to stand here? Make a choice you dimwit." Ajaw screeches.
The saurian hunter regains his composure at this, quickly flicking his hair to the side and using his grappling hooks to reach the branch. He glances at your fighting form one last time before dealing with the pylon.
The cries of the hilichurls dies down almost immediately. Relaxing, Kinich stumbles down to the ground, realising the weakness in his legs. And his bleeding wound. He sighs as you approach him.
"What do you want in return for saving me?"
You don't reply, instead you kneel down by his side to assess his leg. "Here, let me cool it down." Cryo energy flows around the blood-stained claw marks, making the hunter hiss in pain.
"Give me your hand, I'll take you back to the tribe. Cryo isn't the best substitute for an ice-pack."
"No, it's alright. I'll get back on my own. I don't want to be indebted to anyone."
"Hmm..." placing a hand on your chin, you pretend to think as a smile creeps up on your face. "You asked me if I wanted something in return, correct?"
"Yes?"
"Well, in return for saving your life, I would like for you to listen to me and let me help you."
"But that would only make me more indebted to you-"
"I'm not really seeking for anything in return. But since you don't take things for free, I'm asking for your compliance."
"..."
"Please, Kinich. Help me help you."
Sighing, he takes your outstretched hand, letting you take the lead back to the tribe.
"HAH. So my lowly servant decides to succumb to someone else. SO MUCH for not taking favours. Hey wait- ARE EITHER OF YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME. DON'T LEAVE ME BEHIND YOU MORTALS."
Well, that's another headache for Kinich to deal with- finding a way to repay you.
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Thank you for motivating me into writing a Kinich fic <3 @aurumalatus
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shinkei-shinto · 23 hours ago
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Let's see if I can add MORE confusion in with my previous close reading of every single book in the series so that I could write my own Redwall novel!*
I see that you OP have heard of The Cookbook but for everybeast else: there's a cookbook! Most of the recipes are extremely simplistic but we'll get to why I think that is in a second.
WRT dairy: they make mention of "greensap milk" and I don't think any of their cheese comes without nuts. In ahhhh the one with the badger and his hawk, they talk more deeply about how cheeses are made (after you have the cheese) including wrapping them in nettles. So I Guess So since it apparently acts Just Like Dairy Cheese.
Yes! We are! Society doesn't exist yet! If you look at the books in chronological order, they move from using spears and sharpened stakes to swords and daggers and simple bows, and - in the last couple of books - crossbows. There's only one smithy and it's made in a dormant/dead volcano. They're literally just not that advanced at this point (although who knows where this would have gone if Jacques had been able to continue!) In earlier books, he refers to various tribes of species all living together in groups, such as squirrels in bands of trees, or the molehill of the Longladle family. Actually circling back to this there *is* one society that sort of rises up as a "city" -- in the Rogue Crew. There's a group of peaceable beasts who all live (mixed!) together in an enclosed sort of fort. It's one of the only other mixed-species places that exist, besides the Abbey and technically Salamandastron. (does Martin's temporary home have other species? I can't remember.) So this is also why I think recipes are a little simplistic. While they have so many vegetables (and don't UTILIZE THEM why are potatoes ONLY USED IN DEEPER'N'EVER PIE!? HUH??!) I think we're given to assume those are local and grown in their own ground, and they don't. have. spices/trade/etc yet.
*I* think the only idea of 'currency' is 'the currency of goodbeasts to do slave labor'. I think this one I would lean more heavily into "he was telling these stories to children" as an excuse; kids don't want to hear about money and capitalism they want to hear about pirates and heroes. But I also find this aspect of society confusing so I was mostly glad we didn't have to deal with money.
There's a bread dimension. That's my only excuse. As far as we know, the Abbey is very large - the front gates are tall enough to admit a full sized ship on wheels (a casualty of one mast) which is able to roll fully into the Abbey, hit a tree, and stop, without ever coming within weapons range of the front doors. We know there are lawns on either side of this path, a graveyard, a small-to-medium-sized spring-fed-lake, and a generous orchard. I assume Jacques was modeling this after abbeys in Europe/England, which I don't know jack and shit about, but that they did live there year round. shrug? I will note that there is a scene in a book (no I don't remember which one) where a gardener explains to a peer that 'we don't plant or harvest it all at once because then we'd have a bumper crop of parsley and what use is that? by planting some seedlings now, some later, we will have parsley throughout the season instead' so he was thinking about it, at least, even if it doesn't quite work out to reality terms. but there's just a fucking bread dimension, there just has to be, there's not enough room to grow the plants needed nor mills to grind them nor processing or ever making or even mention of flour. I GUESS we could talk about nutflour and other flour-like-flowers which the mice would have access to but BREAD DIMENSION. This was my one concession in my writing, I gave myself an out here because it drove me NUTS.
I don't think Jacques ever thought about this. We get ONE instance of a mouse adopting a. rat? what the hell is he. I think he wasn't the same species, I don't remember that one well, but there's him and Tagg, and that's "otter adopted by vermin" which isn't quite this either. I think this is probably another "kids story concession" which isn't an answer I like to give but it's the best I've got.
ha! ha! he actually retconned this! if you read Redwall the first book, he makes mention of several species (beaver? horse) which are WIPED FROM EXISTENCE in the rest of the series. There is a cart drawn by a horse which makes it seem like the mice and rats are living in a world with humans & human-sized equipment but that is RETCONNED. I do think the trees vary in size because we have various scenes of "two maidens bound hand-to-hand around a tree to keep them confined for the night" and "tied all [4-6?] of the vermin together with their belts, around a tree" in various locations in Mossflower and its environs. I don't? think? we ever hear of trees large enough to be giants to mice like they would in our reality. an addendum to this: I have never bloody been able to figure out the size of the fish. shrimps are the size of shrimp to us because otters eventually 'Skipper popped one in his mouth' in the kitchens which gives us an idea of how large they are to otters, at least. but fish??? ha. HA! we have the feast-day fish catching where multiple beasts are needed to reel in a huge trout or carp. we have pike, which are enormous man-eaters (mice-eaters?) but can also be beat to shit by a big otter and his rudder (Lord Brocktree iirc) and there is one kept as a tame uh, "pet", by an otter tribe. there is ALSO the wolf question. Gods know I don't remember which one this is but there's a book where a ... big fox? i think he is? is up far north, and he finds a dead wolf? and takes its skull and pelt and puts knives in for the claws? or some such. so we DO have extra-large-predators like wolves and wolverine, but then when we get. to the wildcats. oh the wildcats. they drive me NUTS. by rights they should be as big as badgers? when Martin fights Verdauga it feels like Martin is half the size of the cat? but then in every other way the cats seem to be as big as otters! or hares! uugghhh. BIRDS TOO birds are WILDLY inconsistent in size, I don't know how a mouse helps an osprey re-set his wing nor how a mousebabe rides on a flying eagle's head without disappearing.
do I have any burning questions still. hmm. OH I want to know what they make! their clothing! out of!!! WHAT IS IT. I also want answers about the far west, the scorpion??? and lizards??? as well as what the other side of the continent towards the east looks like, because in Martin's history we get to visit that coast AND we learn of several locations (TM) like Noonvale, which are never referred to again.
which BLOWS MY MIND because he made Brockhall + Castle Kotir literally affect the landscape temporally throughout his books. Brockhall is discovered and rediscovered and lost again and again, and Kotir eventually rises from the dead to menace the Abbey wall because fucking Germaine built a wall over the top of it when it sank into a mire. MA'AM. Even when we get to Doomwyte, the cavern they are in is a cavern mentioned in earlier texts! this is not our first interaction with the deep deep fissure in the earth that emits green gas!!!
oh and The Tapestry. I have so many questions about the tapestry. canonically the image of Martin was sewn by his (mother? wife? someone) and preserved through many things to eventually be set as the 'cornerstone' for the tapestry. And it "depicts vermin fleeing from him in all directions" and his "calm easy face" which seems to smile at Redwallers etc etc. but then. the SWORD. sometimes it it set next to the tapestry which to me makes sense; held vertically along the side it is accessible to many but not to babes. I don't think it is ever placed below the tapestry. but it IS placed ABOVE and there is a part where a goodbeast does acrobatic parkour to SNATCH IT FROM THE NAILS and I want to know HOW??? how big is the tapestry. how did you get that. is it landscape or portrait. what. WHAT. also where did the shield go! where did the sheath go! those were so important aaagaggghhhhhh.
Okay that's it I think I'm done. I hope any of this was useful or amusing, or better yet caused more chaos and questions 👍
^* I did in fact write most of this, 50k/100k words over two NaNos, but I could never get anyone to fucking read it or give me any feedback, despite handing out the first fifteen chapters to like seven people, so I lost steam. So if you're reading this and going "wow! I sure would like to read even more Redwall content and I would LOVE to get into in-depth discussions of shit in a fanbook, this sounds like a great way to build community," HI PICK ME.
hobbies include: close reading the Redwall series to answer my most burning questions. such as:
- can I replicate any of these delicious-sounding foodstuffs and would they in fact be delicious if I was able to
- corollary to the above: are we just supposed to read “oat cream” and “nut cheese” every time we see the words “cream” and “cheese”? I think so. bc if not, what tha hell are their livestock animals
- what is Society like? I don’t think we ever see a Mouse City or even Mouse Town though we do see castles and obviously an abbey. are we supposed to believe that most creatures are either in wandering bands or these societies based around a single structure (castle/abbey?)
- they appear to have an idea of what currency is (the bad guys always want treasure — maybe just to have, not to sell? but less ambiguous is some dialogue I just read, “acorn for your thoughts?” “you can have them for free”) but again, we never see anyone using money or making goods for the market. is this after the fall of Mouse Capitalism? are the bad guys (the idea of rat pirates gives me a headache, vis a vis the political/economic systems needed to power piracy) raiding preindustrial mouse societies for treasure/meat?
- corollary to the above: the abbey creatures have oats and wheat but we don’t see anybody farming or trading for farm goods on a large enough scale. is the abbey “orchard” really a like an indigenous forest farm of mixed foodstuffs? is that possible if you live in the same place the whole year or only if you travel each season? I have to do some googling
- both the lack of mixed-species families and the idea of mixed-species families give me a headache. has a squirrel never fallen for a handsome otter? what is the culture shock like if you marry into a subterranean mole family?
- this is the least “important” question but this read through I’ve been desperately trying to figure out What Size Everything Else Is. i’ve come to the conclusion that everything other than animals are at mouse scale, given that they can make seaworthy vessels their own size (a mouse sized vessel with real-world-sized waves seems impossible) and pick and eat apples and plums. but so far it seems like they’ve avoided mentioning how tall trees are — like a person compared to a tree or a mouse compared to a tree?
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miioouu · 2 days ago
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Ghost's New Neighbour pt2
I wasn’t planning on making a second part of this, but since you all like it and asked for it, here we go, i guess. Tw: Smut, Oral (male receiving), no gender used for reader (but a little feminine?), mean Ghost (sorry, i tried many times to write a sweet simon fic but i just can’t!!) Wc: 842 
“Come over later, 8:30 pm sharp, I don't appreciate tardiness” His words ring in your ears, distracting you from your tasks. How are you supposed to focus on putting your plates away when you can still feel the ghost of his lips against your skin? 
You know it’s a bad idea; first of all, he’s your neighbour, it’ll be awkward later on, you’ll definitely regret it, and what if the word comes out; do you really want to be known as the building’s resident slut? Second of all, he’s a stranger, you don’t know anything about him. Even the doorbell doesn’t have his name on it, paper white without even an initial or anything to give you a clue about this mysterious man. You’ll regret it, you definitely will. 
So why are you smoothing down your clothes? Rechecking your lipstick for the nth time? Why are your fingers hovering above this damn ringer, throwing all morals away?
It’s 8:30 sharp when the ding echoes in his rather empty apartment; he chuckles, part of him certain that you’d come over, the other held hope that you’d be a little wiser than this, a little more modest than this; but you weren’t, of course not, else you wouldn’t have let you touch him like he did in the elevator, wouldn’t have shivered when his words tickled your ear, wouldn’t have gotten wet at the feather-like brushing of his cock against your ass. No dignity, he thinks as he lazily makes his way over to open the door for you, internally laughing at the sight of you making yourself all pretty for him, what a nice shade of lipstick. 
He liked it so much, that pinkish tone that made you look a little more glowy, a little more flushed, not that you needed that enhanced. He liked it so much on your lips, and even more when it left a mark around his shaft. Honestly you don’t remember how you got here; one moment you were shuffling in his doorway, struggling to greet him without stuttering, the next you were in the middle of his living room, on your knees, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth languidly. His hands find your hair, guiding you back and forth around his length, setting a slow pace at first, wanting to relish in the feeling of your warm mouth, the tightness of your throat constricting as you gag whenever he pushes a little too deep. 
But Simon was never a patient man, sure he learned how to dismiss his frustration on the field, learned how to manipulate himself into being more forbearing, but he will not use those tricks now, not when he has bright, glossy eyes looking at him, begging him to use their mouth. Who was he to deny them anyway? He thought about warning you, but where’s the fun in that, right? In a swift motion, he pulls you closer until your nose nuzzles against his pelvic, his pubes tickling you but you don’t have time to adjust because he’s already pistoning his cock in and out your warm cave. He lets out a groan, his head falls back as he feels your nails dig in his thighs, holding onto him like a lifeline, creating bloody crescents on his skin, just some other scars to add to his collection. 
The once always empty, always eerily silent apartment, now feels suffocating, loud with groans and hisses from the tall man, mixed with your gagging echoing through the room. “Slut” that whispered word is what broke the chaotic symphony. Your pride is telling you to pull away, glare at him and defend your honor, but you can’t do that; not with his hands clutching at your hair and keeping you in place as he fucks your mouth, not when your thighs are pressing together, imagining, knowing, just how soaked the pretty panties you were wearing became.  
You can feel him getting closer to the edge with the way his thrusts became messier and more erratic, with the way his grip on your hair keeps tightening and getting loose over and over again, with the way his eyes are fluttering, cheeks are getting redder and his chest is heaving, letting out mumbled curses under his breath. “Fuck…come on make me cum, pretty girl” The demand alone made your thighs clench, a whimper escaped you, vibrating around him and sending goosebumps all over his body “Fuckin’ slut” he groans, accent heavy, as he finally stills, reaching deep as he releases ropes of hot, sticky liquid, painting your throat white. 
You’d think this was only the beginning, the way his hand loosens around your hair, massaging your scalp where he was pulling too hard, making you melt and whimper, heart skipping a beat at his gentleness, only to be broken the moment he pushes you back, adjusting his sweatpants properly before turning away. “Tomorrow at the same time, don’t be late. Now leave my house, it’s not the place for a desperate whore like you.”
Tag List: @blkmtllvr @curtaindiver4000 @moozinomoto
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wholoveseggs · 3 days ago
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Hey girl, while I am jet-lagged from a trip, another Elijah idea came to me. Memory-free Elijah (Season 5) meets strong and confident human readers, and they start a friendship. She helps him navigate through his new life, and he falls for her. He also kinda forgot that he is a really skilled lover, so it's kinda cute and fluff because he is nervous and sweet, but I imagine that is something he would quickly remember after a few rounds :)
Btw: love, love, love Kinktober!!!
Belonging
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} You needed a roommate, and he needed a place to belong...but as secrets unravel and his dark past comes to light, your new housemate might just change your life forever.
♡♡ ahhh @originals23 thank you for another spectacular request!! ♡♡
8.8k words {whoops} - Warnings: sssmmuuttt, roommates-to-lovers, lots of sexual tension, Elijah being charming and mysterious, a dash of angst, mild language, protective Elijah, soft and nervous Elijah, domestic fluff, dangerous encounters (brief physical assault), Paris, vampire reveals && all the feelsss
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@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv
@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming
@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse
@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2
@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury
@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28
@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy
@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson
@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp
@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven
@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97
@origshipfan @cocoabliss @elishi03
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Money was tight, as it seemed to be for everyone these days. The economy wasn't kind, and you had bills to pay. You needed a roommate, which was how you found yourself on craigslist. You were hoping for a good, sane human being, but at the end of the day, you would take what you could get.
The first person to show up for the interview was a woman and her very obnoxious boyfriend. You could instantly tell that this would not work, even if you were desperate. She wanted to smoke in the house and have friends over to play loud music and drink all night. You would rather die.
Next came a middle-aged man who immediately gave you the creeps. You had no problem living with men in general, but this guy made you uncomfortable. He stared at you too much and had a weird look in his eyes. You kicked him out quickly, feeling uneasy.
You were about to give up for the day, when a man dressed in slightly worn clothes knocked on the door. You couldn't quite get a read on him, he seemed to be full of contradictions. On the one hand, he didn't look to have a lot of money, perhaps he was even homeless. But his skin was clean, his hair neatly trimmed, and he had an air of confidence that was rare to see.
You invited him in, and he sat at the kitchen table as you asked the usual questions. None of them he could really answer in a straightforward manner.
"Where are you from?"
"I'm not really sure."
"How old are you?"
"I don't know that either."
"Where do you work?”
"I...I'm looking."
You studied him for a minute, and he gave you a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry. I know this is a bit unusual, and I wouldn't have bothered coming here if I had anywhere else to go. The truth is, I have no memories of who I am, where I'm from, or even my age."
"That's...that's a lot to take in," you replied, not sure what else to say.
He nodded solemnly, his gaze steady but filled with vulnerability. “It is. I woke up a month ago on a bus with no memory of how I got there. All I had was this,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a single, ornate cufflink with an engraved ‘E.’ “I think my name starts with an ‘E.’ Beyond that, I don’t have much to go on.
You leaned back in your chair, trying to process the situation. He could have been lying… anyone could come up with a story like that. But something about his demeanor struck you as sincere. He didn’t have the desperation of someone looking for a quick handout. He carried himself with dignity, even as he admitted he had nothing.
"Okay," you said slowly. "So, let’s say I believe you. You’ve got no memories, no job, no ID. How do you plan to contribute if I let you stay here?”
He straightened in his chair, his expression resolute. “I may not remember who I was, but I’m willing to work. I’m a fast learner, and I can help with anything you need around the house. Cleaning, repairs, anything physical...I’ll earn my keep.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You sure sound confident for someone who doesn’t even know their own name.”
A small, shy smile tugged at his lips. “I suppose some things are instinctual.”
His charm wasn’t lost on you, but you weren’t about to make a decision based on a smile. “And what if you’re dangerous? You could be an escaped convict for all I know.”
His smile faded, and his expression turned serious. “I understand your concern. I don’t believe I’m a danger to anyone, but I can’t offer you proof of that. All I can promise is that I’ll respect your home and your rules.”
You studied him for a long moment, weighing the risks. Something about him made you want to trust him, even though logic told you not to. Maybe it was the way he spoke, all articulate and thoughtful, as though he’d once been someone important. Or maybe it was the quiet sadness in his eyes, the kind that suggested he’d lost something far greater than his memory.
"Alright," you said finally. "You can stay. But there are rules. No bringing strangers into the house, no smoking, no loud music. And if you try anything shady, I’m calling the cops.”
Relief washed over his face, and he nodded earnestly. “Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.”
You showed him to the spare bedroom, which was small but comfortable, and gave him a set of clean sheets and a towel. He looked around the room as though he’d never seen anything like it, running his fingers over the furniture with quiet curiosity.
As he settled in, you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he’d led before he lost his memory. He was polite and well-spoken, yet entirely out of place in the world. And though he seemed vulnerable now, there was something about him… something strong and enduring, like a flicker of a flame waiting to reignite.
For now, you decided to take it one day at a time. After all, what’s life without a little risk?
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The following months passed by quickly. You got closer and closer to each other, spending a lot of time together.
He had gotten used to the city life, and you had gotten used to having him around. It had been nice, having someone to come home to, and to talk to.
He was a lovely person, who enjoyed listening to classical music as he cooked, and who was always willing to lend a hand. He was smart, funny, and kind, and you were starting to fall for him.
You weren't sure if he felt the same way about you, but the way he looked at you sometimes, and the way he smiled at you, gave you hope.
You were sitting in the living room, reading a book, while he cooked dinner. The smell of his cooking was making your stomach growl, and you were looking forward to eating whatever he had prepared.
"I found out something interesting today," he said, coming into the room with a bowl of salad.
"What's that?" You asked, putting your book down.
"My name," he said, a slight smirk on his face. "My full name, I mean."
"You did?!" You exclaimed, excitedly.
"Yep," he confirmed, looking pleased with himself. "It's Elijah."
"Elijah," you repeated, testing out the name. "I like it. It suits you."
He smiled, and the sight of his dimples made your heart skip a beat. He was so striking, and you wondered if there was someone out there missing him. Someone who loved him.
"It does," he agreed, his smile fading a little.
"So, how did you find out? Did it just come to you, or did you remember?" You asked.
"Actually... I uh.. ran into someone who claimed to know me. He wasn't very friendly," he explained.
"Oh no, are you okay?" You asked, concerned.
"I'm fine," he assured you. "I wasn't hurt. Just... I don't know, it was odd."
"Odd how?"
"He was angry, and he told me I wanted this, and that I should leave the city for the sake of a woman he wouldn't name," he recalled.
"That's awful," you said, feeling sorry for him.
"Yeah," he sighed.
"Do you have any idea who the woman is?" You asked.
"... I think she might be my family?" He said, looking unsure. "It's hard to explain, but when he mentioned her, it felt like something clicked, and I knew that he was telling the truth."
"Wow, that's big," you breathed.
"I know," he nodded, plating up the food. "It's strange, I don't remember anything about my life, but the mention of her... It felt right."
"Maybe it'll trigger your memories," you suggested, helping him bring the food over to the table.
"Maybe," he agreed.
The two of you sat down to eat, and the conversation shifted to more pleasant topics.
He talked about his favorite books, and his favorite places in the city, and you listened, enjoying his company.
After dinner, you cleared the table, and put the dishes in the dishwasher. And he prepared for his nightly walk, one he didn't want you joining him on.
"Can I join you tonight?" You asked, as he grabbed his jacket.
"Why?" He asked, sounding surprised.
"Because I want to spend more time with you," you explained, hoping he wouldn't think it was too weird.
"Oh," he said, a smile creeping across his face. "Truly, I would love for you to join... But tonight, I want to clear my head. I need some time alone."
"Okay," you agreed, a little disappointed.
"Tomorrow night, perhaps," he said, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.
You blushed, and watched him leave. He always had an excuse as to why he had to go out on his own, and it was starting to bother you. You couldn't help but worry that he was hiding something from you, or that maybe he didn't feel the same way about you, and this was his subtle way of letting you down.
Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was your growing feelings for him, but you decided to follow him, just this once.
You grabbed a coat and put on a pair of boots, and slipped out the front door. It was a cold, windy night, and you cursed yourself for not bringing a scarf and gloves.
You could see Elijah's silhouette ahead, and you followed him, keeping your distance. He walked with such grace and confidence, the sort of walk that screamed 'I'm rich and powerful,' although his personality hardly lined up with that attitude.
You had a feeling that whoever he was, before he lost his memories, had a lot of money. It was in the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, and the way he could make a cheap t-shirt look elegant.
He wandered into a sketchy part of town, and you wondered why he would want to come here. There were several run-down buildings, and a lot of graffiti. The only people you saw were homeless and drug addicts, and you were starting to get scared.
Finally, he stopped outside an abandoned warehouse. You watched from afar as he walked inside, and a few minutes later, came back out, wiping his mouth. You frowned, wondering what he had been doing in there.
Then, without warning, he turned around and started walking back towards the house.
"Fuck," you muttered, ducking into an alleyway.
You waited until he had passed, and then followed him, staying out of sight. He went back in a different direction, and after a few blocks, you realised he was headed for a park.
You followed him, trying to stay quiet, but your footsteps echoed loudly in the night. You felt foolish, and hoped that he hadn't heard you.
He led you deeper into the park, to an area that was mostly secluded. There was a large tree, with a bench underneath it. He sat down on the bench, and stared up at the sky, which was covered in stars.
You watched him for a moment, wondering if this was his way of relaxing, and what was going through his mind.
Suddenly, his eyes locked onto yours. You gasped and took a step back, your heart racing.
"Are you going to join me, or just keep spying on me?" He asked, his voice amused.
"I wasn't spying," you lied, sitting down next to him.
"Of course not," he replied, his tone clearly mocking you.
"Why are you here?" You asked.
"I like the fresh air, and the view is beautiful," he answered.
"What were you doing in that warehouse?"
"Just clearing my head," he said, his expression becoming serious. "You shouldn't be out here, it's dangerous."
"You are out here," you countered.
He laughed, his eyes crinkling up in the corners.
"That's true," he agreed, looking out into the darkness, his eyes scanning the shadows. His shoulders were tense, and you could tell that he was on alert, even though you were both sitting safely under the tree. "Let's walk back, shall we?"
He stood up and held out his hand. You took it and he helped you to your feet.
"I'm sorry," you apologised, feeling guilty. "I shouldn't have followed you, but I was worried about you."
"It's alright," he said, keeping a grip on your hand as you walked down the path to the park exit.
You enjoyed the feeling of his hand in yours, the warmth of his skin. You glanced at his profile, admiring his handsome features. You noticed the frown on his face, his dark eyes once again scanning the shadows.
He moved a little faster, pulling you along. He seemed anxious to get out of the park, and back to the safety of your condo.
"What's wrong?" You asked, sensing his unease.
"It's nothing," he replied, his tone serious. "But I think it's best we get home, don't you?"
Then the sound of gravel crunching beneath shoes caught your attention. You turned to see a group of men walking towards you, wearing dark clothing, their faces hidden.
Elijah stopped and stepped in front of you, shielding you from the men. They approached slowly, spreading out to surround you. You were frightened, and you held onto his arm, hoping he knew what to do.
One of the men reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. Casually holding it by his side, as if it was a normal object, instead of a deadly weapon.
"Good evening, gentlemen," Elijah said, his tone calm and confident. "How may I be of service?"
The leader of the group chuckled, and shook his head.
"Hand over your money, and no one gets hurt," the man demanded, gesturing the gun at Elijah.
"Of course," Elijah said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He handed it to the man, and the man flipped through it, counting the cash.
"A little light, don't you think?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm afraid I don't carry much cash on me," Elijah said, sounding apologetic.
The man's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, his gaze flicking between you and Elijah.
"Perhaps you should let the lady go, and we can discuss this like civilized men," Elijah suggested, his tone still polite, but his eyes had hardened.
"I don't think so," the man replied, his grip on the gun tightening.
"I uh... don't have anything," you stammered, too terrified to think straight. "I...I left my wallet at home,"
"Liar," the man spat, pointing the gun at you.
Elijah stepped in front of you, putting himself between you and the gun.
"Now, now, there's no need for that," Elijah said, holding up his hands. "We're all reasonable people, let's not resort to violence."
"Then, perhaps, we should take her fancy designer clothes instead. Maybe that'll make up for the loss," the man said, his tone threatening, pressing the barrel of the gun against Elijah's chest.
Elijah tensed, and a low growl escaped his lips. You looked at him in surprise, he didn't seem like the type of guy who would react to threats this way.
The leader's eyes widened, and a small grin appeared on his face.
"Ooh, we have a tough guy here," he said, sounding amused. "Trying to impress your date? She’ a little young for you ain't she?"
His goons laughed, and you felt your cheeks flush.
"She is none of your concern," Elijah replied, his tone sharp.
"Actually, she is. You see, I'm in charge here," the man said, he looked at you and smiled, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. "Strip. Now. Or I will shoot your sugar daddy in the fucking face,"
Your eyes widened and you shook your head.
"No, no please, we'll give you anything you want, just don't hurt us," you begged, tears welling up in your eyes.
"Clothes. NOW!" The man yelled, pointing the gun at your face.
You hesitated, and he grabbed your hair, yanking you away from Elijah.
"Take off the fucking clothes, or I will kill you both," the man snarled, his breath hot on your face, the barrel of the gun pressed against your temple.
"Alright, alright, don't hurt her," Elijah said, taking off his coat.
"Hurry up," the man snapped, releasing your hair.
You nodded and started to undress, tears streaming down your cheeks. You stripped off your coat and scarf, then pulled off your shirt and pants, shivering as the cold night air hit your bare skin.
You looked at Elijah, who was watching you, his expression unreadable. You could see the muscles in his jaw working, his hands balled into fists.
You were scared, but more than that, you were angry. You hated these men, for the way they were treating you and Elijah, and for the fear and shame they were making you feel.
"There, I'm naked," you said, trying to sound brave.
"Not quite," the man replied, stepping forward. He ran his hands over your body, his fingers rough against your skin, the gun still pressed to your temple.
You flinched, and he chuckled.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not going to rape you," he said, his hand cupping your breast. "You're not my type."
He moved his hand down, stroking your stomach, and then lower, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your panties. You shuddered, and he laughed again.
"But, maybe you'd like a little fun," he whispered, his lips close to your ear.
"That's enough, you've gotten what you wanted, now leave us alone," Elijah demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
"It seems your sugar daddy doesn't want to share," the man said, his tone mocking. "He keeps pretending like he's in charge,"
"Please, let us go," you pleaded, your voice breaking.
"No, I think I'm going to keep you," the man replied, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you against his chest.
"You won't harm her," Elijah warned, his eyes blazing.
"Or what?" The man sneered, his fingers digging into your skin.
"I'll kill you," Elijah growled, his voice deadly.
You watched in horror as the other men laughed, raising their guns at Elijah. He didn't even blink, his gaze fixed on the man holding you.
"Is that a threat?" The man asked, his grip on you tightening.
"A promise," Elijah replied, his expression was eerily calm, but his eyes were filled with anger and determination.
The man pressed the barrel of the gun against your skull, the cold metal pressing painfully into your skin. You gasped, and he laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine.
"Walk away, and I'll let her go," the man said, his gaze locked on Elijah.
Elijah looked at you, and his eyes softened.
"Do you trust me?" He asked, his voice soft, barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat.
"Yes," you answered, without hesitation.
He smiled, and turned to the man. "Then duck,"
Before the man could respond, Elijah lunged at him, his hand grabbing the wrist holding the gun. The man yelped, and you ducked down, just as Elijah's knee connected with his face. There was a sickening crack, and the man cried out, letting go of the gun.
Elijah caught it before it hit the ground, and other men began firing, hitting Elijah in the chest over and over, but he stood there unfazed, almost bored, like they were annoying pests and nothing more.
One of the men, realizing his bullets were useless, rushed forward and swung a fist, hitting Elijah in the jaw. Elijah didn't budge, grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. The man gasped, and tried to pry his hand off, but Elijah's grip was too strong.
You watched in awe as Elijah crushed the man's throat, his expression blank. Then, he threw him aside, the sound of bones snapping echoed in the air.
The other men backed away, their faces pale. Elijah ignored them, taking his leather jacket and putting it over your shoulders, before turning his attention to the leader.
The man was kneeling on the ground, clutching his broken nose. He looked up at Elijah, his eyes wide with fear.
"P-please," the man stammered, holding up his hands. "I'm s-sorry,"
Elijah stared at him, his expression cold. "No you are not,"
He crushed the gun in his hands like it was tissue paper, and grabbed the man by the throat. The man choked, his hands clawing at Elijah's arm.
"I promised you that I would kill you, and I intend to keep my word," Elijah said, his voice devoid of emotion.
You watched in horror as he tightened his grip, and the man's face turned purple. You wanted to look away, but couldn't tear your eyes from the scene.
Elijah's expression was a mixture of rage and hatred, his face was no longer human, he had completely black eyes, with veins snaking across his face, and his teeth were razor sharp, almost fang like.
He snapped the neck with a loud crack, and dropped the man to the ground. The other men backed away further, their guns forgotten, the color drained from their faces.
Elijah looked at them, and smiled, his fangs glinting in the moonlight.
"Run," he commanded, his voice dark and deadly.
The men fled, tripping over their own feet, disappearing into the shadows. Elijah turned to look at you, his eyes soft yet completely inhuman.
"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice gentle.
You nodded, unable to speak. You were terrified, but not of him.
"Close your eyes and count to thirty, I'll be right back," he said, and then turned and followed the men.
You watched him run off faster than any human could, and you closed your eyes tightly, hearing screams and cries as he caught the men. You waited, counting down from thirty, and then you heard his footsteps and opened your eyes, his face once again normal, the only hint that he had been a monster moments ago was the blood staining his shirt.
He didn't say a word, just reached out his hand and helped you to your feet. He picked up your clothes and helped you dress, your hands were shaking so badly that you could barely button up your shirt.
When you were dressed, he wrapped his arms around you, and held you close, his warmth enveloping you.
"S-shouldn't we call the cops?" You asked, still in shock.
"There will be no need," he replied, his voice calm and soothing.
You looked at the bodies of the men, and then quickly looked away. Elijah had torn them apart, their limbs twisted and contorted in impossible ways. Their faces were frozen in expressions of terror, their eyes empty and lifeless.
"You're not human are you?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.
"I'm more human than them," he replied, his grip on you tightening a little. "Let's get out of here, and I'll explain everything."
"Okay," you said, letting him guide you away from the bodies.
You felt numb, and you let him lead you out of the park, your mind struggling to process what had happened. Who was this man? This creature beyond comprehension?
Who had you let into your home?
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The sound of the kettle whistling pulled you from the daze you had been in. You were sitting on the sofa, wrapped in multiple blankets, Elijah's coat draped across your lap.
You watched him move about the kitchen, his movements confident and sure.
"Here," he said, handing you a mug of hot tea.
"Thank you," you said, taking a sip.
He sat down next to you, his body close to yours. He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, and you flinched.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised.
"But you killed them," you whispered, your eyes watering.
"I did," he confirmed, his voice calm and steady.
"How?" You asked, looking up at him.
"I have... certain abilities," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Abilities that make me stronger, faster, and more dangerous than any human."
You put your mug down on the table and turned to him, studying his face. He was watching you intently, his eyes filled with concern.
"Are you... are you an alien?" You asked, a hint of fear in your voice.
He laughed, the sound a pleasant rumble.
"No, I'm not an alien," he assured you.
"What are you then?"
"I'm...well.. I think I'm a vampire," he said, sounding uncertain.
A burst of disbelief mixed with terror erupted within you, and you let out a hysterical laugh.
"Vampire," you repeated, shaking your head. "Like Edward Cullen?"
"I don't know who that is," he said, frowning.
You let out another laugh, your mind reeling. It wasn't possible. Vampires weren't real.
"Y/N," he said, his voice serious. "I know this is a lot to take in, but please believe me. I am a vampire. I can't explain how or why, but it's true."
You let him talk as you grabbed your phone and searched up vampires. Showing it to him, and telling him to look at the search results.
"Sparkle in the sun? Not as far as I am aware," he commented, frowning.
"Holy water? Crucifixes?" You pressed.
"I'm not particularly religious," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Garlic?" You questioned.
"I love garlic," he replied, grinning.
"Can you fly?" You asked, wondering how many myths were true.
"I'm not sure," he said, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I've never tried."
He stood up and did a little hop with his arms raised in the air, like some sort of weird bird. You snorted and covered your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh.
"No flying," he concluded, sitting back down.
"So, how old are you?" You asked.
"No idea," he said, a sad look on his face.
"Oh my god, what if you are like one hundred years old?" You asked, your mind racing with possibilities.
"Perhaps," he mused.
You paused at the next item on the list of vampire traits, and hesitated before asking.
"And the other thing... blood," you read, your stomach turning at the thought.
"Yes," he admitted, a look of shame crossing his face.
"So, when you went into that warehouse…?" You began, remembering how he had returned, wiping his mouth.
"I was hungry, and I needed to eat," he said, his voice low.
"So you just went and killed someone?" You asked, unable to keep the judgement out of your voice.
"No, he was very much alive, just passed out," he explained.
"And you didn't kill him," you pressed, not entirely convinced.
"I didn't," he insisted.
"But what if you did? What if the next time you went to get some 'sustenance' you did actually kill them?" You asked, starting to panic.
"Y/N," he said softly, taking your hand. "I would never hurt you,"
You looked at his face, searching for any signs that he was lying. But his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity, and a hint of sadness. His gaze drifted to your lips, and his expression changed, becoming softer, and a little more intimate.
You quickly looked away, back to the list of vampire facts, and cleared your throat.
"Mind control," you read, and felt his gaze linger on you.
"Not to my knowledge," he replied.
"You can't enter a house without being invited," you continued, and his hand tightened around yours.
"Is that a request, or a demand?" He asked, his tone playful.
"It's a question," you countered, blushing slightly.
"Yes, but most invite me in without hesitation," he said, giving your hand a light squeeze. "You did,"
"Oh," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.
Your eyes went back to the mind control section, and a thought crossed your mind.
"Have you used mind control on me?" You asked, a sense of unease washing over you.
"I don't know," he admitted. "If I have, I'm not aware of it."
"Oh," you mumbled, not knowing what to say, but curiosity got the better of you. "Try to, make me do something,"
"Like what?"
"I don't know, something harmless," you said, thinking for a moment. "Make me sing a song,"
"Very well," he agreed, looking thoughtful.
You waited, expecting to start singing. But nothing happened.
"Do you feel any different?" He asked.
"No, nothing," you said, disappointed.
"I don't know what else to suggest," he said, a frown marring his features.
"I don't know, look me in the eye and tell me to do it? Like... Tell yourself you can do it? I don't know… maybe it's a belief thing…?" you offered.
He nodded, and then turned to look directly at you. His dark eyes were intense, and his lips curved into a smile.
"Sing me a song, sweet girl," he said, his voice echoing strangely in your mind.
You told yourself not to sing, to sit quietly and not react. You repeated it over and over, until the words were all that was in your head.
But his voice seeped into the ribbons of your brain, dancing behind your eyes. You lost your awareness of time and space, and suddenly, a melody rose up from within you.
You opened your mouth and the words came tumbling out, and you started singing an old song that had been stuck in your head for days.
Elijah sat back and looked surprised, a small smile on his lips. You stopped singing, your face flushing in embarrassment.
"Holy shit," you gasped, a strange sensation creeping through your mind, like cobwebs being blown away. "It worked,".
"You have a lovely voice," he said, his tone gentle and kind.
"How did you do that?" You asked, feeling unnerved.
"I don't know," he admitted, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "I just believed that I could, and you did as I asked,"
You suddenly stood up, tossing the blankets off of you and heading to your wine rack.
"I need a drink," you declared, and picked a random bottle.
You poured yourself a generous amount, and drank it all in one gulp. Then poured yourself another glass. You looked over at him, and noticed the way his eyes followed the glass as it reached your lips.
"Do you want some?" You asked, the wine giving you courage.
"No, thank you," he replied.
You sat back down on the sofa, and took a long sip. Thinking about all the possibilities of what his vampire status meant.
"Could you mind control my mortgage payments away?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Possibly," he said, smiling a little.
"Could you use your super speed to clean my apartment?" You teased, taking another sip.
"You're not thinking big enough," he replied, his grin growing wider. "I would love to leave this city, find a home in a new town and live a normal life."
"I'm not sure normal is something you could ever be," you quipped, raising an eyebrow.
"You might have a point," he conceded, his tone wistful.
He pointed to the artwork on your walls, you had purchased them at Ikea ages ago. They were those generic wanderlust posters of different famous travel destinations.
"Pick one," he said.
"What?"
"I'll take you there," he offered, his voice soft.
"Seriously?"
"I owe you so much, I think this is the least I can do," he replied.
You stared at him, your mind struggling to process his offer. Was he for real? Was he really willing to take you around the world?
"Paris," you blurted out, a blush rising to your cheeks. "I've always wanted to go,"
"Paris it is," he agreed, and your heart skipped a beat.
"Really?" You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your voice.
"Absolutely," he said, his tone sincere. "I would love nothing more than to take you."
"That's so sweet," you gushed, your face heating up even more.
"So, Paris?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
"Yeah," you agreed, nodding your head.
"Then we will leave first thing in the morning," he said, his expression brightening.
"But I have work... I need to take time off-" you started to say.
"Forget about all of that," he cut you off, his tone gentle. "I can mind control people, remember? I'll just take care of everything,"
You laughed, the ridiculousness of the situation finally hitting you. He was a vampire, who had mind control powers, and was offering to take you on a trip to Paris.
"This is insane," you giggled, feeling slightly hysterical.
"Indeed," he agreed, grinning.
You finished your wine and set the glass down on the coffee table. His proximity was starting to make you feel hot, and a little giddy.
"So," you began, trying to distract yourself. "I guess I'll go pack my bags,"
"I can buy you anything we need when we arrive," he suggested.
"Are we gonna fly? Like on a plane?"
"I was thinking that I could just jump really hard and we can just land in Paris," he said, a serious expression on his face.
"Oh shut up," you giggled, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.
He chuckled and shook his head.
You smiled and sat back, taking a moment to reflect on the day's events. It had been an emotional roller coaster, and your head was still reeling from the revelation that vampires were real, and sitting in your apartment. But the prospect of a trip to Paris made your heart flutter with joy.
"I can't believe I'm going to Paris," you said, letting out a happy sigh.
"We," he corrected, smiling.
"We," you echoed, a warm feeling spreading through you and a huge grin appearing on your face.
This was going to be the best vacation ever.
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France was just as magical as you imagined it would be. Elijah took you to the most luxurious hotel in the city, and ordered a feast fit for royalty. The food was incredible, the atmosphere romantic, and the company... Well the company was a bit odd.
The vampire man, who could control humans with his mind, who had saved you from being mugged, and who was now whisking you around the world, was a little hard to ignore.
What was harder to ignore was the raging jealousy you felt every time someone flirted with him. He was like a magnet for hot people of all kinds, and they would flock to him like moths to a flame.
It was ridiculous really. How they would throw themselves at him, practically begging him to fuck them, and he would politely decline. You felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing that no matter how good looking they were, no matter how talented their tongue, his attention belonged to you.
You were currently strolling along the Seine, admiring the sights, when you noticed a group of young women watching Elijah.
"They're looking at you," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.
Elijah didn't bother looking up from his guidebook, but a smirk spread across his lips.
"I'm sure they are," he replied, sounding amused.
"Why are girls so obsessed with you?" You asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.
"I have been told I'm... As the young say these days, a snack," he said, laughing at his own joke.
You couldn't help but snort and laugh along with him. He was a complete dork sometimes, and it made him all the more endearing.
He looked over at you and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had been feeding from plenty of tourists, much healthier blood than the people he found on the streets of New York. His complexion was no longer the sickly grey it had been. Now he looked healthier, his skin glowing, and his eyes shining.
"Do you think I'm a snack?" He asked, his tone playful.
"I think you're an entire six course meal," you replied, trying to sound cool.
"Is that so?" He asked, an eyebrow raising.
You flushed and looked away, trying to hide your embarrassment. Why were you acting like such a teenager?
"Yeah," you murmured, fidgeting with your jacket zipper.
"Perhaps you'd like a bite," he said, his voice low and inviting.
"Oh stop it," you groaned, pushing him playfully.
"No seriously, I've seen how you look at me. You want to sink your teeth into me," he teased, giving you a wink.
"That's you, Mr. Vampire," you retorted, sticking your tongue out at him.
He grinned and reached for your hand, taking it in his and bringing it to his lips.
Your heart rate increased, and your cheeks flushed. You could feel the heat rising to your face, and you quickly pulled away.
"You're such a flirt," you finally managed, shaking your head. "I bet if you kissed the hand of one of those girls over there, they would swoon right into the river,"
"I could," he agreed, looking at the group of young women.
The group of girls noticed him looking and they quickly began giggling and whispering amongst themselves. One of the girls waved at him and he waved back, his expression playful.
You couldn't help but smile at his antics. He seemed much happier here in Europe than he did back home, and his smile was infectious.
"See, they are already falling over themselves for you," you laughed.
One of the girls broke off from the group and walked up to Elijah. She was stunning, with long blonde hair, and big brown eyes. She said something to him in French, and he laughed and responded.
When you landed in France, Elijah could speak French perfectly. He didn't even notice he was doing it until you called him out on it. Making you both wonder just how much knowledge was locked away inside his mind.
You couldn't understand what they were saying, but the conversation seemed lighthearted. He took your hand and kissed it again, before saying something else to the girl.
She giggled and looked at you, giving you a wide smile. "Zhou are very lucky to 'ave such a fine 'usband."
You were shocked by her words, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.
"Oh, we're not married," you stammered, shaking your head.
"Oh," she said, her eyebrows raising. "'E is zee lover?"
You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you. The idea of Elijah being your lover was too ridiculous to consider. But before you could correct her again, he spoke up.
"Oui, je suis votre amant," he purred, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.
Your stomach clenched at his words, and your mind struggled to come up with a response.
"Oui, oui, très romantique," the girl giggled, giving you a knowing look. "I'll let you get back to your 'oneymoon,"
She waved at you, and you awkwardly waved back.You watched her join her friends, who all began whispering and giggling again, the blonde fanning herself dramatically and clutching her chest.
"Did you just tell her that we were lovers?" You asked, turning to look at him.
His lips twitched into a faint smile, though he avoided meeting your gaze. “I thought it might discourage her interest.”
Your irritation faltered, replaced by something warmer. “She’s beautiful, Elijah. Why wouldn’t you want her attention?”
He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the cobblestones. When he finally looked up, his dark eyes were steady but uncertain. “Because she’s not you.”
The world seemed to tilt, the bustling streets fading into silence. You stared at him, your chest tight.
“Elijah...” you began, but whatever you were about to say was lost as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative kiss.
It was soft at first, hesitant, as though he were unsure if he was doing it right. But when you responded, your hands gripping his coat, your lips parting for him, his hesitation melted away. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.
The sound of giggles broke the spell, and you pulled back, breathless and flushed. The group of girls was watching you, their laughter light and teasing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Elijah’s forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Was that... acceptable?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
You laughed softly, your hand sliding to his jaw. “More than acceptable.”
Relief flickered across his face, though his cheeks were still flushed. “I wasn’t sure if I...” He trailed off, his uncertainty palpable.
“You were perfect,” you whispered, your thumb brushing over his cheek.
His lips curved into a small smile, and for a moment, the two of you simply stood there, the city alive around you but forgotten in the haze of the moment.
"That was my first kiss," he said with a small laugh.
You smiled, your hand cupping his cheek, tracing along his jawline. Taking in his handsome face, his deep brown eyes, his soft lips. You wanted more, you wanted it all.
"I have a strong feeling you've done that plenty of times before, you just don't remember," you teased, your gaze darting to his lips.
He let out a nervous chuckle, his fingers gently caressing your sides.
"Perhaps," he conceded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
You stood on your tiptoes, and leaned in close, your lips inches away from his.
"Maybe I should refresh your memory," you said, your voice soft and flirty, "Back at our hotel,"
"Yes," he agreed, his smile growing wider. "And after, perhaps we could discuss this 'lover' business further,"
You snorted and playfully hit him on the shoulder, and his deep, sexy laugh echoed through the streets of Paris.
"Shut up, you are so cheesy," you giggled, your cheeks hurting from how wide your grin was.
He took your hand and kissed the top, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Let's go," he said, his voice warm and full of promise.
The two of you rushed down the street, and headed back to the hotel. The possibilities running through your head, making your heart pound with excitement.
Paris was already the most romantic place on earth, but now, with Elijah by your side, it was about to become unforgettable.
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It had been quite a while since you last had sex, and you were feeling more than a little pent up. It also didn't help that Elijah was stupidly hot and a complete gentleman.
You had fantasized about him multiple times since the moment you met, and now the opportunity to make those dreams a reality was right in front of you.
You wondered what having sex with a vampire would be like, would he use his fangs? Would he be gentle or rough? You shivered, the thought exciting you more than it should.
The two of you rode the elevator up to your room in silence, both of you trying not to rush, but the tension was thick. He was holding your hand, and when the doors opened, you both hurried down the hall.
You let out a squeal as he scooped you up before you reached the door, carrying you the rest of the way. He used his supernatural speed, and before you could register what was happening, he was already kicking the door open and stepping inside.
You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and the excitement coursing through your veins. He gently placed you on the bed, and you let out a soft gasp as he crawled over you.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and soft.
You could feel the blush spreading across your face, and the heat pooling in your core. He kissed your neck, and you let out a soft moan.
"I confess I haven't done this before," he murmured against your skin, his hands caressing your sides.
"I really doubt that," you said with a laugh, your voice breathless. "Have you seen yourself? Whoever you were before you lost your memories... He was a ladies man, I can guarantee it,"
He laughed and shook his head, slowly unbuttoning your dress.
"I suppose I'll just have to rely on my instincts," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face.
And those instincts... were impeccable.
His hands were warm and gentle on your bare skin, his lips soft and teasing. He took his time taking off your dress, savoring the moment, until you were finally lying beneath him, completely naked.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising in your face. His eyes were dark and hungry, and you were desperately trying to keep your cool. But it was nearly impossible, especially with his perfect body looming over you.
You leaned up and kissed him, a deep, passionate kiss that left you breathless. Your hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from his pants. He chuckled, helping you remove his clothing. Your fingers traced along his firm chest, and down his arms, enjoying the feel of his skin.
You could tell he was a little nervous, his movements slow and tentative. He avoided your gaze, but kept glancing at you. A slight blush crept up his cheeks, and he let out a soft sigh.
"I do not wish to disappoint you," he confessed. "I fear I may fail at this task,"
You cupped his cheek, and gave him a soft smile.
"It's okay," you reassured him, your tone gentle. "We'll figure it out together,"
He nodded, and let out a shaky breath. You kissed him, trying to help him relax, and he returned the gesture with a little more confidence.
You gently guided his hands to where you wanted them, showing him what made you feel good. His fingers gently brushed over your slit, and a soft moan escaped you. He looked a little surprised, but his lips curved into a faint smile.
He began to explore, his thumb circling your clit. His movements were slow and deliberate, and you found yourself arching into his touch.
"Like this?" He asked, his voice soft and teasing.
"Mhm," you murmured, a blissful smile on your lips.
He kissed your neck, and you could feel his fangs brushing against your skin. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through you, and a soft moan slipped out.
His fingers eased inside you, curling just right, and you couldn't help but gasp. He let out a soft laugh, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you.
"I take it that's the right spot?" He teased, his voice low and seductive.
"Mhm," you moaned, nodding your head.
"What a pretty little sound," he praised, his lips brushing against your ear.
Your hands clutched at his shoulders, and he continued his gentle assault on your senses. His fingers worked you slowly, and his lips on yours felt divine.
The heat was rising, and you could feel the pressure building inside you. His thumb teased your clit, and his fingers stroked you just right. Your hips rocked against his hand, and he let out a soft hum of approval.
"Elijah," you moaned, your voice low and breathless.
"Yes, sweetheart?" He murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.
"I'm so close," you panted, your nails digging into his skin.
"Go on," he urged, his fingers increasing their pace.
Your breath caught in your throat, your legs trembling. The heat was almost unbearable, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. You closed your eyes, lost in the sensation, and then it was crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.
You opened your eyes, and he was watching you with a bit of wonder in his gaze. You flushed, your heart still pounding in your chest. You could feel the heat in his eyes, and you knew he was enjoying this as much as you were.
When the aftershocks finally faded, he gently withdrew his fingers, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, and a sense of need overtook you.
You splayed your hands on his chest and pushed him onto his back, straddling him, and giving him a good view of your body.
He looked up at you with wide eyes, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed. He was gorgeous, and you felt a surge of pride knowing that he was yours.
Your hands were moving steadily downward, and when they reached his belt, you slowly started unbuckling it.
His breathing was getting heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you touched him through his boxers. He let out a low groan, his hands reaching for your hips, pulling you closer.
You could feel the heat radiating from him, his arousal pressing against your core. His eyes were hooded, and his breathing was ragged. You slowly pulled his boxers down, his thick cock springing free.
"My my," you said with a smirk, taking his length in your hands and stroking him gently. "Is this all for me?"
He groaned, his hips rocking forward, eager for more contact.
"All yours," he panted, his voice low and husky.
You could see the desire in his eyes, the need burning within him. And as his fingers dug into your hips, guiding you into position, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan.
Slowly, you lowered yourself onto his length, hissing as he stretched and filled you.
"Oh," you moaned, your head tilting back as he bottomed out.
He was big, and it had been awhile, you reached out for him, and he sat up and took your hands, kissing each one.
"Are you alright?" He asked, his tone soft and concerned.
"Yes," you breathed, your eyes meeting his. "You feel really good,"
His lips curved into a satisfied smile, and his fingers caressed the small of your back, gently encouraging you to move.
You began rocking your hips, slowly at first, and then building up to a steady pace. You were panting, the friction delicious, and he was gripping your hips tightly, his own movements matching yours.
The room was filled with the sounds of your pleasure, the bed creaking beneath you, the headboard tapping against the wall. The scent of sex and desire permeating the air.
You could feel the flush spreading across your cheeks, and the heat building inside you. He was hitting all the right spots, and the look on his face was making you even more turned on.
He was watching you with such intensity, his gaze focused on your expression. Every time you moaned, or shuddered in pleasure, his lips would curve into a satisfied smirk, and his grip would tighten on your hips.
You were close, the pressure coiling within you, and you could tell he was close too. His movements were becoming more frantic, and his breathing was coming in short gasps.
You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He responded eagerly, pushing you backwards, and pinning you beneath him. He gripped your hips tightly, his thrusts becoming harder, faster.
You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders. You were so close, teetering on the edge, and then you felt his fangs brush against your neck, and that was all it took.
The pressure released, waves of pleasure washing over you, and you cried out, your legs shaking. He groaned, his movements becoming erratic, and then he was spilling himself inside you, his cock throbbing and twitching.
He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot on your neck, and his skin slick with sweat. Your fingers gently traced along his spine, and he let out a satisfied hum.
He rolled off of you, and laid down beside you, his hand reaching for yours. You laid on your side, and intertwined your fingers with his, a content smile on your lips.
"That was amazing," you breathed, letting out a soft laugh.
He chuckled, his eyes fluttering shut.
"I agree," he murmured, his tone soft and sleepy.
You gently kissed his forehead, and then his cheek, and his lips. He smiled, his eyes closed, his expression peaceful.
You had never seen him like this before, and it made your heart swell. You couldn't help but lean forward and place a kiss on his chest, right above his heart.
You scooted closer, resting your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.
"I love you," you whispered, your fingers gently tracing along his collarbone.
He stirred slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile.
"I love you too," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
You smiled, snuggling against him, and letting the warmth of his body lull you to sleep.
It had been a long, strange journey, and there were still so many questions left unanswered, but in that moment, none of that mattered.
All that mattered was the man next to you, and the promise of what the future held.
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postcardsfromheapside · 2 days ago
Text
I need to be salty for a hot second about people who are upset about aspects of Lucanis' romance.
I'll put everything else under the break for spoilers, but in general, I am so disappointed in a large portion of this fanbase who apparently thought "disaster" meant "romantasy," but also it's in keeping with how a lot of people seem unable to put things in context.
One of the complaints I keep seeing run past is that the scene where you commit to a relationship with Lucanis seems pefunctory, or out of the blue, there's nothing really romantic about it, it's too similar to the platonic route, etc, etc, ETC.
I romanced Emmrich, but I've seen other people's versions of romancing Lucanis. I'm just going to kind of word vomit here, and hope I can come up with something cohesive.
As someone who id's with Lucanis for "generational abuse" and "dumpster fire disaster bi" and "using socially acceptable drugs as coping mechanisms in place of addressing your problems" reasons, it's been really fucking annoying watching the almost deliberate misinterpretation of his character even after Mary Kirby dropped several explanations on social media. It's like a large part of the fanbase saw all that and turned into the "yes yes, very sad...anyway!" meme and went right on fetishizing him...then got mad when he didn't turn into the seductive Dom with wings they were hoping for.
You commit to Lucanis after (what I consider) a very intense scene inside his "mind prison." He's struggling so much internally that Spite wrests control of his body from him in front of witnesses and begs Rook to help them. Lucanis would never ask Rook to do so on his own, he's terrible at asking for the help he truly needs. Spite drags Rook into the Fade Ossuary and demands they free Lucanis from his self-imposed prison. And whether you're a friend or would-be lover, Rook slowly talks Lucanis out of a host of self doubts regarding his family and friends. Can he trust himself not to hurt other people, now that he's saddled with this affliction? Has he disappointed the people he cares about most? Do these new people he's coming to care about actually trust and care about him? The rooms are filled with fragmented thoughts that peter out into regrets. You're literally seeing Lucanis' fractured and complicated emotions.
One of them tore a hole straight through me: "You'd have to kill me...And Spite would die."
You'd have to kill him to get rid of the demon. And he'd regret the death of the demon that's protected him and given him strength, through a brutal year of betrayal and torment. I don't know if y'all remember the scenes in the Ossuary of the failed experiments and the corpses you had to pass to get to his jar of blood. It wasn't fun.
When you break out of the mind prison after helping him bond with Spite, it's intimate and momentous, even on a platonic route. You've seen desperate and lonely parts of him he'd never willingly show anyone.
As you're convincing Lucanis that it's okay to leave his mind-prison, you tell him you understand that it's easier to deal with problems like the Ossuary and Zara than healing and living with Spite, potentially hurting people he cares about. But he wants to. It's Rook's job to help him see a path out, a way for him to make the struggle easier so he can begin to heal himself.
I need to stress: you aren't "fixing" him. You're acting as his lighthouse, regardless of whether you're a friend or a lover. Sometimes people need help. He's still going to have to do the work to get there.
As a friend, it was extremely rewarding to come back to the kitchen and see him doing exactly as I'd hoped: moving on with the business of *living*. He made a nice dinner for everyone he's come to care for, and a special dessert for Neve. Cooking is where Lucanis finds creativity, and comfort, and connection with his friends and family. He isn't very good with words, but he will note everything you consume, and try to make you feel loved by expressing it that way.
Which is why I think it's important you don't dismiss the commitment on the romantic route. He remembers YOUR favorite drink and makes YOU a special dessert if you're romancing him. Lucanis isn't going to get poetic. You've already made him feel raw. You've seen the ugly, embarassing parts of him. What is he supposed to say? Usually it takes Spite reaching through his body to actually be direct. Instead, Lucanis reaches for food, his favorite medium, to try and apologize for inadvertently showing you those things, to thank you for helping him despite seeing what he considers the most shameful parts of him. Your commitment is letting him know that you value him, that he has nothing to be ashamed of, that you understand what he's trying to express with his struggling communication skills, which appear to get better as your relationship progresses from there.
It's weird that some of y'all don't feel that this is heartfelt and important, because you'd rather him act out some sensuous fantasy trope. It's also weird that some of you haven't figured out that many scenes in RPG's can be similar on platonic and romantic routes with tweaks to shade context.
(Also just in case this comes up: cooking is not his "love language" - that whole concept was invented by a misogynistic weirdo and we should remove it from our ideas of communication)
Anyway, this guy is my Rook's bestie and I'll go down swinging for him, you should appreciate the fuck out of him and stop acting like his writer didn't craft a perfectly funny little weirdo who is bad at showing people his tender parts and terrible at interpersonal relationships.
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cookingwithroxy · 1 day ago
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So we're going to add 'hypocrisy' 'consistency' and 'critical-thinking skills' to the terms you blatantly don't understand the meaning of?
I mean, I do get it. You're an abuser, outright and without question. Your entire motivation is to take away other people's choices because they don't think like you do. It's why openly and intentionally misunderstand the meanings of terms so that you can claim they mean things other than what they've described to you, and actively attempt to position yourself as the voice of all women...
In the face of all the women telling you that you don't just fail to speak for them, but you also fail to even speak even what one would consider a 'significant minority' of women.
Also you act as if you speak for the LGBT community as a whole, when from all I can tell you're... not even part of the community. Which makes you constantly trying to talk over all us fucking saphics really fucking insulting.
Also you're like, inches from being a TERF despite anything you seem to claim.
You have notable psychological issues, and rather than consider 'hey. my personal issues have given me an unhealthy perspective on things, I do not have the framework to understand what others get from these things', you externalize your issues and try and project your unhealthy behaviors onto others.
But when it comes down to it, what you really push is your need to have control. Control over other people's lives, their freedoms and their choices. Your actions and words are just your defense mechanisms to constantly attempt to justify those actions. It's DARVO, where you attempt to make everyone else the villain rather than reflect on the fact that you never had the right to start accusing people of hideous behaviors in the first place. It's not that YOU are the evil controlling bastard, it's that everyone else wants to do bad things that you have to stop! By punishing them for thoughtcrimes.
Also, as an aside? I've looked over some of the other people pointing out what shit you've been spouting? And you REALLY do need to learn what the terms 'endorphin crash' and 'mood crash' mean. Granted you also need to learn what a lot of other things mean to begin with, but the basic understanding of how one responds to coming down from a stimulation high is really important in general and probably would also benefit you... considering that you're riding that kind of emotional swing right now, in a very blatant sense.
You know, getting a little rush from snapping back at people telling you that you're wrong, feeling smugly superior as you... don't read a single thing people tell you because that might force you to think things you don't want to?
It would explain other things related to the metatopic of all this as well, but honest to fuck it'd help you to recognize your own blatantly maladaptive behavior.
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milkbean69 · 3 days ago
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My thoughts on the Yandere Arcane Au
Tw: sorry y'all not good at writing yandere, yandere content
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Okay before we get started we need to talk about what this universe of the undersity looks like pre- time skip. Honestly I think that this univers had a lot more progression in term of revolution and a lot less shimmer. Also considering the fact that Vander and Silco were able make up after Vi's death makes me think there was a lot less bloodshed between the two over the years. I mean of course silco when and found the note vander left but the fact that the crew is all laughing and partying together means there has to be new layers of loyalty amongst the crew caused by Vi's death.
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Yandere's Vander and Silco:
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OH GOD!!!! These two I swear, I honestly feel like in terms of protectiveness Vander would actually be worse. I mean he watched Vi die in the attack so you have that. He would not want to lose another.
If Vander was a platonic yandere, yeah no, your never leaving the Last Drop without him ever again. The trama he has from Vi is crazy. But if it was a romantic situation, he would be a little more lenient.
Now for platonic yandere Silco. I feel like a lot of protectiveness would come from a place of guilt and attonment. I mean his actions killed Vi during the pre-timeskip in this universe and he is probably still feel's guilty for that despite the fact that he has been forgiven.
So I feel like bring a young obsession or kid into the mix, would make him feel like he needs to make amends for what he did. Not only to prove to himself but for the others aswell that no other will die under his care.
Now them as a pair, would go crazy platonic or not. We need to remember something the two are brothers and the the pillars of the undercity. So the levels of communication and partnership are already there. There abilities to unite people would probably be where a lot of the Yanderness of the crew starts to fester. Always having someone with you, eyes and ears all over Zaun, and generally not being fucked with or else you'll have two of the powerhouse's of Zaun on you doorstep.
If this was romantic, they would share, God damn it. I don't know what it is but they would share, I just know it. You would be the king/queen of the Zaun in Silco's eyes, Vander hates it because he feels like if bring to much attention to you. Your always with on or the other. Silco defininatly spoils you, I mean you know he would.
Here me out, I feel like they both also have some fears from what happened to Felicia, so that definitly are supper on edge all the time because of that. One of both of them had to have liked her romantically, I was felling the vibes during the flashback.
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Okay but I feel like they would be worse than the adults, in terms of platonic yandere's. Like we saw Vi's death really fucked them up. You would 100% be the Vi replacement. Expecally if you were older than them.
With Powder , it would be the worst. She wouldn't be violent, but more manipulative in certain ways., 100% a guilt tripper. Then would rope the other into it as well. Saying things to you about how you remind them so much of Vi, and there protection is just so you don't end up like her, so you should never leave them.
You probably wouldn't go on jobs, mostly saying in the last drop with Vander and Benzo. Maybe they let you go into Piltover, but you are always with someone. But never in the more dangerous parts of Zaun that have yet to be changed, and you still got to worry about the grey. the wouldn't want ther baby breathing in all that polluted air.
With a younger obsession, your never leaving there sights again. Even if you were a year younger than them, your getting little siblinged so hard. They have so much more experience now and realize all of the thing they did as kids was dumb and dangerous. They probably teach you how to fight just in case they are not there. But that is unlikely considering how mother hen they all are. If you ever when parkouring like they used to in piltover you would get an earful.
Powder and Ekko would make you little trinkets and gadgets. They'd make things to lure you in and bribe you. Or to love bomb you when you complain they are being to overprotective.
They would be so affectionate. Powder and Claggor the most, we all saw that scene with Claggor and Milo during the dance. Honestly I feel like Milo would be affectionate in the annoying older brother way, like ruffeling you hair and picking you. Ekko would be affectionate when you inationating it.
In tems of duos we would have Claggor with Milo and Powder with Ekko. Milo is the one to tease you alot, but he means well. He probably thinks he's the funnies guy on the planet, when in reality it's probably Claggor. Milo seems like the more aggressive on in terms of yandere's. He is the jokester character but see seems more scared that something might happen to you. That make him more aggressive and paranoid. While Claggor is more level headed and perceptive, but don't be mistaken, he has build and is the stronger of the two
Between Powder and Ekko, Powder is the one you need to worry about. She lost her older sister, Powder was the youngest of the group, so in her mind she is kind of filling Vi's role as older siblng, and must protect you like Vi did her. Should someone try to hurt there darling, Powder is the impulsive one but Ekko is the deadlier one between the two. Ekko is calm and more laid back, but he seems like he has the patience to go in for the kill on the first strike. Silent but deadly.
Now with romance, there all into you, sorry not sorry. I actually don't think they would have the company to share a darling. Powder and Ekko, maybe? But Claggor and Milo, definitly not. Milo would be that last to realize that everyone is pinning after the same darling, there all pretty perceptive so it wouldn't take them long to figure it out amongst eachother.
You would never have any partners, they would scare them all away. Powder would be the dustrusstful one spreading seed of dought anytime someone would flirt with you, saying there not good enought for you. Ekko and Claggor would be the intimidating ones, Ekko has the deadly glare while Claggor has the build to scare off any potital suitors. Milo is one of two, he is the one who likes to claim you already taken, usually with him saying he's you boyfriend, or the physical aggression type. He will get kind of pissy wanting your attention kind of annoying the person flirting with you. Then maybe ruffing the person's up after they leave your earshot so you don't see.
They would all try to one up each other in there own ways Claggor is the more laid-back type and lenient of yandere, so he would milk you needing to escape from the other craziness. Powder is clingy type and needs to be near you always. Ekko seems like the silent type, always lurking in the shadows, the man always has his eyes on you and knows where you are. Milo seems like the possessive and aggressive. Not aggressive in the, I'm going to hurt you type of way but someone else for looking at you the wrong type of way.
No matter who you end up with its going to be messy, I'm sure of it.
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