#(help which rio tag is better)

[nitas-art]

"Forgive me, the dark calls to me"

[natashasvixen]

Bunny love

Summary: As much as she may try to hide it from her Rio knows that Agatha gets lonely when she has to “work” and while away she finds what she hopes may be the perfect companion for her wife.

Tags: Pure fluff, married Agathario, soft Rio, soft Agatha, baby Señor Scratchy, pet names (mi amor, angel) , pre Agatha all along?

💢Spoilers if you don’t know Rio’s identity yet💢

Author’s note: Hi hello, I genuinely don’t remember the last time I wrote anything but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head and I just love them so much, we aren’t going to talk about how much research I did into rabbit breeds being introduced to which countries and in which years, it’s embarrassing…. Enjoy!

Scotland 1953

It was late into the night, maybe even early morning judging by the pitch blackness outside the windows as Agatha sat next to the fireplace she’d been tending with a blanket thrown over her lap and one of her many spell books balanced neatly on the arm of the couch. The Scottish winters were harsh but the little cottage nestled away in the highlands that her and Rio shared fared well and it was more than worth it for the beauty of the landscape that surrounded their home. Here she and her wife almost felt closer to their witch roots than even that of being back in Salem and Agatha certainly didn’t miss the reminders of her Mother and Coven everywhere she looked, here in the forest surrounded by only nature she knew they were safe to live their life together, not having to hide their magic or their love for one another.

With a slight sigh Agatha pulled herself out of her little daydream and focused her eyes back on the pages of the book in front of her, her head was starting to hurt from the jumble of Latin and other languages, Agatha reached forward for the piece of paper she was jotting down notes on, grabbed her pen and wrote down a few more things that could be of help for the spell she was trying to create, Rio said she was mad trying to make a child of magic that would be both of theirs equally but Agatha would go to the ends of the earth to make it true, she wanted nothing more than a family with the love of her life and deep down she knew Rio wanted it too, she didn’t care if it was against the laws of magic to do so and for hours upon end every day she would read every spell book and grimoire cover to cover trying to find all the answers and incantations she may need to finally make her and Rio’s dream a reality.

The Netherlands (somewhere)

To be perfectly honest Rio wasn’t sure where she was, the Netherlands that’s for sure but she’s not sure which city she is on the outskirts of, you’d think after hundreds of years of transporting souls of the dead to their final resting place all over the world she would be better at her geographical knowledge but it wasn’t really important when you always had the same destination to reach in the end. It had been a tiring trip, yes she was death personified but that didn’t mean what she had to do got any easier over the years, this time it had been a young family and while at least they could stay together it still drained her to think of the life they could have had. Gently she lowered herself to sit on a frosted log and took a moment to collect herself before heading home to her beloved. As Rio rested her head in her hands she heard a faint rustling in front of her, she narrowed her eyes and looked forward, faintly bringing her green magic to the surface, even now the memories of the witch trials hung over her head and she was always ready to protect herself if need be.

Much to Rio’s amusement a small rabbit emerged from the undergrowth, “wow lady death being spooked by a bunny rabbit that’s a new low” she mused to herself as she watched the rabbit tentatively move closer to her. “Well you certainly aren’t meant to be out here, you’re definitely not a wild rabbit” Rio spoke to the small creature slowly lowering her hand out for the bunny to sniff, the little thing was as far from a wild rabbit as you could get, bright white with speckles of light orange and black spots and the floppiest ears you’ve ever seen also far too tiny to be out wandering alone.

Being a green witch and yet also lady death was a confusing combination for nature to comprehend sometimes, Rio was drawn to nature and it often returned the same feeling towards her, that included the living beings that inhabited its world and this baby rabbit seemed no different, hopping over after a quick sniff of her hand and settling down under Rio’s cloak to shield itself from the cold breeze that washed over the countryside, she chuckled at its actions and flicked her wrist, her green magic making some dandelions sprout from the icy ground which the rabbit happily munched on.

As the witch watched the small rabbit eat she pondered to herself, “can’t exactly leave you out here can I? And Agatha has been going on about getting a familiar” the tiny ball of fluff stood up on its back legs resting its front feet on the side of Rio’s leg barely reaching above her boot and looking at her intently. Rio smiled to herself and scooped the rabbit into her arms who settled down instantly into the warmth, “she’s going to say I’ve gone soft” she scoffed to herself as she prepared to transport herself and her new little companion home.

Agatha’s research for the night was becoming increasingly exhausting and she knew she should have been in bed hours ago, this was made abundantly clear when she felt the familiar pull of her wife’s magic that was so intertwined with her own she knew when she was close, meaning she was in fact home from helping another soul pass on through the veil.

Rio always transported herself home outside of their cottage when she was late not wanting to wake her wife from her slumber however as soon as she found herself on the snow dusted doorstep of their home she could feel Agatha’s magic humming with life and clearly not sleeping, gently tucking the little bundle of fluff she was carrying further into her cloak both to keep him warm and hidden so she could surprise her lover she gently eased the wooden door open and slipped inside quickly to not let the heat of the fire out.

Slipping off her boots and easing down the hood of her green cloak she moved her way into the living area where she saw her wife smiling tiredly at her from her comfy position on the couch, “mi amor what are you still doing awake” Rio asked quietly as she raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Just doing some more research” Agatha sighed, motioning to the still open spell book, “I didn’t realise the time, how was your trip angel?” She questioned softly. Rio scoffed as she always did at the pet name Agatha had bestowed upon her all those years ago when they met for the first time, quite fitting being called an angel when she was literally death itself. “Tiring” she mumbled leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her wife’s head, as she did Agatha noticed movement beneath Rio’s cloak and a quick hiss came from her wife’s mouth, Agatha noted that she still had one arm tucked away behind the fabric. She tilted her head quizzically at the green witch, “what are you hiding from me?” She questioned reaching to grab at her cloak, “ah ah ah” Rio tutted, pulling away, “it’s a surprise” she said, holding up her other hand to wave a finger at her wife mockingly.

“Oh come on Ri you know I hate surprises” Agatha said getting up on her knees to try get a better look over the back of the couch at what her wife was concealing underneath her cloak. Rio rounded the couch and Agatha turned to follow her movements now sitting crossed legged as Rio stood in front of her with both her arms now tucked back inside her cloak, “you’re going to make fun of me” the green witch said as she became uncharacteristically shy and turned her body slightly away.

“Well that depends what it is but I promise I’ll try not to tease” Agatha said with a smirk reaching her hand out to beckon Rio closer to her.

Now Rio stood right in front of Agatha and the purple witch gently took hold of the arm that her wife had been hiding and noticed that there were scratch marks, “you think I’m going to make fun of you for getting scratched?” Agatha questioned looking confused “why haven’t you healed it these are hardly anything” right as she finished her sentence from Rio’s other arm and behind the fabric of her cloak hopped the tiny bunny landing straight in Agatha’s lap. “Well now you’ve ruined the surprise” Rio glared at the bunny making Agatha burst out laughing.

Rio pouted and crossed her arms over her chest “told you you’d make fun of me” she whined. Agatha’s laughter died down wiping a tear from her eye as she looked up at her wife who looked like an annoyed child, “I’m not making fun of you love he just took me by surprise” she giggled as she pulled her wife to sit next to her and started to pet the bunny who sat happily in her lap like nothing had happened, “and what pray tell made you take me home a sweet baby bunny?” She asked leaning over to press a kiss to Rio’s cheek.

Rio sighed leaning into her wife’s side, “well you haven’t let up about wanting a familiar recently and besides he found me not the other way around” she smiled reaching over to boop the bunny’s nose.

Agatha looked down lovingly at the bunny as she continued to pet him, “I was thinking more black cat or raven you know but hmmm I think I can train him up to be a scary bunny” Agatha cooed as she snuggled the bunny under her chin, not long after he kicked off his back feet jumping onto Agatha’s lap before further hopping down to the floor and flopping himself in front of the fireplace leaving Agatha with matching scratches on her arms, “te veo señor” Rio laughed and her and Agatha fell into each other giggling at the rabbits antics, “scratchy little thing” Agatha said examining her and her wife’s arms before looking back at the rabbit clearly making himself at home, “that’s what I’ll call you” she said placing a kiss to that back of Rio’s hand, “Señor Scratchy” she said looking into her wife’s eyes “thank you my angel” she said softly before leaning in and connecting their lips in a soft kiss, when they parted Rio started placing kisses on Agatha’s arm, “now let me fix the little devil’s marks” she smirked at her wife before starting to gently lick at the superficial wounds, “I missed you amor” she sighed against her skin, “I missed you too angel” Agatha said gently kissing her wife’s head.

Their perfect little family was almost complete.

[kairiscorner]

hello!! how are you?.

i have an idea actually and yours ask was closed so i had to wait and when you opened it i was like:yehey!

can you do where reader can speak a LOT of languages... Spanish, French,etc.. and everytime when MILES invites reader to the house,, reader and tia Rio would speak Spanish and MILES would be like:🧍🏾‍♂️

i really love your one shots btwww they're so-💥💥💥🤯

hiii !! i'm doing well, hoping you are, too (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) AND THANK UUU <33 also man, that's a fun idea >:DD thanks to @jrrantss for the help in translating some parts :DDD !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miles x multilingual reader

summary: miles introduces you to his parents, and despite your growing anxiousness at leaving a good impression on them, you blow his mom away with how well you spoke spanish--a little better than her own son, she'd say. word count: 471

"mom, dad, this is my partner." miles said as he looked at his parents and back at you with a smile. you smiled at his parents, and his dad seemed pretty okay with you--he nodded with a grin as he asked you for your name, which you gave them, of course. his mom smiled slightly at you, but looked at miles with a questioning gaze. after a while, miles was pulled to the kitchen by his parents as they asked him questions about your relationship together.

miles came back to you as he emerged from the kitchen and gave you a crooked grin as he threw himself on the couch next to you. "they really don't trust that i love you and am ready to be in a relationship with you. see, this is why i introduced you to uncle aaron first." he said as he peered over at you as you looked at him with concern in your eyes. "don't worry, though. they like you, i'm sure they do." he said as he inched his hand closer to yours, and soon, placed it over your own hand, causing you to release a small chuckle of surprise and look flushed in the face.

before miles could lean in and peck a small kiss on your cheek, his mom called out for him to set the table in spanish. "miles! pon la mesa, quieres, por favor?" "ah, uh, en un minuto, mom!" "qué quieres decir con 'en un minuto'? te pedí que pusieras la mesa ahora, tú pusiste la mesa ahora!" you giggled as miles was losing against his mom in this back and forth argument on setting the table. miles finally gave in and agreed to set the table right away, with you tagging along to help him so he'd finish faster. as you both got in the kitchen, his mom's attitude did a full 180 as he watched you enter. she smiled widely and asked you to sit back as miles, being the good, obedient son he was, would set the table all by himself.

"ay, muchas gracias señora morales! pero, vine con el para areglar la mesa mas rapido, esta bien con usted." you told his mom in a clear voice, without stuttering one bit. his mom stared at you and then shot miles a look. "...wow, they're better than you at this." his mom told miles with a wide grin, which left miles feeling a little embarrassed, but pretty glad that you won her approval. you didn't disagree with his mom, you believed it was better to leave it at that. miles sighed as he looked over at you and mouthed, "it's like you're her favorite now." he said with a slight chuckle as his mom reminded him to set the table now like he said he would.

a/n: if i get a partner who speaks tagalog better than me in front of my own parents....... i'm fucked !!!!!!!

tags !! @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @solecitoszn

[agentem]

Agatha and mentorship, Rio, and the funko reveal

More spoiler cutting. I have decided that a "funko pop spoilers" tag is necessary since the spoilers are for more than just the latest episode.

Spoiler cut!

Since now we know Teen is Billy for sure (which is what I suspected and most everyone suspected), I think I am very excited to see Agatha be his mentor. Agatha was a fun mentor to Wanda in the comics and I love Agatha on the show but she's not the old lady witch of the comics. Age is just a number and all that, but having her being the bad guy was a bit of a bummer.

I don't mind her doing bad stuff, but I wanted her to teach Wanda more than just those ruins that are only there to have Wanda use against her later.

And in the first Young Avengers book, Billy has to figure out how to do magic and shit on his own. He initially thinks he's Asgardian, but now TV Billy won't have to do that! And Agatha could help him find his Mom like in Children's Crusade.

I do think the Billy reveal will be sad for Agatha, because part of her hopes he is Nicholas. Since she thinks she's the star (presentation!) it's going to be rough for her to find out it's all about Wanda again.

But I am also worried about Teen and Rio. I did not guess that she was literally Death until the Funko Pop reveal. Billy has cheated death on some level. He was supposed to die in WandaVision and all the talk of a car accident before the events of episode 1* (see ETA4) makes me think that might have been some kind of inciting incident for Billy to go look for Agatha. Like a near death experience. (Also something happened when he was 13. Allie Ahn mentioned a bat mitzvah moment during the press tour and I got excited that Billy might actually be Jewish. But I hope I didn't mishear.)

Joe Locke did mention on the press tour that he had to shave a scar into his eyebrow, so that is there intentionally for some reason. Something cut him recently.

Anyway, I think Agatha will have to chose between Rio and Teen in some way. I know the shippers are shipping but I want to protect Billy at all costs.

ETA: Also, "do you remember why you hate me?" BECAUSE YOU ARE DEATH AND YOU TOOK MY BOY (possibly literally?).

ETA2: But I bet Rio relates to Agatha being hated by her mom and such. Agatha was just doing what she does. Death is just doing its job when people die. They are not necessarily evil.

Like Agatha even says to Jen that she left Jen alone because she respected Jen on some level. She took power from people she didn't "deserve it" per WandaVision. Others see her as a "witch killer" but I think she thinks they are better off without them.

Some bitches should die. (I bet Rio agrees.)

ETA3: Okay, so in the credits there is a newspaper mention of a near death three years previous, which would've been during WandaVision. This plays under Joe Locke's name. So there was an accident three years ago, and Agnes--during her true crime era--mentions another car accident in episode one. I got a little confused.

[fuesch]

Agatha All Along 1x06

Oh, look who's confirmed to be Jewish. Now everybody who's been prematurely ranting can chill. Yay!

It's a magick mitzvah even. Is that an actual thing or are they witchy Jews.

A golden lion embroidered on that dark fabric - I'd love to be normal, but how can I when it reminds me of the silver tigers on the jacket we first saw Peter in?!

WTF, Billy's dad looks like a bearded version of Director Hayward to me. Those eyes are way too similar.

Billy's met Lilia before?! Okay, so he's not Billy M. yet and the way Lilia is talking makes it seem there'll be no merging of the Billys, the original B. Kaplan will actually die. How depressing.

I can't believe the sigil came from Lilia! And why?!

Whoa, the Hex exists already. The original Billy K. only just got that prediction from Lilia and has so little time left. There wasn't much "now" to enjoy anymore. D:

Whoa, Wanda had even broadcast on radio! AFAIR I never thought about that other people might pick up that signal! There must be some out there still watching with antenna or dish, who have actually seen Wanda's show.

Oh, his parents actually call him William. Well, that's a nice way to differentiate the characters without involving last names.

Alice!

If nothing is physically wrong with Billy, does that mean he has healing powers?

Poor freshly reincarnated Billy having a really bad and confusing time. And his new parents as well. :o(

Billy and Eddie making out - I'm slightly scared of going into that AAA tag now, there'll be so many disappointed Agatha/Rio shippers who thought it would be their ship doing the smooching.

"Nothing in my life has felt normal until I met you." Awwwww.

Woah, I'm starting to think there was actually something to those theories about ep 5 being Billy's trial. In his room are the Eastview pennant and the chain of tetraeder-covered lights we saw in the trial house.

A "trans lives matter" poster in Billy's room. Of course he's a good boy.

Ooh, Billy did some research. "Strange occurences persist to haunt Westview residents" Interesting, tell me more!

Avengers training exercise gone wrong. Uh huh.

I didn't watch the mid-season trailer, but saw a cap on Twitter. The quality wasn't great (which kept me from brightening it in Photoshop, as there was nothing more to see), but I did see some hair sticking out from under the hat. Hey, you know who has somewhat long hair? And that outfit is so unlike Peter, that it's gotta be his disguise. Today I saw a post on my Twitter timeline linking to an article about Mr. Bucket Hat's identity and couldn't resist. I held the mouse over the link to read the URL and had my confirmation. So I changed my plans and instead of doing preparations for stuff, I watched the episode.

Was super excited when I saw that the episode link on D+ is a cap of Billy & boyf in an underground garage. Which, you know, is the place where one would meet someone who's hiding their identity. And despite seeing this announced in that cap, I can't believe it's Billy meeting Peter. I mean, they're multiverse family, they've met before, yet neither knows this, ARGH!

What was Mr. Bucket Hat throwing and then putting in his pocket? My first thought is something with a sigil on it, but then he wouldn't remember Westview.

Bohnerrific69. Sorry, I LOLed way too loudly. But should you use that name when you're hiding from the authorities and maybe others?!

IS THAT WHAT THE BEARD WAS FOR?!?!

"Randall" isn't any better, Randy! Somebody give this man some help coming up with aliases!

"Bub"? Hmmmmm… boy, do I wonder where Horny Stiffy picked up that word. What a mystery, we shall never know.

OMFG, Peter, what did they do to you?! The Hex was such a bad time for him that he's still having a bad time 3 years later. My poor baby. I wonder if all the protection stuff he has all over actually does something. But if not, at least it should ease his mind somewhat.

I wonder if there's anything interesting on his shirt. Anyone know what it says?

Agatha stole your house? Baby, that belonged to WitSec. Maybe he really does have a sigil, but it only works on his actual identity, not the Hex one. I mean, it looks like he's been to a witch, so maybe while there he asked to forget who he is so he wouldn't miss his old life in his own universe. Does he even know he's run away from witness protection? If not, that would explain the unwise choice of screenname.

"I was a terrible influence on Wanda and Vision's kids." No, no, you were the best uncle! That's really not something to feel guilty about.

Agatha had Peter poison Sparky! FFS, Agatha! "Woof" - "Hey!" I second Peter's comment.

Hearing Peter say speedster gave me heart tickles.

He has a one-man show! So 1. He really seems to think the identity Monica uncovered is his real one, 2. He's not hiding, WTF?! No way WitSec didn't find him. Maybe they leave him alone because he's living under an alias and his show isn't popular enough to attract attention?

Poor Billy thinking Wanda and Vision are dead. But as long as he can't remember them, it shouldn't be that bad.

Oh, so Agatha caused disasters in the non-magical world too. And she's Jolene?!

"Fun facts: Murdered her entire coven." Fun indeed!

Billy really is on the Road for Tommy! Oh, right, as a survivor of the Witches' Road, Agatha would be very useful. I had forgotten about that.

Wait, has Agatha always been wearing that Bohner family reunion shirt ("pitch a tent" XD) when she was at home with Rio?! Dammit, I feel a mighty need for that shirt now. They better give us that merch. Never mind, thanks, @xmcu-fietro!

Okay, but that shirt means that the name wasn't a creation of the Hex, holy shit! Are you telling me WitSec seriously gave him that name? Peter must have managed to piss them off beforehand.

Joe Locke was so close to losing it in that "poking the bear" scene. But since he kept it together, they could use that take. Good for us, hee.

The actors seemed to have fun. I guess that excessive pen clicking was also improvised.

"I do not wanna go back in the closet." XD

So the sigil was still working when Billy suspected his real identity, as well as when he said it the first time to Agatha. So what would finally break it?

Agatha manages to free herself from the mud. And what about Lilia and Jen?

Billy with the hoodie of shame. He's really is so much like his mom.

"It's nice to see you again, Billy." The soft way she says it sounds like she means it. Did she always like the Minimoffs or did she just decide to adopt him because she had suspected him to be Nicky?

Huh, the sigil is broken, but I don't understand how. Sure, Billy just crushed it the thing it was on, but that won't have done it. Ugh, I have no patience, dig up Lilia and make her answer my question!

Just after the topic of body count, Agatha asks where Billy got his new body. Whoa, what if he thinks he killed William? I mean, maybe she does, but I hope he doesn't.

"all that power you can't control without throwing a temper tantrum." Your multiverse grandpa would be so proud!

"She chose a town full of strangers over her own flesh and wires." I mean, she kinda had to take down the Hex, there wasn't much choice, Agatha. Not to mention that witch that nagged her into it.

Tommy is out there, Billy can sense him! *mewl*

"Gosh, you really are a Maximoff. Otherwise none of this would be nearly as dramatic." XD But this is why we love them!

The pathetic way I was waiting for Evan Peters (huh, look at #6 being the Peter episode again) to show up in the credits in hopes of getting hints about the character from the background image. It's just the Westview map with the Hex.

[toxicanonymity]

Hi sweetie. I'm not sure if you are aware of the situation Brazil is in right now, but one of our states, Rio Grande do Sul, suffered a major disaster and is completely under water. Many people, children and animals died or lost everything they had. Our entire country is mobilizing to help in every way, donating money, clothes, food, mattresses, anything that can help.One way to help is to spread the word so that more people can know what is happening. That's why I decided to send this to some people I follow who have some influence and who can help by spreading the word.If anyone is interested in donating some money (any amount will help), I'll leave a link here, which you can find on Gisele Bündchen's Instagram profile too, which you can donate in dollars.

If anyone wants to know more about what is happening, they can search on TikTok about the tragedy in Rio Grande do Sul, there are also Brazilian influencers who live in the USA who talk about it, Bruna Conce is one of them.

Sorry for my TERRIBLE English, and I hope you were able to understand what I meant.Thank you.

The link:

https://brazilfoundation.org/doe-agora-fundos/?donate=43675&fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAabkn9-1w6euwthL0h2saxTNKn9jZ2K4kIVX5FVvgIzioikDvYaOG6Glrqk_aem_AULk3TrlJw2Xy0232GIaPJTShgYcme2SZ8xmVvgBGTRGEDtnpIbiV57vlezh1pQWxF-34BAVXDRL0zlzsixBZYmW

Thank you for sharing this. I'm not educated on the situation but will learn more as you suggested. I also made a donation to the org you linked, Brazil Foundation, which has a 100% and 4-star rating on charity navigator. Your English is perfect btw. Lmk if there is a better tag for this.

[chirp-a-chirp]

Devour and Delight: Roy’s Wedding and Wedding Night

Fandom: Court of Darkness (Roy X MC, MC named Carla)

Rating: First third PG/Sugary sweet; last 2/3 R/Sweetly Spicy (Minors/folks under 18 do not interact please!). The spicier section is in dialogue format.

Description: Roy and MC get hitched—and clearly enjoy their first honeymoon night. Part One to this story here: LINK HERE

Word Count: ~2700

Tags: Wedding; wedding night; fluff; sweet and spicy; soft smut

…

A private ceremony takes place in a garden near the Invidian royal chapel. A little girl clutching a basket marches down the aisle, the frills of her dress bouncing energetically. Roy smiles indulgently as the girl curtsies to him at the altar.

“You performed admirably, Nica.” He adds. “Your excitement mirrors mine.”

“Yay!” Nica runs to her older brother, Rio, who serves as Roy’s best man. She had practiced her flower girl routine diligently for a week. No one had the heart to tell Nica that, in her excitement, she forgot to drop any of the petals.

“Sorry about that mate,” Rio says quietly to Roy after ushering Nica to her seat.

“There is nothing to apologize for, my friend.” Roy eyes Nica’s overflowing flower basket, grinning. “I have a better use for the petals this evening.”

“What use could that be—“ Rio stops himself. Roy’s gaze is transfixed upon seeing Carla.

King Klaus walks Carla down the aisle. “I thought I’d only get this honor with Sherry,” Klaus murmurs, his voice choking. Carla can’t help but be moved that the King is reacting like a proud parent this day, his emotions clearly etched on his face.

The audience witnessing this wedding is small—some palace staff, Rio, Lynt and their immediate families, Sherry, Grayson, and Roy’s parents. The Invidian people and other foreign princes will be present for the public ceremony—and all the royal trappings along with it—in a week’s time. But this day is for Roy and Carla.

Carla can hardly contain her emotions as she grasps Roy’s hand.

“No escaping now,” Carla whispers jokingly, her eyes drinking the sight of him in his suit.

“Escape was never an option for us, Heartspell.”

King Klaus makes a gracious escape and sits next to his wife and daughter Sherry. He’s all but sure from Roy’s lovestruck stare that his son did not remotely register his presence.

“Roy’s brimming with passion. It just took the right woman to unlock it.” Roy’s mother notes fondly to King Klaus.

“If he can keep it unlocked until the ceremony ends!” Sherry giggles.

The officiant intones some very poignant and meaningful words—of which Roy would confess later to not recalling much of at all. He does recall every word of his and Carla’s personal wedding vows. When that time arrives, Carla turns and places a gold ring with an etched rose motif on his finger.

“The world is comprised of darkness and light. For years, I struggled in the dark, seeking a life worth living. But then, you arrived. Thank you for being my light—my source of inspiration and joy. I vow to spend every day giving you the same love and happiness you’ve gifted me. To ease the burdens you carry. To lift your spirits in times of sorrow and doubt.”

A beautiful smile forms on Roy’s face from Carla’s words. He places a diamond ring on her finger before clasping her hands.

“The world may be comprised of light and dark, but you brought color into my life. I love you with all that I am. My soul has transformed from knowing you—your goodness, your kindness, your perseverance. I vow to cherish you for eternity, to be the one you can turn to when you require. To comfort, soothe, and protect in times of need.”

The officiant asks if there are any objections. Carla withholds a giggle when Roy scans the crowd and briefly narrows his eyes as if anyone would object. Her thumb caresses his wrist to soothe his nerves.

The officiant pronounces them man and wife. Carla represses the urge to leap in Roy’s arms due to the audience. Roy senses her hesitation and pulls Carla to him in a tender embrace. As their lips touch, Carla whispers on his lips.

“I love you…husband.”

Time stops briefly. Affections overflow as they gaze into each other’s eyes.

“And I love you...wife.”

There’s a joyous celebration at the Castle. The festivities blur in a series of dances, feasting, and good natured ribbing of Roy and Carla being unable to keep their eyes off each other. The moment King Klaus and Queen Charlotte leave, Roy makes his excuses, picks Carla up in his arms, and dashes away.

Carla: Roy! So impatient! Her voice echoes the hallway. What will people say?

Roy: Patience would be rather unusual at present. It is not as if tonight’s plans are a secret. Roy smirks while carrying Carla towards their chambers. Upon feeling her cheeks blaze, his voice lowers. I have the most beautiful wife in my arms. All I desire is to spend time with her.

Carla: Define spend time. Carla nuzzles her nose against his neck as Roy opens their chamber door. I have some ideas…

Roy: Roy chuckles at her coyness. His eyes close briefly at feeling of Carla’s breath against his neck. He steps inside their chambers and locks the door.

Well then, please enlighten me.

Roy puts Carla on the ground. His thumb traces her jawline before lifting her chin towards his gaze. His eyes reflect adoration, love, and rising heat. Carla’s thoughts scatter at his look.

Carla: Roy…She is overwhelmed. A part of her wonders if she closes her eyes if she’ll find this day, nay their entire relationship, nothing more than a dream. She grasps Roy’s free hand. It’s real, solid, radiating warmth. His fingers curl against hers on instinct.

Allow me to burn this beautiful image of you in my mind. Please.

Roy: His eyes widen with surprise—he has been called fair of face by many, but none have mattered before meeting Carla. His expression softens.

Take your time. The corner of his mouth quirks. Please inform me if I pass your inspection.

Carla: She walks a full circle around Roy, eyes roaming up and down from the tips of his shoes to the top of his head. Roy breathes heavier at her examination.

It’s not everyday a girl marries the most handsome prince in Saligia—inside and out. Her voice trails as her arms wrap around Roy’s back.

Roy: He embraces Carla softly, resting his head on top of hers. You understand you've completely melted me, yes?

Carla: You’re standing upright, so not ALL of you has melted. She kicks off her heels and nuzzles against his chest.

Roy: He is determined to make this a night she’ll never forget. One of joy, of gallantry—

Carla: How about we unwrap our…wedding presents? Her fingers untuck shirttails from Roy’s pants so she can caress his sides.

Roy: …gallantry be damned.

Carla: Her hands wander to Roy’s shoulders as she removes his jacket. Carla hums in approval as Roy’s hands travel up her back and slowly undo her dress.

I REALLY despise buttons. Her hands shake as the top three buttons of Roy’s shirt are undone. There is an innate satisfaction in unveiling one another’s skin with their own hands versus using magic—even if their wedding attire consists of the tiniest most cumbersome buttons in existence. Her lips lap Roy’s chest as more skin is exposed. Carla’s wedding dress falls to the ground in a pool of fabric.

Roy: You are exquisite. Beyond exquisite. Heartspell. I love you.

There are more eloquent ways to express these overflowing emotions. But, those are the words that matter.

Carla: Though they’ve come together many times before, this feels different. Her skin is covered in goosebumps as Roy’s fingers trace her curves. His touch is revenant yet burning. When Carla finally gets Roy’s shirt off, she gasps as she’s lifted in his arms. Her legs wrap around his waist, their kisses quickly becoming ravenous. Roy walks to the bed and lowers Carla down, his lips never leaving hers.

Carla’s hands drift to Roy’s waist to take off what remains of his attire. Despite their passionate sounds, Carla can’t help laughing as Roy kicks his shoes off with serious impatience.

And YOU may hate shoes as much as I hate buttons! Even as she laughs, her lips seek Roy’s body vigorously.

Roy: He half laughs, half growls in impatience. His hands finally remove the few articles of clothing clinging to their bodies.

Believe me, you’re well worth the effort of unraveling, dear wife. Roy groans as their lips devour each other, caressing said and unsaid desires.

Carla: Her fingers dig into his rose gold locks. Oh God Roy…

Roy: He moans at her touch, her body, her heart—it is pure heaven. His hands travel up her thighs, tracing every inch, seeking her heat.

Carla: This…this is a problem. She murmurs softly against his lips and neck. I want this moment to continue, but your fingers…oh, just like THAT.

Carla’s fingers dig into his shoulders as Roy’s fingers concentrate on her most sensitive spot, lightly at first and then encircling intently.

Roy: He laughs softly as she murmurs against him. Roy’s touches become all-consuming, her reactions driving him wild.

Just like this…yes? Roy feigns his questioning tone. He knows Carla loves it.

Carla: Her legs quiver from the sensations of Roy’s fingers in her. Carla feels rather than sees Roy smirk as his head is buried against her neck.

Roy, I…her eyes close as she becomes undone by his touch.

Roy: You already need me this much? He grins at her body’s quivering, the lurid wet sound of his fingers loving her. While he wants to savor his Carla, the wanton desire on her lips fuels a need to make her delirious with pleasure. Roy continues to twirl and pump his fingers the way she enjoys it until he brings Carla to her peak.

Carla: Her body convulses against Roy, her mind going blank. Carla clinches his shoulders and cries his name, lips pressed against the top of his head. Her body sinks in the bedsheets in the aftermath.

Roy…though her limbs still shake, Carla pulls Roy closer to her. She should not be the only one delighted this night. Plus, Carla wants to replace the slightly smug look on Roy’s face with another expression. She whispers in his ear.

Your turn. Her hands slide towards Roy’s waist, tracing light circles on his hips and upper thighs.

Roy: He groans softly in anticipation, his mind clouding as Carla pulls him closer. Roy’s breath is shallow and short, Carla’s fingers sending his body into overdrive.

Carla: I’m not the only one in need it seems. Carla purrs against his skin. One arm encircles Roy’s waist while the other tantalizes his length. Her lips press a wet trail across his upper chest and neck.

Just like this…yes? Carla mimics Roy’s previous teasing tone. Her face is flushed, but seeing Roy slowly come apart is an absolute treat. Her tongue swirls on his chest as her hand moves faster on him.

Roy: He groans as Carla’s tongue and fingers perform wonders. Carla’s name falls from his lips, as if it’s the only thing he can utter. Roy is certain his heart will explode from Carla’s ministrations. His hands clinch the bedsheets, his vocalizations intensifying.

Carla: And now to test how soundproof our chambers are.

She nips his neck, stroking him faster still until he comes undone. Carla takes her other hand and glides her fingertips across his whitening knuckles until they relax into her touch. Light kisses now cover bite marks in soothing pecks as Roy recovers.

Roy: Her actions send him to a point where he doesn’t care if the whole Castle hears him. His voice cries out and his body shakes and slumps. A towel is magically summoned to their bed.

It appears we both need this, Heartspell. Roy chuckles ruefully, wiping their bodies as he catches his breath. Carla rests her head on his chest. A smile spreads across her face when Roy drops a kiss on her forehead.

Carla: It appears so.

Carla breathes in a mingled scent of sweat and roses—Roy always smells sweet Carla thinks. She drapes an arm across his torso and lets a comfortable silence remain between them before speaking.

I said you were handsome in your suit Roy. But I prefer what you wear now. Carla can’t see Roy’s face from her position, but she can easily imagine his cheeks turning pink.

Roy: Is that so? Even when I am all...sweaty like this?

Carla: Yes. It’s you in your most natural state—no political trappings, no formal words, no masks. Just you and your heart exposed. Her speech is a bit sentimental so she tacks on an addendum. And no one else gets to see your pretty body and reactions but me. I rather like that.

Roy: He responds back in a teasing tone. You just had the best view then, did you not?

Carla: Carla buries her head against Roy’s chest and laughs heartily. Cheeky man.

Roy: I can never resist teasing my gorgeous wife.

Carla: You couldn’t resist teasing when I was your consort or fiancé, you know.

Roy: Well, you make it so easy. How am I supposed to ignore teasing someone as beautiful as you?

Carla: Carla sits up, looking down at Roy in mock indignation. Oh, so it’s MY fault?

Roy: Of course it is. Who else's could it be?

Carla: Perhaps, JUST PERHAPS, the rascal prince I’ve married!

She throws a pillow in Roy’s direction, but then notices rose petals on it. She scans her surroundings and sees the bed and most of the carpet sprinkled with rose petals, the room cast in a golden light from numerous candles.

Roy… Carla gestures to candles and roses. You sweet man…. Her cheeks turn pink.

Roy: His eyes catch Carla’s glances at the room. It’s a cute reaction he’s compelled to play with. Roy sits up, grabs another pillow, and tosses it towards Carla. Oh, did you just notice the candles and flowers?

Carla: YES! She deflects the pillow.

Roy: You can thank Nica for supplying the petals. A much better use of them I dare say. Roy smirks and tucks a strand of hair behind Carla’s ear. Too bad you didn’t see them until now. Were you distracted?

Carla: I was as distracted as YOU were! Or were our moans not indicative of this?

Roy: You do inspire quite the response from me. His fingers caress the back of Carla’s neck. And here I thought I was a good, quiet boy.

Carla: HA! She launches herself so Roy’s on his back and she’s lying on top of him. You’re good in another context though…

Roy: And what context is that?

Carla: The “your wife wants to pounce you” context. Carla straddles Roy’s hips enticingly and presses her lips to his.

Roy: Her playful desire envelopes Roy. Their kisses grow intense, thorough, and ravenous. They crave without hesitation or restraint. Roy twines his fingers in Carla’s hair and uses momentum to flip their positions. His hips move against hers, entering her in one smooth powerful stroke. They gasp at the instant fireworks unleashed.

Carla: She is mesmerized—his lips, his touch, the way he yearns for more intimacy, the blaze of Roy’s golden eyes as they give into the moment of being husband and wife in every sense of the word.

Roy…Carla hopes he can feel the passion she has for him. More.

Roy: Roy calls out to her, eyes aflame, skin on fire. He presses further into her, their rhythm increasing rapidly.

Feel me. With all that I am.

Lips devour, seeking her everything—her cries, her sighs, the words she tries to express. Roy tries slowing their pace to prolong the moment, but it’s no use. Carla matches his pace, digging her fingers against his back as the pounding pressure crescendos. Roy encircles one arm under Carla’s waist and tips her slightly upwards, pressing further until they hurdle over the edge together, their voices crying out.

Carla: She feels Roy collapse on her shoulder. They roll onto their sides, clinging to one another. Carla maneuvers her position slightly. She closes her eyes and slowly massages Roy’s scalp, his head resting between her breasts.

Ahhh, so this is what happens when we pounce each other.

Roy: Yes, and your claws are truly sharp.

Carla: What would people say if they knew WHY their prince was so tired now? Her words are soft.

Roy: He murmurs. They would understand it was due to our constant pouncing. Very constant.

Carla: Carla yawns, her fingers slowing to a stop.

Roy: Roy moves back upwards, gathering Carla in his arms. Rest up Heartspell. There’s still the rest of the honeymoon to enjoy. He runs his fingers through her hair, savoring her presence, until they both succumb to slumber.

[merryfortune]

Hands Perfect for Holding Flowers

Written for Femslash February 2024

Day 5. Hands for Holding

Title: Hands Perfect for Holding Flowers

Ship: Egretshipping | Aika/Kotori

Word Count: 2,012

Universe: ZeXal - canon compliant

Rating: T

Tags: Post-Canon, Affection, Flirting, Pre-Relationship, Developing Relationship, Crushes, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Ambiguous/Open Ending

   “Oh my goodness,” Aika gasped, “your hair. It is so beautiful. It's perfect.”

   She stopped mid-stride just to tap Kotori’s shoulder. They were going in opposite directions. They typically did. Different years, different classes, different extracurricular activities. If it weren’t for the incident involving Rio and the Barians, their paths were likely always going to be parallel. They hadn’t spoken directly since. 

   Truly, their only connection being they just so happened to belong to the same middle school.

   Kotori blushed as she jumped out of her skin. Aika’s hand was soft and her voice was even softer. Her compliment was genuine as Aika reached out and toyed with it.

   “It would be even more beautiful if…” Aika said and Kotori was helpless to stop her as her hand moved. She undid the ribbon that tied up the side bun. Her hair unravelled in a swift motion, like the undoing a theatrical curtain. “It were down.” Aika giggled to herself, satisfied at her rearranging of Kotori’s appearance.

   An act which, from anyone else, likely would have been seen as rude. Kotori knew that Aika was something of an eccentric so she had more leeway than most for acts like these. Her earnestness and her eye for beauty helping, too. She was renowned throughout the school especially for the latter.

   “Thank you, Hanazoe.” Kotori replied.

   “Please, Aika, I insist.” she said.

   “Oh, um, okay.” Kotori replied.

   She had no idea that they were on such friendly terms. Aika certainly thought so. She smiled. Her lips always seemed so stern and critical, especially when her eyes slitted so Kotori felt her hackles rise involuntarily. There was something about Aika which caused the hairs on her arms to stand at end. That maybe the cruelty she exhibited under the possession of the Barians had not been implanted there, that it had merely exposed the thorn underneath her deceptive rose. Though, Kotori didn’t like to think the worst of people.

   Aika returned her hands to herself, “Thank you,” she said, “and since we’re talking…”

   “Yes?” Kotori blinked owlishly.

   “May I have a moment of your time? I would like to borrow you for a project, if possible.” Aika said.

   Kotori’s heart fluttered, “I, um, sure, what is it first?” Her helpful nature spoke for her first before waiting for the rest of her brain.

   “I would like you to do some modelling for me. I was actually on my way to discuss borrowing someone from the photography club but… I believe seeing you this afternoon was quite serendipitous because your hair…” Aika’s voice trailed off as she tilted her head to the right so she may better admire the gloss and shine of Kotori’s hair as it caught sunbeams through the window they were beside. “It's perfect to complement my arrangement.”

   Oh, Kotori thought to herself, that didn’t sound hard at all. Or that risky. In fact, she felt quite flattered as her heart began to thump in her chest. She didn’t consider herself all that pretty and Aika was only choosing her because she cared about her flowers more but still. This sounded like quite the opportunity to indulge.

   “It would be my pleasure, Aika.” Kotori replied.

   “Appreciated.” Aika said. “When can you come in?”

   Kotori hummed thoughtfully for a minute as she went through her schedule in her head and tada, what do you know? It was not that jam-packed. She shrugged apologetically.

   “Tomorrow maybe?” she replied. “I’m helping out at the study and homework centre this afternoon and was on my way there now but tomorrow I’m free.”

   “Aah, my lucky day.” Aika squealed as she clasped her hands together. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

   “Yup, see you tomorrow.” Kotori replied.

   “And don’t worry, I’ll have everything you need so you just come in as your lovely little self.” Aika said.

   “Got it.” Kotori nodded. “See you then.”

   Aika took a step back and bowed politely to Kotori. Gratitude all but radiated off her. Kotori did the same, though not quite to the same extent, then excused herself but she had to admit.

   She was kind of excited for tomorrow now. It really did sound fun! More fun than algebra at the very least. So, Kotori headed off and, pleased that she didn’t have to go all the way to the photography club, Aika decided to return to the flower arrangement club. 

   That afternoon, Kotori did her best to help out in the study and homework centre. Though, was a little air-headed, preoccupied with thoughts on how she was going to shampoo and condition her hair later. Yuma, the study buddy who needed her assistance, complained that she was the one who didn’t have her head in the game for once.

   She just couldn’t help herself but it was worth it the next day when Aika saw Kotori at the flower arrangement clubroom. 

   Aika’s demure smile when Kotori showed up on her doorstep, the way her eyes lit up, Kotori noticed every aspect of her demeanour as she warmly let her inside. She was clearly pleased with Kotori - and her selection of her for the sake of her flowers.

   “Thank you so much for coming, Kotori, I really appreciate it.” Aika said.

   “It’s my pleasure, really.” Kotori insisted.

   “You’ll be eating your words once you see what a tyrant I am.” Aika joked.

   Kotori shivered. Her skin prickled as Aika laughed.

   “Now, if you would be so kind. I did my best to prepare a kimono for you ahead of time. I had to estimate your sizes but hopefully, it suffices.” Aika said.

   She gestured the kimono that she was talking about and Kotori gasped. It was gorgeous. It was mature and elegant, it matched her hair and had the slightest pink dotting to indicate cherry blossoms, or so she would guess.

   “I couldn’t.” Kotori said. “It looks expensive and-”

   “You can and you will.” Aika doubled down. “Do you need any help to get into it?”

   “Probably, I haven’t worn a kimono without my mother and grandmother helping, like, ever.” Kotori said.

   “I see.” Aika said and she chuckled pityingly. 

   Kotori blushed and held her breath. She handed herself over to Aika since she clearly knew what she was doing. Kotori did the broad strokes of it, of course, and in privacy behind a silk screen but Aika did the fiddly bits. She adjusted the brocade and of course the sash.

   “Tell me if its too tight.” Aika whispered behind her.

   “O-Of course.” Kotori said.

   Her heart was practically hammering out of her chest as Aika did up the obi. Her movements were measured and precise, just to make it fit like it was meant to have always belonged to Kotori. Kotori felt absolutely lavished and pampered by all the attention as Aika knotted firmly but not so firmly Kotori couldn’t breathe. Though she was struggling with her breath for other reasons…

   “You look good in it.” Aika said. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

   “Well, um, you make it very easy. I swear, it's a very different story when my Mum and Nan do it.” Kotori replied.

   “I don’t doubt it.” Aika said. “Now, come this way. Please follow me.”

   “Anything you say.” Kotori chirped.

   Here it was.

   The hard part.

   She was all dolled up and now she actually had to participate in Aika’s project.

   Kotori clopped along in the geta she had been provided. She felt unbalanced in them and envied how easily Aika walked on her own. She was taken to the inner stage of the tea ceremony room and Aika positioned her next to the shelving. All of it appropriately selected for the occasion of having her picture taken - and showing off the splendid arrangement that Aika had done ahead of time.

   When Kotori saw it, she gasped. There was something striking about the ceramic vase and the summer clippings. She didn’t know a darn thing about flower arrangement but even she was struck by the poignancy of it. It felt like a testament to the summer solstice and the festivals that celebrated it.

   “Like it?” Aika asked humbly.

   “I love it.” Kotori said. “And you think I can help with, um, uh… what is your project?”

   “I’m glad you asked. The class rep became aware of a photography challenge I might be interested in and so, I am doing my best to put my best foot forward so I can attain the glory of being in a monthly gardening magazine.” Aika said.

   “Wow, that’s so cool. I hope you get in.” Kotori gasped.

   “Thank you, Kotori.” Aika said. “Now, if you don’t mind…”

   Aika began to micromanage every aspect of Kotori and her pose. She undid her hair, she arranged Kotori’s hair by strands, all but individually deciding where they should go. She pushed her shoulders back, shuffled her left and then right and then left again. Kotori felt as though she were going to trip on her own toes as Aika paid dividends on her previous threat: she really was a tyrant when it came to the artist.

   A full fifteen minutes later though, with every nice and neat and most important of all perfect, it was worth it.

   Now, Kotori could hold the pis-de-resistance of the photograph: another clipping.

   “It’s not just your hair, dear,” Aika murmured, “but your hands too. They are perfect for holding.”

   Kotori swallowed.

   She felt her cheeks burn and she tried to suppress it. She didn’t want to make Aika wait any longer than she had to so she could get this shot of her that she had worked so hard to make.

   Aika drew forth another, dried soba flower for Kotori to hold. She gently inserted it between Kotori’s fingers and placed her hands along it as though she were holding a koto rather than a long sprig of the white, summer flower.

   “You are beautiful, my dear.” Aika murmured to her, petal soft.

   “Thank you, Aika…” Kotori simpered, appreciative.

   “Alright, I’m ready to take your photo now.” Aika said.

   Kotori didn’t move a muscle but did hum in acknowledgement. Aika stepped back and she looked so out of place holding a handheld camera in her older garb. She watched as dust mites floated in the sepia sunbeams that came through the window in sharp shafts. They illuminated Kotori, dyeing her in the shades of an umber summer.

   Satisfied with her model, the lighting and the pose, Aika wielded her camera delicately and then… click! Click, click, click. She wasn’t so self-absorbed to assume she would get the ideal shot straight away but one of them would be the one, she just knew it.

   “Thank you, Kotori, at ease.”

   Kotori let go of her breath shakily and felt relief immediately. She let go of her pose, too.

   Aika stepped forward again and she reached out. She caressed Kotori’s cheek and her eyes flicked up. The contact that their eyes made, it was warm and balmy. Aika wiped a bead of sweat away on Kotori’s cheekbone then her hand snaked down.

   Kotori felt her breath get stolen away as briefly, naively, she thought that Aika was going to take her sprig of soba flower off her but no.

   Her fingers closed around Kotori’s wrist and Aika bowed her head. Her forehead brushed against Kotori’s hand as Aika breathed on her: a singular exhale which scattered over the skin of Kotori’s inner wrist. Kotori swallowed as she felt herself aroused - and all too aware of just how close Aika was to kissing her veins.

   “Yes, perfect hands for holding flowers.” she flirted.

   She had to be flirting. Kotori couldn’t think of any other explanation as she got flustered.

   “A-Aika…” she exclaimed.

   “Yes, Kotori…?” Aika answered and she looked up.

   Her tone of voice and her serious eyes, she was all too aware - and gaming - the fact that Kotori had a crush on her. Though, to be fair, Kotori was all too aware of her crush too, for all the few seconds it had existed as they shared this slow and unconventional skinship.

[questionsatemybrain]

Day before yesterday, at about 8 a.m., my existence got unexpectedly much better when my 2011 Kia Rio decided to start and then run like a normal car after 4 months of being totally inoperable. Excited for the possible employment opportunities the city has to offer, I drove an hour away from the rural-ish town I live in to my friend's place in Dallas so that this morning I could wake up refreshed and begin applying for careers in my profession/retail/warehouses...anywhere that will hire me so I can start earning money again. Well, this morning I got antsy and decided to go grab myself a Gatorade from the gas station. Apparently, that was asking too much bc my car died in the middle of the road. It was dark still and there were barely any other drivers out. I put the Rio in Neutral, got out, and started pushing my car into the nearest parking lot. I was using all the strength and force I posses and still it barely crept forward. I was wearing my houseshoes bc I (foolishly, and I'll explain shortly) didn't anticipate any of this. I was slipping and sliding bc the soles had no traction at all. Three separate vehicles slowed down to watch me struggle; two of those passing cars had drivers who catcalled/laughed/said inappropriate stuff about my appearance...all before ultimately just driving away to enjoy their normal day, I guess. Finally, one man stopped to help me push. We finally got it in a parking space in a legit parking lot and attempted jumping the battery a few times before I said I wanted to just wait for daylight. This gentleman offered me a ride home, so I gathered my belongings and reached to grab my keys out 9f the ignition. Lo and behold! Not only will the engine not turn over; the fucking ignition wont release my keys.

I lost it. My heart was beating so fast I started to feel lightheaded and was bracing myself for the full panic attack experience. This gentleman is just watching me fall apart and I'm so embarrassed, but I can't stop bc if I don't let myself cry and release all of this, I'll pass out.

I'm so tired. I'm tired and I'm DONE.

I'm F*CKED. Once again. I don't know how I'm going to fix this or even get back to my house as a first step (which is an hour away).

I'm so done. Everytime I get back up and gather the strength to take steps forward, the pointless absurdism of my life kicks me straight in the teeth, and I'm knocked back further than I was before.

Like, how DARE I expect anything but setbacks and let-down's. This is what I get for having the hubris to feel hope and joy.

My entire life has been like this. I don't know what it's like to just fully enjoy something bc experience has taughte that my lot in life will be to live in the thin space between anxiety and loathing forever waiting for The Other Shoe to Drop. I ought to have known better than to allow myself to feel hope for the future when the Kia initially cranked up.

I don't have any money.

I don't have support resources.

I don't have a ride home.

I have nothing but my absurd fucking existence that annoyingly just keeps going.

I'm done trying. What's the point? This country is a fucking impossible dystopia for anyone that's not grotesquely wealthy.

I GENUINELY, DESPERATELY NEED SOMEONE TO CARE ENOUGH TO HELP AND I JUST.....DO NOT HAVE THAT.

I don't anticipate this will reach anyone, but ffs I hope if it does, one person might come thru and help me.

I don't know how to describe how I feel except beaten-down and hopeless. Oh, and hungry (bc poverty), and I'm in a not-insignificant amount of pain from slipping, sliding, and falling earlier trying to push a whole vehicle on my own with all 135 lbs of me.

If anyone found themselves willing and able to help me, I would be surprised as hell and very likely burst into tears of gratitude.

My CashApp tag is : $Pfitz1984!

An uber ride from Dallas, TX to Greenville, TX is about $55 or so

I'm poor, I have no family willing to step in and offer any type of support beyond basically telling me to grab onto the bootstraps I don't have. My friends are struggling just as much as I am, so I won't even tell them about this (much less ask for help)

[procrastinatorproject]

I was gonna put this in tags, but what the hell XD

YOU ARE WAY TOO CRUEL, PANCAKES!!! I CANNOT POSSIBLY CHOOSE!!! THEY ALL DESERVE IT SO MUCH!!!

But let's think this through.

Ian would let one of the others go instead of him, unless his expertise was needed desperately for purchasing spare parts or something similar. But then again, he trusts Rios with that and he loves Sirena and doesn't mind spending his time with her.

Steward would probably insist one of the others should go, even though he would really love to take the emitter himself. But he puts the others first -- and he's also a little scared of how Rios might react if he tags along with them. And what happens if someone deactivates you while you're wearing the mobile emitter? And then Rios would have to carry the emitter around and if anything happened to it or to Steward, Rios would blame himself! But going on an adventure would be quite something...

Enoch would LOVE to go and would have the time of his life. He'd probably get lost several times (listen. Finding your way around a space station has nothing to do with being a good navigator!) and end the outing having been adopted by half the people at whatever this adventure takes place -- and deeply despised by the other half for his perpetual cheeriness. I'm sure the crew would love to have him around, though there's always a risk he might get distracted and wander off.

Emil would have to be dragged off the ship and be annoyed about it because He Has Better Things To Do. He'd probably be fairly crabby and exasperated when, inevitably, some part of the adventure derails and his services are required. The annoyance is a bit of a show, though. Deep down, he'd be both excited and, if he's really, really honest about it, a little scared to go exploring. Being cut off from the ship's scanners is unnerving. And it's one thing to worry about your crew from afar and know there's nothing you can do, or to have them on your ship where you have a fully stocked sickbay and control over the replicators and environment. It's a whole other thing to be out and about where anything could happen and you couldn't even convince Rios to bring along a full medkit! Of course you still snuck it into one of the bags, but it's Not The Same. But then again, seeing the outside world is quite something!

Emmet would trudge along with the crew, find the first comfy spot and go to sleep. And then they'd get into trouble and he'd be right there in the thick of it, helping them all out, and then go back to dozing off. He'd probably be very entertaining to have around for Rios and Seven, so if they get to choose who comes along, it'll be Emmet. And if somebody asks him, he'll probably agree that taking the Tactical Hologram along for extra security is always a smart move. But I don't think he'd necessarily volunteer. Way too much effort. And then, when it's all said and done and the crew is having drinks at a seedy bar, suddenly Emmet comes alive and entertains them all with stories about Rios's misspent youth and creatively cheating at cards.

So yeah. They all deserve to go out! Every last one of them! And it depends on if you want to maximise efficiency, chaos, or entertainment which one you would send along. But in the end, they would probably all insist on sharing the emitter and Ian would find a way to make it happen.

[deus-ex-mona]

w h y did the preview have to drop now of all times?

[mollymauk-teafleak]

now I wake up by your side

Yes I'm writing fic for a movie from the eighties. Blame @nb-fearne and leave a comment on Ao3, cheers

-

It's September 20th 2011 and Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell has something to tell the world. At three in the morning. Through a megaphone.

-

Tom had never slept well when he was alone. 

Not when he was young, lying there tense under the weight of it all, hearing enough of the shouting below him that he’d never be able to sleep until Sarah crawled under his sheets to curl up in his arms. Not in flight school, always making sure to linger in the gym so there would be plenty of other bodies in the darkness beside him when he finally collapsed onto his bunk. Not at Miramar when he’d always find excuses to stay up going over manuals and strategy with Slider so his RIO would fall asleep on the sofa and he’d have his comforting snores to fall asleep to. 

Sleeping alone had never felt safe to Tom, not even now all of those days were far in the past. Not even now he was fifty, with a pretty damn sizeable part of the United States Navy answered to him, with silver hair and knees that ached no matter how religiously he kept up with his morning runs. He was still lying in the dark at some vague, murky hour before sunrise, staring at the ceiling and trying to turn off his brain. 

Because despite his best efforts, he was sleeping alone again. Maverick wasn’t where he should be, flung across Tom like he’d fallen from some great height, fidgeting and restless even in his sleep so their dog tags would be knotted when Tom tried to ease out from under him in the morning. He wasn’t even down the hall, in the bedroom they pretended was his whenever the wrong kind of people were visiting but, in reality, more belonged to the dog than anyone. He wasn’t down on the sofa either, which still occasionally happened even now they were too old to be having fights like that. 

Maverick was somewhere halfway across the world, doing the kind of work he should have been promoted away from years ago but his attitude kept tossing him back into. Tom did his best, he really did, but people had started realising he’d appointed himself Peter Mitchell’s guardian angel and were taking evasive action. Reassignment papers and deployment orders had stopped appearing on his desk until it was too late, until no amount of the infamous Kazansky glowering could undo them. 

Of course, Maverick didn’t help himself by continuing to be a cocky, dismissive asshole well into his late forties. But if people were waiting for that to change, they’d be waiting a long damn time. 

So his Pete was somewhere far away, he didn’t know where exactly because he deliberately didn’t look too deeply into where his wingman got sent or what dangerous things he’d be doing when he got there. Bad form for an admiral, Tom knew, but slightly better for his anxiety. If he didn’t know otherwise, he could tell himself Maverick was just doing cargo runs or being a bad influence to the younger lieutenants and mouthing off to the captains, hurtling through the sky at ridiculous speeds just because he loved it and not because people were shooting at him. It didn’t mean Tom believed it but he could try and tell himself that.

Wherever Maverick was, he wasn’t here. So Tom was awake. 

His therapist had told him to pick a category and try to come up with something in that category for every letter of the alphabet, no cheating by using something you were already familiar with. When Bradley was going through his baseball phase in high school, Tom had done MLB teams. When he’d pivoted to performing arts club, he’d tried musicals or composers. If he was missing his Babushka and the long, golden weekends he’d spent as a small boy, protected within her cluttered, tiny kitchen as he helped her cook, Tom would do ingredients.

But it was Peter Mitchell he was lying awake and missing tonight so the category could only be cheesy sixties tunes. The kind he loved to hear belting out, cheerfully off key, over the sound of the running shower or from the kitchen over the clattering of dishes in the sink. The kind he’d wrinkle his nose at but would find himself humming over reports in his office. 

Tom turned for what had to be the hundredth time in the last hour, pulling the covers tighter around him as he tried to remember that one song Mav always sang when he was about three to four beers deep. The one with the sickly sweet lyrics he’d always direct at Tom just to see his face turn red. Or to make him kiss him, just so he’d shut the hell up. God, it had been so long since he’d kissed him…

He could feel his thoughts finally getting fuzzy around the edges, his brain finally grinding to a halt now he’d given it something to chew on. Maybe he’d be able to get a couple of hours after all, get himself down to three coffees at work the next day rather than four. Still three more than the doctor had advised him but running a Navy was damn hard. 

Something struck the window with a light tap, sending Tom’s brain snapping back to awareness, adrenaline slapping him across the face and making him flinch. With a growl of frustration, he turned his face into the pillow, thinking very unkind thoughts about whatever bird had just bumped into the glass. It wasn’t as if flying was all that hard. 

Until it happened again, a lighter sound. Then another, a beat later. A longer pause, then again. Like hail that hadn’t made up its mind. Frowning, Tom sat up, shivering a little as the sheets fell to his waist. It was just darkness outside the window, they lived far enough out from the city that the night sky was true, honest black. Fear prickled at his spine for a moment until he saw what was making the sound. 

Pebbles. Tiny little pebbles hitting the window with soft plinking sounds. 

Tom didn’t know for sure. He had no way of knowing. But somehow, deep down inside himself, he did. And so he was smiling as he threw back the blankets and made his slightly aching legs stagger towards the window. 

As it happened, Tom could have been sleeping soundly. Because Pete Mitchel wasn’t halfway across the world. He was standing in their driveway at three in the morning wearing civilian clothes and a smile too big for his face. 

But he was also holding a megaphone. So maybe Tom hadn’t been anxious enough.

Whatever ridiculous thing was about to happen, Tom was giddy with delight, like if he could tear his eyes away from Maverick, he’d see his feet weren’t actually touching the floor. Just the overwhelming sense of relief that the world was right again, that all the missing pieces were back in place and he could take a full, real breath again. 

“What the hell are you doing, Mitchell?” He threw the window open and leaned out of it, beaming despite how much he looked like he was in a very strange production of Romeo and Juliet. 

“Be more specific, Kazansky!” Mav grinned at him, “What the hell am I doing home early, what the hell am I doing standing in the driveway or what the hell am I doing with this?” He waved the megaphone somewhat threateningly. 

“All of the above!” Thoughts were running frantically around his mind, ones he didn’t dare shout down to him but wanted to, God, I missed that voice, I missed that smile, I missed the way you tilt your head up to look at me, I missed the way your hair never stays neat, I missed the way you look at me...

“Well, all of those very valid questions have one very simple answer,” Maverick set his hands on his hips, like the showman he could be when he had something ridiculous planned and there was no way for Tom to escape, when he knew he was about to turn his wingman’s face a shade of red human skin probably shouldn’t ever be, “That answer being that as of three hours and twenty seven minutes ago, it is officially September 20th.” 

Understanding began to crystallise in the back of Tom’s mind, the part that wasn’t completely devoted to just processing the fact that Maverick was standing in front of him when he hadn’t expected to see him for another week. That distance being exactly why he hadn’t been counting down to this date. The date he, and probably more of his fellow servicemen and women than he’d ever know, had been simultaneously waiting for and terrified would never come. After the years of growing so comfortable with fear that he didn’t know how to live without it, after the bitter disappointment when he’d let himself actually hope back in the nineties when he should have known better, after years of climbing higher and higher in the system that he loved and hated him back until he’d started to get dizzy, Tom hadn’t let himself feel this day coming. 

But apparently Pete Mitchell had been braver than that. 

“I wanted to be here by midnight but the flight was delayed and traffic was insane, why the hell are you West Coast people going places at the fucking ass crack of dawn? Anyway, it’s September 20th which means I’m officially allowed to do this…”

“Do what?” a cold feeling that might have been panic and might have been excitement and was probably both ran down Tom’s spine as Maverick lifted the megaphone to his lips, “Oh god-”

By definition, you didn’t need to yell into a megaphone. But Maverick did it anyway, his voice made tinny and cranked up to jet engine levels, booming out through their quiet neighbourhood.

“I, Captain Pete Mitchell, callsign Maverick, love Admiral Thomas Kazansky, callsign Iceman. I’ve loved him every day since 1986 and I’ll love him until they put my ass in the ground. I love him more than my bike and more than my jet and more than my jacket. I am 100% prime time in love with him and there’s nothing the United States Navy can do about it!”

“Oh my god, Maverick!” Tom was frozen in disbelieving, delighted horror, only his hands able to move as they clutched his hair, silver now rather than blonde, and his mouth as it somehow managed to smile even wider, “I…you just woke the whole neighbourhood and I’m not even wearing a goddamn shirt…they already don’t like you…”

Maverick just laughed in sheer, shameless joy as a dog started barking two doors down and lights came on in several houses, “Say it back then! You can, it’s okay!”

And it was. God damn him, it was okay. It had always been okay, whatever anyone said. 

Tom didn’t have a megaphone but he had a set of admiral’s lungs. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled as loud as he possibly could, “I love Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell! I’m gay and there’s nothing anyone can fucking do about it!”

Maverick whooped and hollered, tears in his eyes that Tom could see from two storeys up. He had a look on his face that Tom had seen nearly thirty years ago now, when they’d buzzed that tower. The moment he’d always said was the instant he realised he was in love with his wingman. 

“Now get your ass up here before we get arrested for disturbing the peace!” Tom’s voice had an edge of begging now, “Also so I can kiss you.”

“Sir, yes sir!” Maverick snapped him a salute and sprinted for the door.

Tom met him halfway down the stairs, snatching him up and hugging him so hard he knew he was hurting him but Maverick only sighed like he’d finally got his head above water. Tom breathed in the scent of him, the smell of that old leather jacket he was still wearing, the edge of gasoline and standard issue soap. He felt his heart beating against his own chest, slowly coming back into rhythm with Tom’s. 

It was the same sweet relief of every homecoming they’d ever had, the one that almost made the parting worth it but not quite. But this time there was something more. Not just the joy of right now but the promise of something new in the future. Something unknown and more than a little terrifying but it was addictive as every fear Tom had ever come across. He was more than happy to chase it. 

It was a little fuzzy, hard to follow when there were so many more important things to be paying attention to, like Maverick’s lips on his, his hair tickling Tom’s nose, his hands roaming eagerly over his body, but somehow they made it upstairs and back onto the bed, Mav still fully clothed because neither of them were willing to draw apart for that long. Not yet anyway. 

“Are you going to say something?” Mav murmured, as Tom’s thumb traced gentle circles on his cheek, “Make a big important admiral statement or whatever? I mean, you don’t have to, just because you can be out doesn’t mean it’s the only option-”

“No, I want to,” Tom cut across him gently, the way he needed to sometimes when Maverick started nervously rambling, “It’s important, not just to me.”

Maverick grinned, that smile that hadn’t changed in thirty years, “The very first openly gay admiral…thats a lot of responisbility?”

“Well, I’ve been keeping you in check for thirty years, I’d like to start getting some recognition,” Tom smirks, mostly to cover the rush of nerves he felt at the truth of Mav’s words.

They’d known each other far too long for him to be fooled though, Mav’s mismatched eyes softening with the depths of emotion Tom had once been terrified of. He laid his palm on his chest and slid a leg up to his hip. 

“There’s no one I’d trust more to change the goddamn world, Tom,” his fingers tracing the freckles on his shoulders, “And I’m so proud of you.”

Tom smiled softly, “Is it weird that I’m proud of myself too?”

He got his answer in the form of a breathless kiss, Mav rolling until he was on top, straddling Tom and leaning down to press their foreheads together, “God, I fucking love you.” 

“I love you too,” Tom smirked, bemused, more than ready for things to move towards one of their usual homecomings, especially now Mav’s crotch was grinding down on his own. 

Maverick seemed to be in agreement, drawing back to toss his jacket overboard and sweep his shirt over his head though he paused halfway, as if struck by a thought. His eyes were bright with triumph as they locked on Tom. 

“Dibs on proposing!” he barked, grinning crookedly. 

For a moment, Tom was confused before realisation and horror struck him, “Oh god. Maverick. I swear to God…”

That argument followed them into fucking, rolling and shoving and nipping, playful and sweet all at once. As he remembered oh, it really is this good, before he let go of his thoughts for a little while, Tom made a promise. To himself, to Maverick, to everyone like them who’d come after them. 

He was going to be brave. 

[ythmir-writes]

Be My Valentine Content Creation Challenge 2022 - Day 01

prompt #01: "Of course I figured it out. You were always giving me that love-struck gaze."

fandom: Ikemen Prince feat: Chevalier Michel 6.6k words

tags: swearing, physical injuries, fighting, the fact that this is -not- the valentine themed piece you may have expected but it is not angst, i promise quick summary: Narrator tries very hard to punch Chev, nuff said

“It’s really happening.”

I had only just raised the fork to my mouth when Clavis Lelouch stood to my right, Yves Kloss just behind him, and my first thoughts were that it would definitely be a waste to let the cake hanging in the air like that. So I took the bite and chewed. “I did say after three.”

“This is madness.” Yves said for the umpteenth time, waving a hand at the rack of weapons south of us. “The lot of you are insane.”

I chewed on more cake and Clavis winked at him. “Aren’t we all?”

Yves ignored him. “Do you have your second – wait, no, I shouldn’t have asked.” He was looking behind me. I turned and there was Rio, right on time and making a beeline to where we stood. I could not tell if his smile was genuine. Probably genuinely murderous. He would’ve heard how things ended up like this and he would definitely be giving me an earful for it too.

“Luke’s filled in the other spot.” Clavis informed us, looking at the other end of the training grounds. He waved and Luke waved back.

“Sure you don’t want to be over there and be second?” I asked Clavis.

“Ha!” Clavis’s eyes gleamed with an almost unnatural shine, amusement dripping from him. Soon enough, he’d be bouncing on the balls of his feet. “He didn’t want me.”

Yves huffed. “I thought Sariel would’ve put a stop to it but apparently – and I’m quoting you on this – it’s happening with his blessing.”

“It is.” I answered, truthfully. Because of course none of this could happen without Sariel knowing. I thought back to just how quickly Sariel had known my little stunt and a quiet shiver went down my spine. I would have told him, really. Eventually. With results. But when they said the walls had ears, they probably were thinking of Sariel and his network. Anything that happened inside Rhodolite’s palace, the King’s Regent knew. And it always had something in it for him to boot.

I should know, I was in on one.

“You asked for a duel.” Sariel had said the moment I was in his office. It had not been a question; I knew enough of Sariel’s tones to know that he did not expect to be answered. But I replied anyway.

“I was – am angry.” I had said, which had been untrue at that exact moment, because the burning anger I had felt was then only a smoldering ember.

Sariel steepled his fingers and gave me a long look. He caught the lie and I hung my head in shame. When I could no longer take his silence I had asked, “Do you want me to explain?”

“I think I already understand why things came to be the way they are.” Sariel then laid out my plans and he hit every point with an accuracy that would have sent me reeling if he wasn’t the King Regent.

“Don’t do anything reckless.” Sariel had said when he finished, and I could remember the look on his face that told me no outcome other than the one in his head was acceptable. I had nodded and sworn. And that was that.

“He asked Licht to oversee.” I continued, forking over another mouthful of cake.

“It doesn’t help.” Yves said.

“You couldn’t ask for a better judge.” Clavis countered.

That was true. Licht acting as judge meant two things. First, things would be fair. Too fair even; no one could be more impartial. Second, things were pretty serious since Licht’s entire division could possibly stay to watch.

Already the training yard was filling with soldiers. I could make out the Rhodolitian rose crests, Leon’s with the forward facing lions, and of course Licht’s wolves. I didn’t want the audience but you don’t throw the words challenge and duel against Chevalier Michel and expect the infantry to pretend not to hear.

“You could always just call it off.” Yves was relentless. “Chevalier won’t go easy on you just because you’re you.”

I frowned. “He better not.”

“He’s going to beat you to a pulp!”

“I do promise to look away when Chev cleaves you in half,” chimed Clavis. “Better to make sure my last memory of you is here scarfing down cake before your imminent death.”

I rolled my eyes at Clavis before turning to Yves. “It’s going to be fine.”

Yves still looked ready to implode. “How in the Monarch’s name is all this going to end up fine? You have the entire Rhodolite army as witness! You challenged him! Chevalier isn’t called the Bloody Tiger because he likes to wear red!”

I chewed on more cake, looking at Yves and Clavis. I had half my mind to tell them the reason because it was all going to be in everyone’s face in the next few minutes but Sariel’s warning held me back. Don’t do anything reckless. I wanted to argue – if challenging the second prince to a sword fight wasn’t reckless, then was everything else a free pass?

I frowned again. Was that what Sariel was telling me? No, I shouldn’t try to put words into his mouth again. If Chevalier doesn’t end me, that definitely will.

I caught Clavis smiling at me and I wondered for how long I had been lost in thought. I looked down at my empty plate. Settled for something easier to explain. “Prince Chevalier is royalty and technically since a commoner challenged him, we’re fighting under the Code of Duels. Under the rules, as a royal who’s had the better education, he’s bound to let me choose the weapon and how the match will be scored, among other things. There’s also the rule on leniency. He’s not going to charge in there like he usually does. We’re not battling to the death.”

“I know the damn duelling code. It’s archaic.” Yves glowered. “You’re much too naive if you think the word lenient can’t be so arbitrarily defined.”

“It’s fine.” I shrugged, but that was the wrong move to placate Yves because he looked ready give another earful. But Rio was there, placing a hand on Yves’ shoulder as if to pat the prince into calmness.

“It’s going to be fine.” He echoed.

“And what makes you say that?” Yves challenged him, poking Rio on the chest. “Shouldn’t you be her first line of defense? I expected you to talk some sense into her!”

“Please calm down, Prince Yves.” Rio continued smiling and patted Yves on the head.

As Yves sputtered, shocked and indignant, I watched Rio carefully, ready to intervene if he would over explain anything.

Clavis watched me watching Rio. I glared. Clavis’s replying grin was sly. Why was it so hard to stand before the man and not think I was slowly being trapped?

“You know, Yves,” Clavis spoke slowly, his eyes never leaving me. “For all us being worried, haven’t you wondered if our Belle can fight?”

“But Belle isn’t –! How could –?”

“Whoops, look at the time!” I ducked out of the makeshift tent, walking away from the sound of Clavis’s laughter. Don’t do anything reckless, Sariel said. But couldn’t punching a prince in the gut because he scared you with his intuition be considered as self-defense?

In all honesty, I shared Yves’s apprehension. I knew the Code would be of little help to me – or to any other challenger, for that matter. Prince Chevalier was a force in the battlefield. A storm in and of himself. We’d all heard the stories. Gossip in the Commons about him had always been rampant, but was now resurging exponentially with Obsidian baying at our borders. How he would charge headlong into enemy lines without fear. How he would decimate entire platoons without suffering any injury. How he would bathe in red.

You can outrun the Lion’s roar but you will never see the Tiger until it was too late. We held the Bloody Tiger in awe and in fear and I had always thought the title of Beast befitting him the most out of all his brothers.

And my experience with him did little to change his reputation.

Rio trotted behind me and instantly the smile he had dropped. He gave me a look, that one look reserved for when things were veering completely out of his control; eyes narrowed, lips thin.

“I know.” I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Couldn’t you have tried a game of chess instead?”

“Strategy’s not my forte.”

“Knowing that perhaps you could have come to me first.”

I grimaced, more guilty that Rio was worried than I was at picking a fight I could have avoided. The thought did occur to me – except only after the gauntlet had been figuratively thrown down and I had no more choice but to move forward. Chevalier hadn’t even tried to talk me down or let me take it back. The moment the challenge escaped my lips he’d accepted, catching the glove I’d thrown before it could hit him.

“When?” Chevalier had said.

“Tomorrow, after three. Training grounds.” I’d spat back. “Bring a second.”

“I don’t need one against you.”

Well I was going to prove him wrong. I placed a hand on Rio’s shoulder, felt even guiltier at how tense he felt.

“You’ll really fight, then?” He asked, voice as serious as I’ve ever heard it.

“Yes.” I answered. “Sariel agreed. I got this.”

“I can always take your place.” Rio’s eyes shone with a pleading look. “Please let me take your place.”

“No. This is between him and me.” I said firmly and Rio relented, pouting.

Someone cheered from the crowd. Rio and I turned to see none other than Chevalier Michel, emerging from the northern gate. Despite wearing only a simple shirt as were the duelling standards, his every step drew all eyes towards him. Nokto Klein was just behind him. He smiled as he saw me, and said something to Chevalier.

Chevalier turned his head and even with the distance, he instantly found me, zeroing in where Rio and I stood, and not taking his eyes away. Rio reflexively tried to shield me but I took hold of his arm gently, stopping him. Meeting Chevalier’s piercing stare, I reminded myself to keep breathing. In and out through gritted teeth.

Of all the Princes, Chevalier was the hardest to crack. Though Leon’s ferocity was something we equally feared, his charm and easy-going nature made him approachable and conversations with him felt sincere, genuine. It felt like you were talking to someone who actually cared, someone who would see to it that your concerns as an ordinary citizen were heard and acted upon. You entered his court and felt the warm glow of his presence. He pulled you in to be friends.

Chevalier pulled you in only so his blade could kill you faster. His mercy was unknown to friends and foe alike. I could still remember the time I’d accompanied him at a ball and a young noble lady had been introduced to him, who could play the violin and was up to be a member of the Rhodolitian Royal Orchestra at the tender age of sixteen.

I smelled the hints of favor being curried the moment the girl’s father had spoken and expected the rebuke from Chevalier to come easily. The arts were under Yves, sometimes even Nokto and Clavis. The baron had approached the wrong prince to ask for patronage.

What I hadn’t expected was for Chevalier to cut father and child down with the first sentence that left his mouth, asking them what use was the girl to him and to his court. The girl had frozen up, petrified, and the baron had gaped like a fish out of water.

They had meant well. Whether Chevalier cared they had approached him because they genuinely thought he might be interested in the girl’s talents, I didn’t know and couldn’t tell. He was already dismissing them from his presence before they could even squeeze a word in.

I hadn’t been able to help myself even then. I scooped up the fragments of conversation, turned it into something that allowed for Chevalier to address them again and put a balm on the sting of his words. If he wanted.

He’d glared at me but had at least made vague promises to attend the next concert or other if his schedule allowed. The father and daughter had looked relieved and had thanked us both profusely. Before I could personally thank Chevalier for letting me do what I had done – because of course even I knew the dangers of overstepping – he had turned away and left, declaring he was wasting his time and was no longer interested in mingling.

That was not the last time I had seen the legendary cruelty of the second prince. He refused to parley with criminals. He stamped out opposition at the slightest hint. He hunted down traitors and made sure to bleed whoever sponsored them dry. I would not put it past him to do it literally, even. And it was no secret that his goal was to ultimately take the war Obsidian so obviously wanted to it first. Bring the fight to them when they least expected it, crush them, force Obsidian into a state of impotency as a military force – and only then will Rhodolite be at peace.

It was insane, a sure-fire way to bury Rhodolite in ruins, and Leon had declared as much. But that was Chevalier’s trademark. External Affairs looked out towards the world and protected its citizens from dangers without. To do this, it had to make sure it kept a wary eye on anything and everything that might be a danger, especially from shared borders. Once a threat was identified, it was but the duty of those in power to make cuts as precisely or as deeply as possible, to make sure the body as a whole did not suffer. Chevalier would never hesitate to brandish his blade at anyone – anyone at all – who so much as thinks they could harm the kingdom.

Two months in as Belle and I was ashamed to admit I only had a rudimentary understanding of Chevalier or his politics. Sure, I’ve read the books but if I wanted to do my duty, it was not enough to only learn it academically. I needed to know more, to understand more why Chevalier was doing the things he did.

But the goddamn prince was so hard to pin down and even my position as Belle could only do so much. Most attempts I had to speak with him would often lead to me having to wrestle with Clavis and Nokto, and the few times I’d been able to corner Chevalier, he’d be out and about because of problems at the borders with Obsidian, if not Jade. It was more than obvious the prince was avoiding me. He never did believe in the Belle system so why give me even the time of the day?

I tried to decipher the man through the books he read, pulling out the titles I’ve seen on his desk and trying to puzzle out what was going through his head. However, Chevalier was a voracious reader and it was hard to keep with his pace. A few times, I’d tried to sneak books of my own choosing into the piles he read, inserting novels I liked here and there. Every time, I’d find the book almost immediately back in my chambers, too fast for anyone to have properly read them. The only proof I had that Chevalier even bothered to open them were the bookmarks he’d left behind with notes at how atrocious the protagonist was, or how the plot moved at a snail’s pace, or some other comment he had. I’d expected this to bridge whatever gap remained between us but Chevalier remained elusive and before long, I’d given up. I wasn’t going to let him continue to needle on my books. Thrice, I’d accidentally chanced upon him at the library, sat on his favorite armchair. But those were the only times Chevalier looked human and I could not find it in myself to steal what little reprieve he had for himself.

At the last round table meeting, the issue of the Anti-War Faction had come up once again. The Klein twins had sniffed out that the rumors of a group of nobles rallying against Chevalier were true and were too good at slipping through their traps. That told us that though the group was tight-lipped, it was thankfully, small. However, Nokto suspected it would only be a matter of time before the group’s ideals got traction and if it did, it could possibly undermine Chevalier’s efforts to keep Obsidian at bay.

The tension that day had been palpable. Chevalier had been glaring at Leon as if the anti-war sentiments were from Internal Affairs. Leon had been pointedly not looking at his brother and was saying it was only but obvious that people did not want to subject themselves to war.

“We all still remember the Bloody Rose.” Leon had said. “It was not so long ago that Rhodolite has had a taste of a fraction of the damage war could bring.”

“Bloody Rose will only be but the beginning if we don’t move to root out this dissent before it goes out of hand.”

“The welfare of the people, I think, should be considered the most important. What good is a kingdom without its people?”

I had gritted my teeth, squeezed into the conversation. “I agree with Prince Leon. The Commons know what it’s like to be at war. If they are the ones being influenced by whatever philosophy this group has, they’ll easily agree.”

“Sheep swayed by a single piper are hardly worth considering.” Clavis interjected.

“Who do you think suffered the most after the Bloody Rose? Countless knights lost their lives yes but the citizens suffered too! Do you remember the pillaging? The mercenaries? Or were your walls to high you didn’t even hear them crying out?”

“Inevitable but temporary state of things in war.” Chevalier had answered. “We all must sacrifice something for the kingdom."

“Life and limb, yeah? Tell that to the family who’s lost a father, a mother, a child! Who lost entire families and homes they’ve had for generations! We all know in this room, you princes carry the burden of your decisions. Noblesse oblige is the duty you all carry out to try to tip the scales. But there is no need for war now – why are you insisting it’s the only course of action?”

“The people don’t know how to think for themselves.”

Wow. “We can think for ourselves, thank you very much.”

“If you are any example, I’d really beg to differ.” Chevalier levelled me a look. “But I don’t beg.”

And that had been it. Before I understood what I was doing, I had moved, I had grabbed my glove and thrown it at Chevalier with all the frustration I had for him and his infuriating evasiveness and his belittling, and his refusal to meet me whichever way.

I glared as Chevalier reached us. He looked impassive, as if I was a scheduled appointment he’d rather do without and that just angered me all over again. I was trying to understand him! Monarch’s light, was that so bad?

Rio squeezed my arm. “Be careful.”

I nodded at him and saw Chevalier’s eyes slide towards Rio, at his hand on my arm, before dismissing him too.

Licht appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. At least he had the right to look bored. He glanced at me and I nodded to him in silent thanks. . He was the only one from Internal Affairs who had supported me to go for a duel that day. Or at least, he didn’t try to stop me.

Licht recited the relevant rules of the Code of Duels to us, even adding in the formal oaths and prayers, and when he finished, he angled his head and let us to it.

“Terms?” Chevalier asked me.

Even at our almost similar heights, I felt like he was looking down on me. I wanted to say full contact, yield. But I was not insane. This much, the Code could protect me. “First blood. Best of three.”

“First blood. Best of three.” Chevalier repeated in agreement without reaction. “Weapon?”

I waved to the display. “Free choice.” And I turned and did not wait for him. Free Choice meant Chevalier and I could use any weapon we wanted from what’s available. And there were plenty. The training grounds boasted six racks of different weapons from all over the world. I recognized blades from Obsidian, Jade and Benitoite. Great swords, rapiers, a halberd as tall as me, and even some curved blades from the kingdoms in the South East. Axes. Spears. Sabers. Falchions – a broad sword that looked like only Luke could swing it with one hand. It was almost dizzying to be in front of so many weapons but it struck me that they were too beautiful, too well-made.

“Your personal collection?”

“It seemed like a special occasion.” Chevalier answered from where he was surveying the racks.

Great. So the rumors were true that the second prince knew to handle any piece of weaponry. I turned back to the weapons, considering my options. I had not touched live steel since being Belle. I would have loved to test a schiavona but I could not risk the fancy hand guard getting in the way. Chevalier was built like a warrior, only just slightly leaner. I still remember seeing Licht helping him dress a wound he could not quite reach on his back. I glanced over at him. He had power, speed, and strength on his side. But I had speed too and I needed something to match him.

I stopped in front of the same rack as Chevalier. Twin swords lay before us and as I watched him watch me, it seemed we had the same pick. The swords were unadorned, probably thirty-two inches long, classic cross-guard. The hilt was around four inches, wrapped in simple leather and ending with an equally plain pommel. The sword screamed simplicity and efficiency and out of all Chevalier’s weapons, their lacklustre appearance made them stand out.

I grabbed one. Chevalier took the other. If I squinted, I could tell you Chevalier’s smile was approving and warm.

We walked away from each other to give us space. I tested the sword in both hands. It was a good sword and most importantly it felt good. Lighter than I thought but balanced. Rio nodded at me. I pretended not to hear Yves’ gasp or the approval from Leon. The Fourth Prince grinned as my eyes singled him out and returned to having some sort of hushed conversation with Clavis and Jin.

Chevalier looked unsurprised. I wondered how much of this he was able to anticipate. I did not take him to be so blind to me as he let on, but I could not deny the empty feeling in me to not at least get some reaction from him.

Yes, Princes. Your Belle is a fighter so why doesn’t Chevalier even look a little bit surprised?

“You look disappointed.” Chevalier said.

What was it with the princes and reading moods? “Thought you’d be fighting me with a fancy rapier, is all.”

“And miss the opportunity to teach you a lesson?” He carried the sword as if it was the most natural thing in the world, an extension of him. “You will lose.”

“I won’t.”

Chevalier moved, a swing across the chest. I saw through the test and felt almost offended. I parried, the flat of my blade deflecting his and pushing back. He whirled, too much exaggeration in movement, and I took half a step back, blocking and countering.

I could play along. I mimicked his last move but at the last minute shot out like a coiled spring. Chevalier narrowed his eyes as he blocked with his sword. Any slower and he would have lost an ear. I sliced again, right to left, left to right, right to left. Chevalier dodged, parried – he was planning to trap me with his left arm.

I closed my fist and swung. It grazed more than hurt Chevalier but if he was thinking I was planning to fight with him like a good knight, he was going to be in for a hell of a surprise.

Someone whooped – I bet an arm it was Clavis – and cheering rumbled through our audience.

I smirked at him. “What does the winner get?”

“A bad idea!” Yves called out with worry.

“You won’t win.” Chevalier said.

“Afraid?” I goaded him. “If I win, you get to answer any questions I have from here on out.”

Chevalier took a moment to consider. “And if I win?”

“You won’t.”

“You’ll agree to join me in a full excursion to Obsidian borders.”

I frowned. That was unexpected. But also unsurprising. Did Chevalier want me to see the ‘horrors’ of war first hand? Is this an effort to make me balk and surrender meekly to him? He’d be disappointed. I was no stranger to death. “Deal.”

Chevalier considered me. “So that’s how it is.”

That I could not guess what he was getting at worried me. Slightly. “Finally figured me out, huh.”

“Of course, I figured it out.” he said, beginning to move.

“Oh?” I matched him and we slowly circled one another.

“You were always looking at me with a love-struck gaze.”

“You were!” Clavis shouted and I scowled – because how in the Monarch’s name could he have possibly heard that? Was the wind carrying over everything we were saying?

“Murderous, you mean?” I growled.

“In your book, isn’t that the same thing?” Chevalier huffed – in amusement? scorn? – I didn’t want to think too much into it because such a soft sound as Chevalier chuckling should not be preceding his opening attack.

And yet here he were.

He struck first again, faster, closing the distance without hesitation. Pure reflex from years of experience was the only thing that saved me. I managed to block the strike, raising my sword with both hands to stop Chevalier’s cut. The force of the blow jarred me, the sound like claws unsheathing. Prove the point already that you were really playing with me just now!My arms tingled with the fierceness of his strike but Chevalier did not relent. A growl came from him and in that moment, I felt a stab of mind-numbing fear. He took the opportunity and attacked again and again. I dodged, parried. I sprang back, narrowly escaping as Chevalier pressed the advantage, looking as if he intended to cleave through me just like Clavis had warned. Stinging pain on my left arm told me I took a misstep, not completely blocking Chevalier’s strike.

“Point!”

“Had enough already?” Chevalier frowned at me from where he stood. Rules forced challengers to step back after contact. But when had he gotten there? “Wasting my time even with this?”

When was the last time I took a cut like that? None since being Belle. Only occasionally since starting the bookshop. I’d forgotten how much I loathed the pain and how intolerant I was of the inconvenience of even a minor cut. I made a poor enough mercenary, shuddering at the thought of going back to the hard life. And I was no knight meant to carry on with a hundred wounds in the battlefield either.

I grimaced in pain and stopped just shy of touching my wound. I didn’t need the disadvantage of a slippery hilt.

“Didn’t you want answers?”

I did. And I had a point to make. So, I took hold of my anger and used it to push through the pain, push through the fear.

This time, I was prepared to receive him. Chevalier’s blows were quick, quicker than anything I’ve ever encountered but I refused to acknowledge the creeping insecurity – was I fast enough, was I trained enough – and cast aside the ifs or what coulds, focusing solely on the man in front of me looking to tear me apart. I reminded myself of why I was here and matched him in that desire; I was going to tear him open a new one if it meant he would finally take me seriously. I met Chevalier head-on, parrying when I could, pressing into his left where he was at a very slight disadvantage, and entering his striking distance to catch him off guard. It was a risk – the arc where a sword swung was always lethal – but it paid off. Chevalier only barely expected me to lunge and it let me cut him on the shoulder.

“Point.”

Leave it to Licht to see even from this distance. I stepped back, grinning, swinging my sword in a lazy arc.

A minute and a half in – a lifetime in a fight – and Chevalier and I had a point each. And oh he was going to really bleed with that one.

“Even.” Licht’s voice seemed to be the only sound. “First one to land the next –”

We didn’t let Licht finish. I went in, moving as fast as I could the moment I saw Chevalier take a step. I swiped once, twice, forcing Chevalier to react to me. There were only so many ways to make sure your opponent stayed on the defensive. Strike as fast as you could, aim for even the slightest openings, and never ever relent. Don’t let the aches and pains stop your movements, push through it and focus only on your opponent. I was not interested in Chevalier leading the dance a second time. Strike. Strike. Strike. Quick and fluid; the sword is in my hand, is my arm and moving it was like breathing.

Don’t do anything reckless – I realize now it was meant not just to warn me but to caution me. Don’t put yourself at risk, Sariel had wanted to say. Don’t fight like the way you’ve fought before.

But what kind of life would we all have, if a little risk wasn’t part of the equation?

I was the Belle with a sword, making sure the Tiger saw.

Because how could I expect Chevalier to open up to me if I was not willing to risk being seen first? Really fully seen? If he would not listen when it came to his policies, then maybe maybewe had something else in which we could converse. Weeks of trying and agonizing and being frustrated – and all it took was a well-timed remark, a glove, and a challenge declared.

Look at me Bloody Tiger! I am here and we are fighting – No. No, we weren’t fighting. Semantics be damned – we were having a conversation.

I knew Chevalier also saw nothing else, no one else. As we traded blows, as steel rang through the training yard, the ice in Chevalier’s eyes was replaced with a fire that I would have turned away from if I was not so sure doing so would cost me my head. He was answering me blow for goddamn blow. And my heart soared at the thought. Even as a particularly forceful cut jarred me again, even as I grunted in frustration for my arms practically shaking in my attempt to block him, I could not help but feel elated. In this, we were almost equals.

Almost.

Chevalier parried, then his sword came over his head, slicing down. I dodged and too late realized he had expected me to, because as I moved his sword continued on to follow me. Time slowed, my movements felt like I was underwater. Chevalier put all of his momentum into the swing and I barely had time to thrust my blade in the way. The blow knocked me back and I felt like I flew a hundred feet. Chevalier kept coming at me with methodical strikes. It was all I could do to keep up my blocks and finally was half a moment too slow. Pain lashed through me and I shouted as I grabbed Chevalier by the arm and aimed to strike at his nose. I missed by a hair and I jumped back, touching my stomach.

No blood.

Not a point!

Chevalier let out a laugh. It was short. A burst, nothing more. I would have wanted to hear it again but Chevalier twisted into a Jadean manuever and I dodged while guarding my legs. I kicked out, an effort to force him back, and he stepped away, chest heaving.

But it was so painfully obvious that Chevalier was at ease.

“You’re laughing!” I said, unable to stop the bubble of laughter coming from me either. “We’re here to settle a score and you’re laughing?” I couldn’t think; the sight of him looking so pleased was bringing a strange feeling in my chest. It was not fair the way Chevalier could immobilize me like that, struck dumb at the sight of him sweaty and laughing, a bleeding shoulder besides.

“Don’t get distracted.”

Sure, but maybe he should know it was not fair how he could be so unhesitant in taking advantage of that single instance of vulnerability and turn it into a win for himself.

I swore as I parried. Swore again as our blades met. It was as if something flipped and Chevalier’s movements were more fluid, more precise, and yet seemingly all the more relaxed. The Second Prince was having fun and not even getting sloppy for it. He was precise but by the Monarchs the strength of his blows felt like I was being hit by a heavy axe.

Whatever it was that switched the mood, I was at a loss to stop it. We clashed and danced across the clearing, a flurry of strikes exchanged. If Chevalier had been pure strength, now he had lightning and thunder to him I could only dream to match. He slashed diagonally, left to right then down and I could only barely move and parry. His next swing caught me, forcing me back and back and back. Despite best efforts, I felt myself melt into his rhythm. I was fast. But I had to accept that Chevalier was faster.

I swung from top downwards and to the right and my sword screeched against Chevalier’s. He parried, using my momentum to pull away my sword. Reacting quickly, I dug my heel and elbowed him on the stomach. He gave out a satisfactory oof. I grabbed his arm and tried to shock his wrist into letting go with my palm. Before it could connect, Chevalier had looped his arm around mine, and whatever force I had in my swing was not enough to make him drop his sword. I tried to kick him, tried to force him back with –

All of a sudden, the sky met the ground and my legs were in the air and I was placed unceremoniously flat on my back. Chevalier had me pinned down, hand on my chest, the blade just barely nicking my neck.

“Point.”

“Fuck.”

“How eloquent.” Chevalier muttered.

“That’s me.” I pushed hair out of my face.

“For Chevalier.” I heard Licht say.

Cheers from the knights erupted and it sounded much like the roaring of tigers. I hid my face behind my hands and hoped no one placed a bet on me and lost. They shouldn’t have and – no, who would have, really? I was just another Belle barely moments ago. And now? Well. We’ll all hear the rumors tomorrow.

My ass on the ground regardless, things had gone well. “Still my win.”

“Explain.”

I froze. I had not intended to say that out loud. I peeked at Chevalier through my fingers. It was hard to refuse with him pinning me down and his sword practically kissing my neck. If he moved even a little, he could choke me or let me bleed. “I made you take me seriously, King Highness.”

Chevalier levelled me with a look. I could only guess at what could possibly be going on in his head at the moment. His eyes were menacing still, the fight in him not having bled out yet and that piercing stare pinned me down more than his blade. I thought he would scoff. His mouth had moved, an upturn to his lips that I anticipated would end in smirk.

“Or maybe, I made you take me seriously, idiot.” His face mellowed into a smile I was too shocked at seeing it to completely comprehend what was happening. And then he moved and the moment was gone and he was standing and putting away his sword.

Don’t do anything reckless. Don’t do anything reckless. Would asking him to smile again be considered reckless? Would catching him with a surprise punch to his gut for confusing me land me in prison?

I opted for the saner option and let Chevalier help me up.

He pulled me close. “If your intention has always been just for us to talk, all you had to do was to approach me and stand your ground the way you did.” Chevalier was not finished admonishing me though. “I’ve always seen you, you idiot.” He leaned in closer. “So, don’t emulate Clavis or the clown.”

All warm thoughts shattered and I scowled. “That is the worst thing you could say to me.”

“I’m sure I could think of a few more.”

“I’m sure you could. Remind me again when it was best to approach you in all those times you weren’t at the castle and were busy snubbing me and making sure our paths never crossed. Busy with this. Busy with that. Oh no, Belle, Obsidian’s coming and I absolutely cannot make time. Absolutely available.”

I had not intended the bitter rebuke to meet its mark but Chevalier’s hesitating to reply told me it did. I was about to take some of it back but then he said, “Your tenacity unnerves me.”

“What?” I wasn’t quite sure I heard right.

Chevalier was suddenly very interested on the gash he left on my neck. “Give me some credit. Not my fault you never took the opportunities when I’m alone at the library.”

I pressed my lips together, unsure how to untangle the various emotions his touch or his little revelation was making me feel. “I will take all that as the compliment it was never intended to be.”

“Bring me better novels next time.”

“Hey!” I would have taken real offense if I hadn’t purposely chosen the sappiest ones for him to read. “They sell well for a reason. Your lack of taste is to blame.”

Chevalier sigh was almost resigned, almost tender. “If I read more of those flops I will be physically incapacitated.”

I made mental list of even worse ones to give him. “I’ll try.”

“Do better than try.” Chevalier’s gaze slipped past me and I saw the moment his gaze hardened and he was just the Second Prince again. I turned to look and saw Rio and the rest moving to meet us. “We depart for Obsidian three days from now. Make sure you’re ready.”

I’d forgotten about that; I juggled obligations in my head. “Hang on – that’s on the Feast of Valentines.”

“Your point?”

Nothing more romantic than scouting borders for acts of Obsidian aggression. “Are we going to finally be talking or are we just going to have another tête-à-tête with swords?”

“I can’t see why we cannot do both.” Then Chevalier left with a look that made me reconsider who exactly challenged whom in this fight.

[inriospocket]

Hi Daisy! If you’re up to it, could I please request on how rio would react to the woman he likes & is talking to/dating (not exclusively yet) going on a date with someone? Like imagine they’re hanging out with Marcus. Time gets away and she’s like “Listen it’s been so fun but I have to go prepare for my hot date” 😂😂😂 and like she was very open & honest in the beginning about dating multiple people before committing to the right one so he can’t really be mad. Lol thank you mama💕

I'm always up to it! Again sorry for taking so long but here ju go. :) ❀

word count ♡ 1,027

summary ♡ Reader is casually dating Rio. They're hanging out with each other along with Marcus and reader loses track of time remembering she has another date and Rio tries to not get super jealous since they're not exclusive yet.

situation ♡ fluffy

-

It was a nice era in your life where you were super comfortable in your career and in yourself that you finally had the time to start dating again. For now, it was casual, just getting to know other guys and seeing what you did and didn’t like in a man.

You had a couple on your list but Rio was your favorite. You weren’t exclusive yet but you enjoyed your short time together. So far, he’s been the only one to take you on a second date and this time he brought his little sidekick along, Marcus.

“We choosing sides now?” Rio laughed at Marcus who clung to you.

Marcus grinned and you adored his little missing front tooth. “She’s winning, Dad!” He giggled.

You shrugged, brushing off the fact that you were winning almost every arcade game you guys played.

“Nah, nah, “Rio shook his head. “Ain’t no way you beating me in laser tag.” He said proudly. You raised your eyebrows as a challenge.

“Oh, is this a bet?” You smirked. Rio glanced at your lips quickly, making a mental memo of how beautiful your smile was.

He was about to say something else until you realized how dark it was outside indicating it was late.

You looked at your watch. “I didn’t realize how late it was,” you said thinking of how much fun you had that you just lost track.

“Listen, it’s been super fun with you guys but I gotta get ready for my hot date tonight.” You said truthfully with a laugh.

Rio tried his best to hide his envy but you could see it until it quickly disappeared. You were upfront in the beginning and told him you were just casually dating so he couldn’t really take it to heart but Rio was persistent so you’d quickly learn he wasn’t letting go of what he wants that easy.

“But about that bet.” He gave you a sly smile. You crossed your arms. “Uh huh.” You said, waiting.

“Look, one last game. I’m sure the dude wouldn’t mind waiting a little longer for someone as beautiful as you,” He started and you felt your cheeks become warm.

“Dad, gross.” Marcus made a face which made you laugh.

Rio kissed his teeth towards him. “Take notes, pup. Anyway, you win laser tag, you go on that date. I win, you cancel and stay with me.” He smirked.

One of the reasons you liked him so much was how spontaneous he was. You loved the games. “It’s a bet.” You agreed, shaking on it.

Rio mentally laughed knowing he already had a leg up in this game. No one could aim better than him.

Once you three were in the darkened room, you helped Marcus with his vest first and Rio loved the sight of it. He only let few of his potential girlfriends around Marcus but something about you, he trusted. You were definitely passing the test.

You were glad that there weren’t any other people but you three. It gave you more room to both hide and to find them.

You hid in a corner out of sight but monitoring the light coming closer letting you know one of them was nearby. You felt like you were standing fast enough to shoot but as soon as you did, Rio already shot you.

“No way!” You huffed. You heard the mischief in his laugh until he disappeared quickly from view.

You always beat your friends in laser tag and you just couldn’t understand how he was so good. It’s like he knew where you’d be, where you’d go and he even got Marcus to do his dirty work. You mentally gave up at this point.

You looked around, not able to see any neon lights except for your own. You looked down briefly at your gun to see how much time was left. As soon as time was almost up, you heard the final shot at your vest and Rio press against the back of you.

He grasped your waist from behind and said lowly close to your ear, “Always watch your back.”

You held your breath, not knowing whether to be turned on or scared. It didn’t even matter because in a matter of seconds, he had you whipped.

You watched him proudly look up at the leaderboard after the game was over. “You need to borrow my phone to cancel?” He reminded you humorously.

You shook your head hiding your smile. You didn’t really want to go on that date anyway.

You carried your end of the bet, cancelling and staying longer with them until Marcus had a sugar crash and fell asleep in Rio’s arms. That was the queue that it was time to go unfortunately. You walked back to his car with him and watched him buckle him in. You were a sucker for men with children.

Rio left the car running as Marcus continued sleeping and you leaned against his car.

You watched him walk towards you, your eyes never breaking contact. You held your breath again as he towered over you. He was so intoxicating; the way he carried himself. You felt your hands lie flat against his chest, your eyes scanning the dark eagle tattoo that complimented his neck.

He lifted your chin to look at his eyes again. He glanced at your lips then your eyes again as if he was asking for permission and you nodded.

He brushed his lips over your lightly to tease you before finally pressing his lips against yours. He kissed you slowly as if he wanted to savor you but also with a sense of urgency. A kiss you knew would lock you in forever.

You pulled away first, looking away to not get lost in those dark eyes again.

“I should go.” You said, already missing the smell of his cologne.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, noticing something different. You sighed, knowing you were already going to tell him. You couldn’t help but to be honest and something about him made you want to spill everything.

“...I’m going to fall in love with you.” You told him.

[xxsycamore]

- KINKTOBER DAY 12 - Let me be your good boy! - [RIO/MC SMUT]

A/N: This is inspired by @mcdonaldsnumberone ​ and their eye-opening headcanon about Maid!Rio. I can’t thank you enough for making something that haunted me until I finally sat down to write more of it. I hope you find it to your liking! Also, the title is a reference to Bitchboy by The Oozes which maybe suits Rio a bit too well? 

Rating: E

Word count: 1,827

Relationship: F/M; Rio Ortiz/MC (Emma)

Tags:  Master/Pet; Master/Servant; Maid outfits; Maid Fetish; Maid!Rio; Femdom; Dom!Emma; Dom/Sub; Dominance; Masochism;  Verbal Humiliation; Reverse 69; Blow Jobs; Cunnilingus; Come Eating; Mirror Sex; Edgeplay; Spanking; Orgasm Denial; Light footplay; Dirty Talk

Check my masterlist here! You can also find all my works on AO3 under user xsycamore.  In my profile you can find my Ko-fi if you would like to support me!

Written for my Visions of Temptation Kinktober 2021 challenge. [DAY 1] [DAY 2] [DAY 3] [DAY 4] [DAY 5] [DAY 6] [DAY 7] [DAY 8] [DAY 9] [DAY 10] [DAY 11]

DAY 12 - Maid fetish + “I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now.”

Emma could say she's doing a pretty good job adapting to the palace life ever since taking on the role of Belle. The one thing she didn't see coming has to be the amount of time she is supposed to be spending daily taking care of her looks.

Thankfully, she has a butler just for that.

"What about this one, Master? Do you like it better than the carmine one? Bright colors suit you best! Oh, but the mature look is so good on you…"

Rio is a blessing. Even if it seems like he makes the job harder sometimes, Emma knows that it's all rooted in his desire for all to be flawless when it comes to her. She can deal with his excessive enthusiasm perfectly on any day.

Well, maybe not today. 

Tapping her fingers to her lips, Emma hums half of a reply, feigning attention as her eyes follow Rio's ministrations. Only, it's not really the diligently selected dresses she is looking at - it's the man holding them up for her.

Rio is dressed into something little different from his usual attendant uniform. The way he waltzed inside her chambers earlier was nothing but adorable for Emma, once she calmed down from the shock of course. Seeing Rio in a maid uniform isn't something she expected, even if the man put effort into making it come off as a normal thing. The adorable part about it all is mainly the fact how well he is masking his fervent anticipation for a reaction from his Master.

Emma is used to Rio stating his desires directly, unashamed of their nature. He'd ask for her hand in marriage the same way he'd ask to join her for a walk in the gardens. It's about the same when he asks to have sex with her, puppy eyes and everything. It's all painfully familiar to Emma. So, seeing him trying to restrain himself for the sake of professionalism is entertaining her a lot. If he is going to have fun putting on a performance for her, then she is going to have fun with it, too.

 They spend some more time in the walk-in wardrobe attached to Emma's room, discussing the outfit for the upcoming ball. Rio muses over the details as usual. The way he tells her to sit down as he delicately puts on different pairs of shoes on her feet is almost seeming to be an excuse to touch her more. Helping her even with the articles she can put on her own is all for the sake of that same thing.

Emma is quick to grow bored of playing dress-up, with the full-length mirror making it easy for her to distract herself with catching glimpses of Rio bending over to tend to her feet.

At some point, as he stands behind her holding up yet another dress over the forms of her body, their eyes meet in the reflection. Emma grasps Rio's hand, making him lower the hanger as she speaks out his name firmly.

"Rio."

"Yes Master?"

"Let's switch positions. Come in front of the mirror."

"Of course Master!"

Any order for Rio is strictly that, an order - instead of faltering in wonder, he'd rather just obey on the spot and see where it takes him. Even if finding himself in the spotlight is provoking some feelings of anticipation deep inside him. It's clear as day why he is in his current position - with Emma's eyes locked on his frame, the elephant in the room is most likely about to be addressed.

Standing right behind him, Emma easily slides her hands on the sides of Rio's waist, feeling him tense a little as they roam on his front, exploring his little outfit. The overly exposed décolletage of the black-and-white dress is doing a poor job of showing the decency that Rio tried to put in the outfit. So does the frilled skirt that only looks shorter on Rio's already relatively long legs, with the added length of a matching ankle-strap platforms. Not to mention the way his thin white gloves are emphasizing the nakedness of the rest of his arms.

At last, Rio can't hold his enthusiasm in anymore, smiling at his own reflection and wiggling his ass just a little to make the frills of his dress swirl demonstratively.

"Do you like it, Master?"

“I adore it. I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now.”

Rio's heart is about to burst out from happiness. He desperately wants to turn around and let his feelings run wild in any form at all, but he stays obediently on his place until commanded otherwise.

"Master!! Do you really love it that much? Does it turn you on that much?"

Rio follows Emma with wide eyes as she comes in front of him and beckons him to lower himself to the floor by pressing a hand on his shoulder. Rio complies, sitting back on his knees and waiting patiently for a reply.

Emma smiles at him, being a soft mistress at heart, despite at the same time casually nudging her foot between Rio's parted legs. The heel of the shiny brand-new shoe that Rio put on her leg himself just a while ago rubs perfectly on the tent formed in the skirt. Due to how short it is and Rio's position that makes it ride up further, it's easy for Emma to expose Rio's underwear just by a simple prod by her foot. She is pleased to find matching white lacy panties underneath that Rio might or might have not accidentally flashed her with, while bending down earlier.

Rio moans pathetically at the ministrations of her foot, albeit the pain of its wake, and for the lack of anything better to do with his hands, he holds onto his mistress's leg. Emma withdraws it seconds away from having it rutted against, and scolds Rio for being impatient.

"What a little whore you are, Rio! Good boys don't do that, I'm afraid…"

She puts her hands on her hips and stares down at Rio, feeling sadistic satisfaction to see his teary eyes and his hard-on as he runs out of patience to stay unoccupied, almost unaffected by the verbal humiliation whatsoever.

"Please give me an order, Master! I'm your good boy, I would do anything for you!! Let me show you how much I can do!"

Emma bites on her bottom lip, thinking just how far she wants to go with that hearty offer of his.

"First of all, take these off…"

She gestures with her foot to the lacy panties that disappear before her eyes seconds after the words are spoken.

"Now, I want you to please me with your mouth, Rio. I'm going to lay down and I want you to get on top of me, facing opposite. You got that?"

Rio nods thrice, losing no time in getting into the desired position as soon as his mistress lays her back on the plush rug underneath. Rio helps her strip down completely, stealing a sloppy kiss in the meanwhile that they both get a little lost into. As if she hasn't already been aware of her own arouse, Rio is quick to point it out with what she could only picture to be a dreamy gaze even if she can't see it.

"Master, you've made a mess! Let me clean that like the good little maid I am!"

That's right, her good little maid… Emma can't argue on this, not when she can feel Rio's tongue lively swiping about her folds. It's almost maddening to feel him lick with the task of simply collecting her juices instead of actually pleasuring her - it should earn him another scolding, at least, but Emma gives up on that when she feels him sucking apologetically on her clit.

Her previously closed in pleasure eyes open again to find the sight of Rio's pretty ass just begging for her to run her nails into. She's made the best choice to put him in this position, with his bottom hoovering just over her, as Rio held himself upright on his hands and knees. Reaching out her hand to grasp his neglected cock, Emma feels herself getting ever wetter under Rio's tongue as she struggles to take in the task of stroking him to full hardness.

Rio gasps, withdrawing his damp lips as he didn't expect such a reward so early in their playtime.

He dips his head back down with even more eagerness to please Emma as he wishes for this cycle of loving and being loved to last forever.

Rio hardly contains his moans as he senses the plush back wall of Emma's mouth against the tip of his cock. But letting everything out is good, because most of it all, he wants her to know how good she's making him feel.

"M-master, more, please! I want to cum!"

Emma lets her head fall back for another short break as she breaths out heavily, enjoying keeping Rio on the edge in the meantime. She admires the sight of him, his overly aching cock twitching just above her lips and dripping with precome. The rest of him is just as lovely, his frilly skirt hiked up on his waist as his legs in stockings tremble helplessly.

"I want you to look at yourself in the mirror while you cum. See for yourself how big of a slut you are. Would my good little maid do that?"

Rio moans just at the thought of it, followed by an enthusiastic and quick reply of "Yes, Master!" He gives his everything to keep doing his job of eating her out through it all, but once he feels Emma's mouth on him again, he abandons it completely. He hurries to comply with her request, feeling himself not being able to last much longer. When his blue eyes catch his reflection in the mirror, he knows it's over for him. He marvels on just how good it looks to be right where he belongs as a dirty little maid.

Watching his master suck him off in such suggestive position gets him off on the spot, as he comes hard into her mouth, feeling sharp pain as her nails sink into his ass, preventing him from bucking his hips down and accidentally choking her in the process. The additional pain of the ten digits only prolongs his orgasm as he shoots ropes after ropes of cum down her throat, moaning out pathetically his mistress's name over and over.

Just as he starts to calm down, panting heavily, a slap across his ass makes him arch his back again.

"Keep licking! And after you're done cleaning that mess, you're going to tend to the one you made of my mouth!"

Feeling himself get hard again, Rio's heart beats heavily against his chest as he giggly buries his head between her tights, eager to prove his worth.

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Katie's JATP Fic Recs

I have done a few fic rec lists in the past (you can find them here, here, and here, I need to make a master list at some point), but in light of Julie and the Phantoms being canceled, I wanted to highlight some of my favorite JATP fics. Below, and in no particular order, are the fics I keep coming back to and the ones I couldn’t wait to read as they were updated. You can find more under my Julie and the Phantoms fan fiction tag as well. You can also sign the petition to ask Netflix to renew JATP.

It’s Not Sunset Cis Either by WhatsYourNameMan (@wr0temyway0ut) (T, series on AO3, incomplete) If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ve definitely seen me talk about this series. I’ve basically decided this is canon now and Netflix can’t tell me otherwise. A truly wonderful AU in which Nick, Luke, Alex, and Reggie are trans men, Willie and Flynn are non-binary, and Julie is gender-fluid. One thing I really love about this series is Rio’s handling of Bobby/Trevor: acknowledging what he did (and giving a reason that's not “he’s a terrible person”), allowing the boys to forgive him, and making him a part of the family again. Bobby is depicted as just as valued and important to Sunset Curve as Alex, Luke, and Reggie, and Bobby and Alex have the sweetest friendship. I also love how Rio writes Willex, specifically Willie and his Caleb trauma. Some of these stories broke my heart (I’m looking at you, Spider Beetle Bee, The Vagabond, Boy on a String, and Dance Dance), but this is still my comfort series and I love it so much.

The Spotlight’s Your Hiding Place by @wr0temyway0ut (NR, SMAU on Tumblr, complete) Enemies-to-lovers modern AU. Nick, Willie, and Bobby are in JATP’s rival band. After discovering that Caleb Covington has been abusing Nick, Willie, and Bobby, JATP comes together to help their rivals escape Caleb’s control. I love all of Rio’s work, but this one is particularly good. I love a good SMAU, and Rio delivers. Full of drama and angst, but also the fluffy moments Rio does so well.

My Safest Place to Hide by @willexxmercer (NR, SMAU on Tumblr, complete) A Willex modern everybody lives/nobody dies AU. When Alex gets sick on their honeymoon, Willie must put his worries about Caleb and the gossip columns aside to take care of him. With Caleb threatening to make Willie’s life worse, Willie learns to lean on his husband and friends and accept their help for once. That was a terrible summary, but I truly love this SMAU. Lots of sweet Willex moments and hating Caleb Covington moments. I also love Kit’s OCs.

Lie a Little Better by @willexxmercer (NR, SMAU on Tumblr, complete) I know…another SMAU. I just love them so much, okay? A Willex modern everybody lives/nobody dies AU. Alex needs a getaway from the hectic Hollywood life, so he goes to a resort in Canada. While there, he falls for Willie Covington, nephew of Caleb Covington, the one person Julie and the Phantoms swore to stay away from. When Caleb finds out about Alex and Willie, well, you can imagine what happens. I love this SMAU because it’s sweet but also suspenseful and keeps you wanting more. Kit is masterful at the cliffhanger and making you really, really hate Caleb Covington. Know That It’s Probably Magic by thessalonike (starblessed) (@julies-butterflies) (T, one-shot on AO3, complete) “A study in grief, loneliness, and the nature of haunting.” Julie thought Alex, Luke, and Reggie were haunting her house, but Flynn might be onto something when she says the boys are haunting Julie. This realization brings Julie’s world crashing down. They can’t be haunting her, right? This fic is beautiful and deep and perfectly written to be emotional without being over the top. There are amazing Double Trouble moments, and Flynn especially is very well-written.

Gave Me No Compasses, Gave Me No Signs by weneedglitter (@weneedglitter) (G, one-shot on AO3, complete) After the Orpheum, Julie discovers her powers go beyond magic hugs, and the bond she has with Alex, Reggie, and Luke is stronger than she thought. This is pretty similar to Know That It’s Probably Magic (it was inspired by that fic), but the premise is just different enough to make it special. I really loved Morgan’s take on the Orpheum and how Julie was able to pull the boys to her.

Heaven Has Got Nothing On Us by fairylightsandrainydays (@fairylightsandrainydays) (T, one-shot on AO3, complete) This is a fascinating take on the relationship between Willie and Caleb Covington. After he dies, Willie realizes he can’t see color. He joins the Hollywood Ghost Club with the promise of getting color back, but soon realizes it’s not at all what he thought it would be. Rainy gives a very interesting take on how and why Willie joined the Hollywood Ghost Club.

I’d Fall Anywhere With You by novaquill (NR, multi-chapter on AO3, complete) Everyone has a soulmate, except for Alex…or at least that’s what he thinks. After the incident with the hot dogs, the boys of Sunset Curve learn that soulmates can be found in unexpected places. I love a good soulmate AU, and this did not disappoint. I loved this fic because it explores the boys of Sunset Curve’s friendship and how best friends can be your soulmates.

Raw Nerves Can’t Kill Me (But God Do They Want To) by HearJessRoar (@hearjessroar) (G, one-shot on AO3) Julie has a bad day, and it’s up to Flynn and the boys to cheer her up. I love Jess’s portrayal of the friendship between Julie and the boys, it’s so sweet and the boys just want to help.

Are You for Me or Against Me (Hold Yourself Against Me) by siriuslyrose (@siriuslyrose) (G, one-shot on AO3, complete) Modern everybody lives/nobody dies AU in which Caleb adopted Willie. Five times Alex thought Caleb hated him, and one time he was proven wrong. I love Mel’s writing, and this does not disappoint. Mel does a great job of integrating Carrie and Bobby into the group and creating the character of good dad Caleb. Also I love Willie’s dog.

How Long Till My Soul Gets It Right by partyghost (Arokel) (G, one-shot on AO3, complete) This is probably my very favorite Willie fic ever. Astronomer!Willie owns my soul. This story gave me Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe vibes (that’s a complement, I love that book). A great insight into Willie’s character and potential backstory.

Give Me Something to Hold On To by sunsetcurbed (@sunsetcurbed) (T, multi-chapter on AO3, complete) Modern everybody lives/nobody dies AU. As Kay puts it, “Alex and Willie meet young, fall in love young, and fall apart young. But some things have a way of making sure they’re meant to be in the end.” I was hesitant on this one at first, because I don’t usually go for friends to lovers to exes back to lovers stories, but Kay’s writing won me over. This story is so well thought-out and beautifully written, and Kay captures the emotions of a break-up perfectly. I think I cried when I read this. As you might expect, it is a sad story, but I promise the end is happy.

Far Away From Hurt Is Where Healing Occurs by chickwiththepurpleguitar (@chickwiththepurpleguitar) (G, one-shot on AO3, complete) After the Orpheum, Julie has to explain to Ray that there are three sort-of-ghosts living in their studio. Luckily, Ray is the best dad ever, but when caring for the boys means forgiving Bobby/Trevor Wilson, Ray finds it a little harder than he expected. Sometimes time really does heal all wounds. I love how Lilly explores the relationship between Bobby/Trevor, Ray, and Rose, as well as the relationships between Luke, Alex, and Reggie and their parents.

First Things First by Irratia (@on-irratia) (NR, one-shot on AO3, complete) Modern everybody lives/nobody dies AU. Three firsts in Alex and Willie’s relationship: meeting the parents, sharing clothes, and sharing a bed. This is a really sweet story and the rest of the series is really good as well. You don’t need to read the first two parts to understand this one.