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leonslutkennedeeznuts · 1 year ago

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The Wedding Date | Leon x Fem!Reader

"From the first meeting to rehearsal dinner everyone had fallen in love with him. Including you." | One-shot inspired by The Wedding Date (2005): Leon's an escort. You hire him and fall in love. (AO3)

It was an expensive, totally stupid impulsive thing to do- book a male escort as your wedding date to stick it to your ex (and nagging mother) that you weren’t a lonely, miserable spinster. You weren’t ugly or anything, just lazy with a specific plan- to rub it in your ex fiance’s face that you were 100% over him and moving on by “dating” someone way more attractive and totally smitten with you.

His name was Scott, or so he said as per his website details. He was 6 '0, clearly worked out, had dirty blonde hair in a boyband haircut and per his many reviews was a skilled lover- but that part was totally irrelevant to you. It had taken a few days to finally bite the bullet. Your career was stable, you had the money- it just made sense to go this route versus swiping on Tinder. You’d never done this before but were admittedly desperate. You needed a professional, someone that nobody in your friend group knew who could lie his way in and out of any conversations and questions they’d be sure to ask him.

He just had to look good, pretend to be in love with you, get paid and then fuck off never to be seen again when the wedding was over.

—

You’d met up with him at a bougie brunch spot on a Sunday afternoon, having chugged one mimosa with a shot of vodka before he even showed up to ease your nerves.

“This is the weirdest outcall I’ve ever been to,” he’d joked after introducing himself to you, his hands so soft and his cologne making you wet. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Scott was funny, naturally charismatic and beautiful to look at. He clearly took care of himself and didn’t seem phased by your plan at all once revealed to him.

“Alright, we need to go over the questions they’ll ask you, about us, your life, yadda yadda,” you’d instructed him. You tried your best to be assertive and not give into the butterflies flying wildly inside your stomach. “This has to be very convincing.”

You had tried to rehearse his answers with him but Scott refused while gazing at you intently. You’d definitely need new panties after this but he didn’t need to know that.

Scott had said he’d prefer to see how everything worked out before accepting payment. This plot of yours amused him greatly, he had said as much several times. Nobody had ever hired him to be arm candy until you. He planned to enjoy every second of this.

“They’ll know I’m lying, sweetheart. It’s better to just wing it. Trust me, Y/N, I won’t let you down.”

And Scott didn’t let you down. He’d passed the “test” with flying colors. From the first meeting to rehearsal dinner everyone had fallen in love with him. Including you.

—

It was late one night after having to help with decorating the church and you just wanted to relax. One bottle of wine later and you were getting a little bold and very nosy about Scott’s personal life as he gave you an exquisite foot rub.

“I didn’t make it into the police academy. I was 21 years old in a new city with nowhere to go so I started stripping. Then stripping became this.”

You gave him a reassuring smile, your hand patting his shoulder while the other held a glass of sweet burgundy wine. Scott had chosen whiskey for himself. Wine gave him bad hangovers, he’d admitted.

“I thought about being a stripper once,” you revealed. “I almost auditioned actually but my dancing is terrible without heels so with them on I’m sure I’d break my ankles.”

Scott laughed, as if he’d imagined you in a pair of clear heels attempting to dance around a pole and failing miserably. Making him laugh made you feel warm all over.

Conversations with him came naturally, he felt like an old friend. It was none of your business, truly but he’d answered you unashamedly. A part of you wished you’d met him under different circumstances for a chance at something real.

“Why aren’t you married yet, Y/N?”

You definitely weren’t expecting him to ask that. Your previous relationship was still a sore subject- he’d been your highschool sweetheart and first love. With a job promotion and more money, your ex had wanted to date around and see what else was out there a few months after proposing.

“One day he just decided that he didn’t want me anymore,” came your solemn answer.

You took a big gulp of wine to keep from crying. This was the guy that you thought you’d be planning your wedding with at this age. Instead you hired a male escort that you developed feelings for. C’est la vie!

“What a fucking idiot, seriously. You’re beautiful, Y/N, inside and out. A total catch,” Scott asserted. “Dude is a loser for letting you go.”

That remark made you smile, bringing a feeling of peace that washed over you from within at his words. You really enjoyed being around Scott. He was damn good at what he did: making women feel desired. Even though this was his job, it just felt natural to lean in and kiss him so you did. To your surprise Scott kissed you back quite fiercely, the taste of whiskey on his tongue almost like a poison bringing you deeper under his spell.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” he’d offered.

Scott was indeed a skilled lover.

He lifted you up effortlessly, laying you on the bed before teasing with kisses up and down your body. You were so wet it hurt and ached. Your clothes quickly became a crumpled up heap on the floor while he stayed fully clothed sans a shirt.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby.”

He never stopped touching or tasting you that night, making sure that you came hard on his face and with his fingers, refusing to let you return the favor. You rode his tongue to completion, let him flip you onto your back and bucked into his mouth almost crying at how good he made you feel.

“You taste so good, Y/N.”

Your ex had been selfish in bed, all about receiving and barely giving. You thought you’d had an orgasm before but now you knew better. Scott made you cum almost violently, begging, writhing and almost screaming every time he sucked your clit or filled you up with two or three fingers.

“Can eat you out all fucking night.”

You had to push his head away before he finally stopped, looking so pleased with his work as you watched him through heavily lidded eyes. He kissed you one last time, the taste of yourself on his tongue giving a sense of pride. This gorgeous man had dined on you like he’d never get enough, licking and eating your cum like it was a delicacy. You wanted to taste him too, to look into his eyes as he slid into you and fucked you so deep and hard that your headboard banged against the wall.

But instead, he cuddled you until sleep finally took over.

—

Scott wasn’t there when you awoke the next morning.

You awoke in a panic, your head pounding as the events of last night started to replay in your head. Wine. Scott. Orgasms. Your thighs were sore.

“Shit,” you exclaimed. The wedding. Your wedding date. Scott. Was he going to show up now? Would it be too awkward? Was it all just a wine induced episode of lucid dreaming?

You hurriedly got out of bed and took a shower. The envelope with his payment was still in your dresser. Did he even know it was there? You tried to focus on everything but Scott on your drive to the venue, going through the motions of getting dressed and sitting still for makeup.

When it was time to walk down the aisle with your ex-fiance as part of the wedding processional, your eyes glanced around nervously looking for any signs of a GQ model with dirty blond hair sitting in the pews as you tried not to fumble with your bouquet too much.

This was the church you had always wanted to be married in. You had thought that your ex fiance was the one but now you knew otherwise. Walking down the aisle with him, even in this context, made you feel uneasy like you were cheating. You almost didn't see Scott giving you a thumbs up and blowing you a kiss when you finally stood with the other bridesmaids. It was embarrassing how your mood instantly lifted.

Everything was going to be okay. You'd convinced everyone that this was so real, you'd even convinced yourself. Once the wedding was over Scott would go back to his life and so would you. It was a painful thought.

It wasn’t until the wedding reception that you spotted him again. He was standing off to himself while most of the single ladies and a few men crowded the dance floor for the bouquet toss. His tuxedo fit perfectly and now that you knew how he looked shirtless, a part of you wanted to rip it right off.

You caught the bouquet purely by accident, not even paying attention until a blur of pink roses came into your peripheral. Scott’s eyes never left yours as he walked towards you, cool as a cucumber like on the day you met.

He leaned in to kiss you so intensely that your knees buckled. You heard your mom cheering the loudest. Your ex stormed off in a huff, clearly regretting his choice to let you go- convinced that this man kissing you was your new forever and not a paid actor. Scott had done his job perfectly, too perfectly. You tried not to look so crestfallen when the kiss ended.

—

The walk back to your car seemed to take forever, so much you wanted to say, so much was going unsaid but didn’t want to come across as that one creepy client who took things too far.

“Definitely a 5 star experience,” you stated honestly yet awkwardly avoiding his gaze, wanting to make light of it all. “I really can’t thank you enough Sco-”

“Leon,” he cut you off. “My real name is Leon.”

The tension in the air was thick. Was his name really Leon or was this another part of the act? Your mother was now convinced that Scott, well, Leon would propose someday. How were you going to explain that everything was all a lie?

Should you address the kiss, the amazing oral sex and show vulnerability? Or hand over the cash and move on? You just wanted a nice clean break, no more emotions to overly complicate things. He did his job, nothing more nothing less. It would hurt more to be rejected than to wonder what if.

“I can’t thank you enough, Leon.” You looked a little too long at his lips, wanting and wishing you had the courage to just lean in and close the gap between you two again and again.

Instead, you handed him the bouquet of flowers so you could reach into your clutch for his payment.

“You can count it now if you’d like. It’s all there, I promise.”

Leon tensed. His face which usually sported a knowing smirk or stoic expression now looked confused, almost disgusted. He didn’t reach out to take the envelope.

“Leon, you did exactly what I asked you for. Of course I’m paying you plus tip,” you said trying to sound calm yet internally freaking out. “Thank you for this.”

Thank you for eating me out so well that no other man will ever compare, you thought.

You were ready to drive home and cry into your pillows about what a mess you’d made- falling in love with your hired boyfriend who probably always had clients obsessed with him and unable to distinguish reality from fantasy.

“I don’t want your money, Y/N. I want you.” Leon took your envelope with his free hand and placed it back into your clutch. “God, that was cornier than it sounded in my head.”

Your mouth opened but nothing came out.

Confusion painted your face. Realization hit you afterwards but before you could think of what to say in response, his lips were on yours. The bouquet was forgotten on the ground as you let Leon take you into his arms, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

“Y/N, this has been real for me no matter how hard I tried to fight it. I love you.”

You felt like you were floating, the world beyond Leon in this moment failing to exist.

"I love you, too. So much," you proclaimed proudly.

Leon slowly pulled away from you, his eyes taking you in. “I don’t do this, I don’t date or get too close but you, you’ve awakened something inside of me that I can’t live without.”

His hands gripped your ass and you felt the promise of more, thick hard and straining against his slacks. “And you have the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” he quipped.

With a laugh you gave his bulge a light squeeze, ready to finally consummate your relationship with the gorgeous man standing before you.

---

With each deep, slow, tortutous thrust you were crying out his name, his real name, over and over. Pathetically begging and pleading for Leon to fuck you harder. You'd never felt like this before, your body on fire with lust and greedy for more, more, more.

"Look at you, taking me so well like this," he whispered into your ear as you tightened and throbbed around his length. "Love you so much, so fucking much."

You were sucking him in to the hilt, nails digging into his back and biceps as you took every inch coating it in your slick.

"Fuck, Leon, love you too," you grunted out almost painfully. "Gonna cum, oh!"

Leon loosened the grip on your throat, kissing you lazily as you cried out his name cumming hard around him while he never stopped pounding into your tight, hungry cunt.

"There you go, baby, cum all over me." He ground his pelvis into you wanting to feel all your cum gushing out against him. "Wanna cum inside you, fuck!"

It was almost a whisper but you'd heard it and God, you wanted him to. Wanted him to fill you up so deeply that you'd feel it slipping out throughout the day.

"Yes, please cum inside, need it, Leon."

He looked into your glazed over eyes smirking at your blissful face knowing only he could make you feel this good, only he had taken the time to learn your body and make you cum with your whole body shaking and jerking against his.

With a few more hard, short thrusts Leon's hot cum started to fill you up. You instinctly wrapped your legs around his waist pushing him in even deeper, his balls throbbing against you as he emptied himself into your eager pussy.

"Mmm, are you ready for round three," he inquired against your sweated out hair.

He took you from behind, from the side, with you on top and even picked you up and fucked you hard and fast in his arms as you cried out your release.

The man's stamina was unmatched. You were a sweaty tangled mess of limbs not knowing where his body began and your body ended when he was finally done with you.

---

You quickly settled into domestic life quite easily. Leon moved in with you while mulling over his career options now that being a boyfriend for hire was over.

Leon had made you dinner to celebrate your recent promotion, your favorite meal of filet mignon and lobster tail. He'd mentioned in passing that he was letting the website domain expire soon to pursue his other dream: being a scuba diving instructor.

"Scott's Scuba School sounds good, right?"

You nodded, considering how often he went down on you without needing to come up for air. Yeah, he'd be an amazing scuba diver. Although using his previous alias gave you some pause. What if one of his past lovers recognized him and wanted more? Silly little insecure thoughts like that were becoming less usual as time went on.

If you'd thought Leon was an amazing hired boyfriend, he was even better without the promise of money. He refused to let you pay for anything or want for nothing. From having roses delivered to your office to cooking you dinner, planning out romantic date nights to making love to you until you begged him to stop. He was perfect and he was all yours.

"Best wedding date ever," Leon read aloud to himself, seeing the new notification popping up on his previous work phone. "So good you'll think he's really in love with you."

He shot you a knowing glance before giving you a slow lingering kiss. With the simple tap, his website and review page were deleted and his new, real life with you could truly begin.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #leon x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fic #resident evil smut #sex worker Leon #graphic design is my passion #leon x female reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x fem!reader

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openheartfanfics · 26 days ago

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Newly Added Fics

Oct 26 - Nov 1, 2024

Ethan x F!MC

Halloween Lights - @jamespotterthefirst ☁👻Ⓜ Going to questionable lengths to decorate their house/apartment (for Halloween)

Mad About Matching - @cariantha ☁👻 Ethan won't wear matching costumes for Halloween except for one person. [Domestic; Family]

New Rooms - @potionsprefect ☁ Luke and Lily get their rooms decorated. [Domestic; Family]

Trick or Treat - @liaromancewriter ☁👻 Who says Halloween traditions are only for children?

Ethan x Tobias

The Proposition - @jerzwriter ☁ Tobias & Ethan remain behind at the bar after a retirement party ends, and Tobias has some news to share. [Platonic]

Rafael x F!MC

First dates are worth the wait - @rafasgirl23415 📷 Casey & Raf have their real first date when Raf takes Casey for lunch.

Love In Every Heartbeat - @rafasgirl23415 📚 [extended: wip] Go right to the start of Casey & Raf’s relationship. Casey is cautious about falling too fast too soon.

CH 1: Fancy Seeing You Here

CH 2: First Date Butterflies

Our Miracle Baby - @rafasgirl23415 📚 [extended: complete] TW: Discussion of and scenes of miscarriage in flashback scenes of domestic violence.

Part 20

Part 21

Welcome to the World - @rafasgirl23415 📷 Casey & Raf announce the birth of their daughter Sienna Rose.

Rafael x M!MC

Home is Where You Are - @silver-rings-and-rabbits 🛸 This is an alternate universe where Rafael made it to Brazil and the attack never happened.

Sienna x M!OC

Counter Proposal - @liaromancewriter 📱 Sienna practices the fine art of negotiation.

Tobias x F!MC

A Little Obsessed - @jerzwriter ☁👻 Casey can become a little obsessed when she wants something to be just right. But will another obsession thwart her plans?

Edenbrook Mysteries: Secret Admirer - @jerzwriter ☁ Casey's got a secret admirer, and Tobias is determined to find out who it is.

Peter, Peter - @jerzwriter ☁ Tobias & Casey are off to the pumpkin patch, aka Casey's favorite day of the year!

Treat for Two - @alj4890 ☁👻 Halloween is a perfect time for Tobias and a few others to bring up the fact Chris looks eerily like Karen Gillian.

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

#open heart #playchoices #choices open heart #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #ethan ramsey #rafael aveiro #sienna trinh #tobias carrick #ethan ramsey x mc #rafael aveiro x mc #sienna trinh x oc #tobias carrick x mc #newly added fics

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anachronismstellar · 3 months ago

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Wip Wednesday - 21/08

Heeeello people!

What's this?? Me posting before next Wednesday?? A miracle for sure lol

Here are my sentences for Waltz for the Dead!

Tagging: @zyrafowe-sny @aparticularbandit @post-and-out @eriquin @somefishycat @enigma-the-mysterious @kalira @whimsicalmeerkat @wizisbored

Thank you so much for all the tags and love you guys are giving this fic gnsbakfnsk ;u;♡ I still don't know where I'm going with it but I'm having a hell lot of fun lol

Sentences under the cut!

He could start to see why Lan Sizhui said he had bitten more than he could chew.

-----------

“I hope you enjoy your stay, Lan-gongzi,” Nie-zongzhu said with a shallow bow, but a bow anyway, making all hairs in Jingyi's neck stand up.

One thing was an encounter at a small inn in Cayin City, another thing together was to walk around into the lion’s den, guided by the lion himself, as Nie-zongzhu softly pointed the directions for the mail hall and the gardens with a carp pond.

“No bunnies, I'm afraid, there's too many hawks flying around, it wouldn't be wise to raise them,” Nie-zongzhu said as a thrown away comment, half of his face hidden behind his fan.

Was it a threat? It kinda felt like a threat. Should he send a butterfly to Hanguang-Jun? Maybe. Maybe he should send one to Sizhui. He was going to send one anyway to tell him he arrived well. Too bad it would be followed by him telling he was going to die.

“And here we are.” Nie-zongzhu stopped in front of his rooms, the wing decorated with soft whites and blues. Lan Jingyi looked around, unable to not feel impressed by Nie-zongzhu decoration abilities, when he started to notice that most of them were picked with one particular Lan in mind. His suspicions were confirmed as soon as he opened the door, the room a shocking mirror to Hanshi, down to the furniture.

“I believe it is up to the Lan Sect rules. It hasn't been touched for many years.” Nie-zongzhu fanned his face at a leisurely pace, not even glancing inside the room. “If Lan-gongzi has any requests, he shouldn't hesitate to ask.”

Lan Jingyi swallowed hard, not daring to enter the room. Outside, wind howled at the mountain, bringing in a chill to freeze his bones, but even so he could feel his Lan ribbon dampening with sweat.

He couldn't accept Zewu-Jun's old rooms!

“Nie-zongzhu is most kind.” He fumbled as he took a step back to properly bow to the other. “However, I couldn't accept such an offer. These are the rooms proper of a Sect Leader, I-”

“Are you not the heir of the Lan Clan?” Nie-zongzhu interrupted him while Jingyi tried to find words to get himself out of this diplomatic disaster. If he weren't so anxious he would be furious at Nie-zongzhu for putting him in this situation. “Therefore, as the representative of the Lan during this conference, the rooms are yours.”

“But- What if Hanguang-Jun-”

“Hanguang-Jun and Wei-gongzi are going to be allocated to a more private part of the palace when they arrive.” Nie-zongzhu didn't explicitly say why, but Lan Jingyi and any poor soul that ever adventured around Jingshi late at night was aware of the couple's… Behavior. Their shamelessness was the worst kept Lan secret, but to have a Sect Leader addressing it so openly was… Uncomfortable.

“Either way-” Nie-zongzhu kept talking, pretending not to see Jingyi fidgeting. “These rooms were built to accommodate the Lan representative, and you're more than welcome to use them. The choice is yours, but if you feel inclined to change rooms, just send word to Nie Yuan, he is the one responsible for accommodations.”

Why, though? Jingyi couldn’t help but fret, holding back his wish to shake Nie-zongzhu by the shoulders and scream. Why are you being so deferential towards me?! Of all people, why me?!

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

That's it folks! See you next Wednesday! :D

#writing #my writing #wip wednesday #wip wednesday game #fanfiction #my writing: Waltz for the Dead #The Untamed #CQL #Mo Dao Zu Shi #MDZS #Nie Huaisang #NHS #NHS pos canon

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 1 year ago

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Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 9: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (2/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 2545

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Notes: This story was originally written in 2014.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

“Looks like your boyfriend learned about Christmas,” David said dryly as he pushed open the sheriff’s station door.

Emma elbowed her way past her father to have a look and then barked out a laugh. A veritable forest of mistletoe hung above her desk and chair. David was right; it couldn’t be the work of anyone but her adorable idiot of a pirate.

“Although if he really wanted to get you to kiss him,” David continued, draping his winter coat over the back of his own chair, “he would have hung it inside one of the jail cells. We left the station locked when we went on rounds, so I’m pretty sure this qualifies as breaking and entering.”

Emma grinned. “Cut him some slack, Dad. There are far, far worse things he could have done, don’t you think?”

“That depends,” David replied with a frown.

“Yeah? On what?”

“Whether or not he makes use of the mistletoe when I’m around.”

Emma laughed again, still amazed at the happiness that was her life at the moment. Seriously, who would have thought that Emma Swan, the unloved, unwanted orphan would one day have to deal with an overzealous pirate boyfriend and an overprotective father?

“I’ll make him behave,” Emma promised. “At least while you’re around.”

David grimaced. “You had to tack on that last part?”

“Yep,” Emma replied, taking a seat. “Deal with it Dad; your little girl’s dating a pirate. Bound to be some…um…misbehavior. Probably on both our parts.”

David groaned.

Her dad put up a good show, but Emma knew that’s all it was—a show. The bromance was strong with these two. Emma didn’t know who was happier that her relationship with Killian was still going strong, her or her dad.

A month had passed since Gold’s sorcerer’s hat stunt, and they were all still reeling from it to various extents. She’d had nightmares about it every night for a solid two weeks following the incident. Nightmares where they didn’t make it in time. Nightmares where she, her mom and Belle arrived at the clock tower a moment after Gold had finished crushing Killian’s heart into a fine powder. She’d woken up shaking and bathed in sweat.

If Gold had succeeded…she couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence. The very thought scared her more than anything in her life had ever scared her.

It was in that moment when she was frozen in place, helpless to protect Killian, that she gave up the last bit of pretense. She loved him; there was no denying it. Just the sight of him was enough to make the butterflies start tap dancing in her stomach.

“What do you think of my first attempt at decorating for the season?”

Speak of the devil.

Killian strode in with the confidence (and looks) of a fashion model. He leaned down, brushed a kiss against her cheek and then straightened with the grin she’d come to learn meant trouble.

“Not bad,” she said, “but you know people usually just hang one sprig of mistletoe, not a whole garden.”

He tsked, and frowned at her playfully. “And where would be the fun in that? I’d prefer to increase my chances of finding myself under it with a fetching lass rather than limit them.”

He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. “Speaking of which, it appears you and I are currently standing beneath a particularly hearty specimen. Holiday traditions must be observed, darling. Good form and all.”

She grinned and looped her arms around his neck. “So what are you waiting for?”

His smile turned distinctly wicked. “Not a thing in the world, love.”

A wildfire raged between them at the first touch of his lips to hers. It was always like this between them; like someone had tossed a lit match on a mountain of dry kindling. Emma tilted her head, instantly deepening the kiss, reveling in the feel of his hand in her hair anchoring her to him, his hook at her back urging her closer.

David cleared his throat. Loudly. Whatever adjectives could be used to describe her father, “subtle” was not one of them. Emma pulled away with an apologetic look at her boyfriend, then turned to face her dad. Killian reached down and laced his fingers with hers.

“You guys mind?” David asked with a hint of exasperation. “This is a place of business after all.”

“Funny,” Killian said with a smirk, “you seemed to be singing an entirely different tune that night last week when I walked in to find you and your lovely wife similarly expressing your affection.”

David spluttered. “That’s…that’s different!”

“Aye? How so?”

“It’s different because…because…well, because it just is.”

Killian laughed with such good humor that soon even David joined in. “Look,” her father finally said, “I’m glad you two are happy together, I really am, but could you keep the PDA to a minimum while I’m around? Please?”

Killian sketched a bow. “I shall endeavor to control myself, but confronted with your daughter’s ravishing beauty, I am, more often than not, unable to express my admiration any other way.”

Emma laughed and swatted him playfully. “You are so full of it.”

“Aye,” he returned with a flirtatious wink, “but I noticed you failed to put up a protest at my ‘PDA’ a moment ago.”

“I’ll admit,” she returned, placing her free hand over his heart, a gesture she found herself making more and more frequently since his ordeal with Gold, “kissing you is kind of addicting. So, what’s up? We weren’t supposed to meet for lunch for another hour or so.”

“I’ve come to steal you away, love,” He said, giving her hand a squeeze. “The snow has bathed the woods in a blanket of loveliness, and I wish to share it with my favorite lass.”

“I can’t just go take a stroll in the woods,” Emma said. “For one thing, it’s cold. For another, I’ve got work to do. And did I mention, it’s cold?”

The look on his face was two parts puppy and one part wicked. “If we don’t go, I’ll be forced to hang around and, no doubt, nauseate your father. We wouldn’t want that, now would we? Besides, I’m…more than capable of keeping you warm.”

“Ugh,” David said. “Emma just go with him. I’ll cover for you.”

“Well,” Emma said, grabbing her coat and hat, “if you both insist…”

“We do,” David and Killian said in unison.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Emma had to admit it was beautiful and peaceful out here. And with Killian’s arm draped around her, surprisingly warm as well. On impulse, she reached up and pecked him on the cheek.

“And what was that delightful gesture for, Swan?”

She shrugged. “No reason. Just…thank you. You were right. It’s nice to get away from the craziness of the town for a while.”

He smiled, making the crow’s feet stand at attention at the edges of his eyes. “Darling, when are you going to finally realize that I’m always right?”

Emma rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the grin from her face. “Don’t hold your breath, pirate.”

“Thought as much,” Killian muttered under his breath.

Emma had never been a big fan of winter. She hated the cold, and the snow drove her crazy—especially now that she was the sheriff and was called to every fender bender and slide-off in the whole damn town. Killian, however, seemed to have an entirely different opinion on the matter. His face was lit up with the wonder and awe of a child as he trudged through the ankle-deep snow and watched the flurries continue to drift down.

“You seem to be enjoying this weather,” she observed, reaching up to feather her fingers through his hair and dislodge the stubborn snowflakes that had evidently decided to take up residence there.

“Aye,” he said, looking down at her with a delighted grin. “Always reminds me of a day I spent with Liam many, many years ago.”

Emma perked up at the mention of Killian’s brother. “You never talk about him. I always assumed the memories were too painful for you.”

Killian smiled tenderly. “Aye, some memories are. It seems no matter how many centuries go by, the sting of his passing will never truly fade. I do, however, have many, many pleasant memories of him, and the day we spent in the snow is certainly one of those.”

“Would you tell me about it?”

“Of course,” he complied without hesitation. “It was one of the last good memories I had of my family. My mum died the following year, and my father was never the same after her passing. At any rate, I was but a wee lad at the time, five, maybe six years old. Liam was a good ten years my senior and I nearly worshiped him. He’d just informed me that he would be leaving in less than a fortnight upon his first ship; I no longer recall her name. He was to be a cabin boy and I’ve rarely seen a lad so excited. I was, of course, devastated that my brother, my hero, would be leaving me in a matter of days.”

“I can only imagine,” Emma soothed. Killian felt things so deeply; his entire heart and soul were invested when he loved. Liam’s departure must have hit him hard.

“Aye,” he said with a grimace. “Anyway, on the day in question, Liam woke me, excited about the newly fallen snow. We two spent the entire day reveling in it—making snowmen and snow fortifications. Engaging in a rather ruthless snowball fight. It was a day I wouldn’t trade for all the rum in the Enchanted Forest.”

“It sounds great.”

“Aye, that it was.”

They lapsed into silence for a time. Emma rested her head against his shoulder, and she felt him brush a kiss against the crown of her head.

“So how was your breakfast with Henry?” Emma asked.

“Informative,” Killian said, and Emma could hear the smile in his voice. “The lad is a wealth of information. He seems quite excited for this Christmas holiday.”

Emma sighed. “Yeah. Seems like it’s all he can talk about.”

Killian looked over at her. “From your tone, I take it you don’t share his sentiments?”

“No.” The word was definitive, emphatic.

“The lad told me as much,” Killian admitted. “He was concerned that you seem unwilling to participate in this realm’s Christmas traditions.”

Emma grimaced. “I was hoping it would be enough for him to get all the Christmas crap at Regina’s or my mom and dad’s.”

Killian stopped walking and turned her toward him. “The lad didn’t come to me because he needs more Christmas; he came to me because he’s worried about you.”

Henry was worried about her? Because of Christmas? “He doesn’t need to be. I’m fine.”

Killian looked at her skeptically. “Swan, I’ve seen you ‘fine’. I’ve seen you happy. I’ve seen you content. You are feeling none of those emotions. This ‘Christmas’ is obviously a source of pain for you. Please, tell me why that is.”

Emma sighed. There really was no point trying to hide anything from this man. “It’s just…I don’t know. Christmas is all about family and happiness and being together and stuff.”

“And these are bad things?” At some point, Killian brought his good hand up to cup her face, and he was gently caressing her cheek with his thumb.

“No…” Emma drew out the syllable. “Not in general, but for an unwanted little girl in the group homes it was torture. I mean, everywhere you turned you’d get assaulted with images of happy little families doing happy little family things. Every time you turned on the TV you’d see commercials and movies and everything else where everyone was perfectly happy and enjoying each other’s company. The songs talk about it being the happiest time of the year, or about how people love going home for the holidays or the love of family. You know what it was for me? It was a slap in the face. It was yet another reminder that I’d never had that and probably never would.”

The compassion in Killian’s eyes nearly broke her. He dropped his hand from her face and gathered her into his arms, holding her tight. She clung to him, drinking in the love he offered her.

“Emma,” he whispered., “there are so many, many people who love you. So many, many people who would do anything to make you happy.”

The tears rushed to her eyes. “I know, and it means everything in the world to me. It’s just—I don’t know. Childhood memories die hard. I don’t know if I can even do all the ‘happy family Christmas’ stuff.”

“But you said it yourself, love,” Killian reasoned, stroking her hair. “Christmas isn’t about perfectly fulfilling the traditions you’re accustomed to. It’s not about living up to the standards you believe the ‘perfect’ families attained. It’s not about fulfilling a checklist of Christmas items. It’s about being with the ones you love; showing them how much you care.”

Killian pulled away. “Let us love you,” he said simply. “Let us show you how much you mean to all of us. Let us build our own traditions, our own memories. Perhaps they won’t erase the pain of the past, but trust me love, the good memories, the beautiful moments—they shine as brightly as the star Leroy attempted to force me to place on the top of Granny’s tree—if you but let them. They are like the sun that blots out the light of the stars. Losing Liam to dreamshade—it was one of the darkest days of my life. The pain of losing my brother, the man who was captain and brother and hero to me, was such that words cannot describe. Even so, traumatic as that day was, it cannot hold a candle to the simple joy of that day spent playing in the snow. ”

“I wish I’d met Liam,” Emma said with a wistful smile.

“As do I love,” Killian said. “He would have liked you—and would have thanked his lucky stars that I’d finally found myself a beautiful blonde savior to point me back to the man I wish to be.”

Emma stroked his face. “He’d be proud of you, Killian. You’re a good man; one of the best and most honorable I know.”

Killian turned his head and brushed a kiss against her palm. “You can have no idea how sweet those words sound coming from your lips. I have but one bit of advice for you, love: don’t run from the love of family and the joys of Christmas all around you. Make new memories, good memories. I can promise you; you won’t regret it.”

Emma reached up and brushed a soft kiss against his lips. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Again with the skepticism, darling? Didn’t we just establish I’m always right?”

Emma chuckled. “Whatever. I’m hungry. Are you going to take me to lunch or not?”

Killian sketched a bow. “My lady’s wish is my command.”

–Up next, Emma and Killian return to her apartment after the town’s Christmas Eve party.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#christmas reruns 2023 #cs fanfiction #captain swan christmas ff #my fanfiction #have yourself a merry little christmas

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rinwellisathing · 7 months ago

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It's A Thankless Job: Prologue

Note: Okay, so at least a couple people were interested in me posting my modern AU here. Um...it's I'm pretty sure not as good as my canon universe Durgetash, but I've been working pretty hard on it and it's been fun writing. I do hope you like it. Important to remember the prologue is the only chapter where Sentry is a teenager, there is a five year timeskip after, making him 21 for the duration of the story after this. Content warnings for this chapter involve: Misgendering, implied abuse

The spring weather had filled the fields of Balduran Public High-school with flowers of all sorts and grass as green as it would be all season. The warm weather seemed to spur on the students running along the track today for gym class, all except a small group huddled under a tree avoiding the others. A slightly chubby half-elf girl in a black hoodie with an image of a woman shrouded in darkness on it took a long drag from a predictably black clove cigarette as she leaned against the tree, her long black hair worn in a braid with several silver butterfly clips decorating it. She and the thin Tiefling girl she was sharing the cigarette with wore matching pajama pants with a cartoon owlbear with blue feathers on them. The Tiefling girl had purple skin and slightly darker purple hair, short backwards curving horns followed her hairstyle and she wore a plain black T-shirt with a few pins on it from various shows and comics. The group was rounded out by two tall male tieflings, one sitting on the ground reading a book and one laying in the grass, wrinkling his nose at the pollen in the air. The bookish one had light red skin and light brown hair, he was dressed in a patterned button down in blue and silver and a pair of sharp khaki pants. His expression was serious and intense as he focused on his book. The more carefree one had pale skin and silver hair. He was dressed in a simple black hoodie and a T-Shirt with a piece of duct tape placed over the ending part of one of the words, leaving it to read 'F-- It, We Bhaal.' he wore black and white striped wrist bands as well as a matching band on his tail as well as a black beanie with a red skull on it, rolled up behind his horns. Four silver earrings pierced each ear, with two more in his tail along with red studs at the tip.

“Look at all of them running like good little sheep.” The half-elf remarked, rolling her eyes. “If you ask me, gym class should be outlawed.” “Hey, what if they replaced it with nap time? Like why do toddlers get nap time when all they want to do is run around all day and I have to run when I wanna fucking sleep?” The Tiefling girl chuckled, taking the cigarette from her friend and taking a drag from it. “That's called study hall, Nocturne. Duh.” The silver haired boy smirked. “You get two naps a day and they're called study hall. More if you're at the back of any of your classes.” The boy with the book scoffed, not looking up from his reading. “' Rolan, you've got to help me, man, I'm failing maths.'” He spoke in a mocking tone, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, but did you or did you not do my homework for me? So who's the real winner here?” The other boy grinned, nudging his friend's leg. “Only because if you get held back a year and end up in the same class as Lia, who knows what you two will talk about behind my back.” Rolan shot back. “Well, I thank you for your dedication to keeping your sister from having someone to talk shit to.” His friend smirked, closing his eyes and laying back. “Hey, easy you two, I don't want any weird energy during the radio show today, alright?” The Tiefling girl folded her arms, side eyeing the boys. “Easy, Nocturne, we're just playing. And besides, I've got a great story for today's show too, you know how I moved in with a new family recently?” The boy laying in the grass grinned. “Yeah, what's the deal with that, Sentry? That's some Series of Unfortunate Events shit right there. Your mum dies and suddenly you have a rich family coming to collect you out of nowhere?” Nocturne looked at her friend with a touch of concern.

“It's my dad's family, don't worry about it.” Sentry brushed her off as he slowly sat up. “Anyway, everyone in my new family has these cool, sort of creepy things about them...I've been writing down some of their stories, I figure I could read some for the radio show.”

“I thought we agreed the radio show should stay academic, you know, so we don't end up getting the entire radio club shut down?” Rolan closed his book, giving Sentry a somewhat chastising look. “I feel like original fiction isn't the direction we should be going. I thought we were going to review the literature class reading list, a bit tongue in cheek sort of...” Nocturne replied. “Come on, it'll be great! Just give my idea a chance, I swear it'll be so cool.” Sentry gave his friends a wide eyed, pleading look. “Don't puppy dog eyes at me, I'm not even part of your club.” The half-elf frowned, rolling her eyes. “If this club gets shut down, though, then I lose an extra curricular for my university application.” Rolan shifted nervously. “You know how the teachers are, one step out of line and they'd shut us down.”

“And yet here you are cutting gym with the rest of us, mister valedictorian.” Sentry stuck out his tongue. “Come on, man...”

A shadow loomed over them as an imposing figure stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at the group. Their gym teacher, a hulking Orthorn in black shorts, a whistle around his neck, and a track jacket that may have been white at one point addressed them.

“Have you all really been sitting here this whole time? None of you ran a single lap?” He boomed. “Um...I have medical exemption?” Rolan produced a note from his pocket. “I'm a troubled youth dealing with a traumatic change of environment.” Sentry smirked. “Principal Jaheira said it's fine.” “And what about the two of you?” He narrowed his eyes at Nocturne and Shadowheart. “Religious exemption.” They both said in unison, holding up identical Sharran pendants. “Of course you do...Fine. Class is over, you all better hurry or you'll be late for classes you don't have convenient excuses for.” The defeated devil grumbled, storming back to the track. “Ha! Joke's on you! Mine works for everything!” Sentry shouted after him, but still got to his feet and followed his friends back into the building.

“Okay, and we're back with Balduran Public High-school's favorite lunch time radio show, Three Tieflings In A Trench-coat...Which is a name Nocturne came up with, I completely denounce any responsibility for it.” Rolan spoke into the crystal on the desk. “Anyway, back by unpopular demand, during today's show, Sentry is up on our subject matter rotation and has chosen to read a scary story...” He retreated from the desk back to a different one next to Nocturne where he pulled out a brown paper bag and began to set his lunch out. She was already eating hers, absently pulling at some string cheese as she watched Sentry approach the broadcast desk. “Hello all you spooky people. So I've recently moved into a new home, whole new family and everything. And like...when that happens, there's always that knee jerk sort of 'oh shit is this gonna be like one of those haunted house situations? And especially with a whole new family, coz...as you know, I'm an orphan and all....so I kind of get kicked around from family to family...like...are these people serial killers? Did they take me in for some crazy ritual sacrifice or something?” Sentry's voice barely hid his excitement behind a valiant attempt at a proper horror narration tone. He looked back at his friends, Rolan's head was buried in his hands like he was willing himself to melt into the floor. Nocturne grinned and gave a thumbs up. “Right, so this family, yeah? I've got some stories from my new siblings, interesting tales from all over. So the first one up for all you Kozakuran animation enthusiasts out there: Eight Paper Dolls. This a creepy story about a set of octuplets born in Kozakura, all beautiful, all perfect, each one charming....” Sentry began the tale, reciting it with enthusiasm. He slipped up on occasion, but even Rolan had to admit that once Sentry dropped any attempt to imitate a certain famous Tiefling horror actor, the story flowed and was pretty creepy.

“See, Rolan? There was nothing to worry about, his story was great.” Nocturne grinned. “ Where d'you come up with this stuff, Sentry?” “Well, this one woman, one of my new sisters, told me she once had seven biological sisters and they all died tragically back in Kozakura where she was born. She had this weird little smile on her face when she said it...” Sentry grinned. “I feel like this family was made for me honestly. I'm finally with my people...even if I still miss mum a lot.” The door to the radio room opened and a slight half-elven woman with light brown skin and bright, brown eyes narrowed in annoyance stood in the door way. She was dressed in a green blazer and a pair of dark brown slacks, her grey-blonde hair tied back in multiple braids. “Mr. Ojeda, do you really think that's an appropriate story for school hours?” She looked him over accusingly. Sentry frowned, wrinkling his nose and cocking his head. “I wanna say...yes....but your pissed off facial expression is giving me more of a 'no'???” The tiefling shrugged. Rolan slouched in his chair and Nocturne ducked behind her lunch-bag, both trying in vain to avoid Principal Jaheira's accusing gaze. She sighed and folded her arms across her chest, shaking her head and stepping back. “Look, I like you three, you're good kids. Maybe a little weird, maybe a little trouble, but most of my favorite students are...I wanted you to have your radio show...but I'm going to deal with such a headache now because of this story! If anyone repeats it, I will have parents bursting down my door, do you understand me?” She wagged a finger at Sentry, her expression sympathetic but frustrated. “I didn't want to do this, but there's no choice. I'm not dealing with these school board mothers, not even for you guys. I have to shut you down. No more radio show.” “What?!” Nocturne gasped in disbelief. “You can't be serious!” Rolan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Awww come on, Jaheira, this is total bullshit! You can't even let it slide for Commander Mum's sake?” Sentry whined. Jaheira's expression fell and she shook her head. “Look, many of us are grieving Mrs. Ojeda's passing, Sentry. She was my best friend, and I know you loved her too...but what would she tell you about this? How would she think of you acting out because she'd passed?” “She'd laugh.” Sentry shot back. “She hated all that stuffy bullshit...and she'd tease you about the school board moms when you two went out for drinks next.”

Jaheira thought a moment and smiled sadly. “Be that as it may, my decision is final... I'm sorry, Sentry.” And with that, she turned and left the room, but not before taking the wire that connected the microphone to the console. “Nice going, Sentry...I did warn you, you know.” Rolan sighed, beginning to pack up his things. “Maybe the subject this time was just a bit too much....” Nocturne nodded, stuffing her trash into a brown paper bag and crumpling it up. “I'm sorry, guys...” Sentry lowered his head, blushing with embarrassment. He knew this was all his fault, if he'd just taken Rolan's advice, they would all still have their radio show. There had to be a way to fix this.

-------

“So anyway, I'm pretty much a pariah now and my friends all hate me.” Sentry bit into another fry, looking up into his brother's red eyes as they sat across from each other at the diner. The battered red plastic of the seats had seen better days and the dingy interior called into question how safe it was to actually eat anything that came out of that kitchen. But the food was good, the food was cheap, and the chef in the kitchen was part of the family, so there was always a 'late night special' for Bhaalists. Tonight's special was a very rare burger, a dish both Sentry and Gary were enjoying as they talked. “Can't you guys just do something on the internet? Don't people make youtube shows or whatever now?” The dragonborn asked, his white scales glinting in the dim, sputtering lights of the run down dining room. “Or I could come down to the school and have a 'talk' with your principal.” He offered, tail flicking a bit at the suggestion. Sentry gripped his own tail nervously, twisting it between his hands and looking down. “No, it's better you don't. Principal Jaheira isn't....she doesn't....” He cleared his throat anxiously. “She was a friend of mum's, I don't want her hurt.” Gary quirked a brow-ridge and then chuckled. “Glad to hear it, Jaheira is kind of a name to run away from really fast, so to speak. We're pretty well acquainted with her, but that was before she was a high-school principal. Actually before my time too, but still, the stories you hear from the old heads....” He shook his head. “Anyway, if your friends don't want to hang out with you, you can always hang out with Orin.” Sentry gave Gary a completely deadpan stare. “Orin is ten years old. I'm not hanging out with a little kid.” “You two seem to get along well enough, I'm just making suggestions.” The dragonborn held up his hands defensively.

“Yeah, when I'm in charge of watching her. Like...there's a huge difference between being nice to your little sister and keeping her entertained with some arts and crafts and video games and expecting me to shoot the shit with her.” Sentry folded his arms across his chest. “Well I'm sorry, I just assumed when you and that Rolan kid hang out video games are pretty much the only thing on the agenda too, you're sixteen year old boys. I mean...unless you're jacking off together or whatever.” Gary snorted, taking another bite of his food and rolling his eyes. Sentry's face went bright red and he gripped his tail tighter, looking at the ground. “N...No, it isn't like that...we don't...we're not....we....I don't like him that way! We're just friends. He's into this guy in our shop class!” “Jeeze, you don't have to get defensive, twerp. I'm just messing with you.” Gary gave Sentry a reassuring look. “Anyway, the bottom line is you guys are kids...kids fight all the time. Your friends will get over it and I'm sure they'll be talking to you again by Monday.” He reached across the table, ruffling Sentry's pale hair with those large, imposing claws. “And if you're really lonely, maybe I can take you with me on a few jobs. Tonight went well, after all...it's probably time you got into the family business.” Sentry's eyes widened with excitement. “Oh shit, for real?” He practically jumped up in his seat. “You really mean it!?” Gary nodded his head, finishing off his food and wiping his mouth free of the red stains. “Yup, really really, kid. Now come on, finish your food. Maybe we'll have time to make a stop on the way home.”

------ “Watch out! Right behind you!” Sentry swiveled the thumb stick, the grizzled and bloodied Goliath on screen in his heavy armor rolled out of the way of a deadly swipe from the massive Minotaur “Thanks, kid. Ready for the show?” “Make him bleed, slaughter-kin!” The little girl squealed excitedly, hands balled into fists as she watched the screen.

Sentry slammed down the 'O' button and the Goliath kicked the Minotaur to the ground, stomping on the creature's back, a graphic in the corner showing a detailed X-ray of a spine snapped completely in two. The character's strong hands grabbed the creature by the horns and began to twist and yank at its head until the skin of the neck tore and the head came loose in a gratuitous torrent of blood, the Goliath holding the head above his head as a prize as the screen proclaimed that he had collected six Minotaur horns so far.

“That's my favorite part.” His little sister announced with a wide grin that showed a few missing baby teeth. She was dressed in a red T-shirt sporting a scowling cartoon character and a pair of black shorts, her long pale hair in pigtails. Her bare feet kicked as her legs dangled off the edge of the bed and she drank from a metallic silver pouch of juice. “Well, it's six more horns till I can upgrade my weapons. Shall we keep at it then?” Sentry asked. It was Saturday morning by now so he was still dressed in his pajamas. A pair of red and green striped pants and a soft black T-shirt with a clawed, bloodstained glove on the front.

“Yes! Yes! More slaughter! More blood!” The little girl giggled happily, clapping her hands together. “And maybe I could try to do one?” Sentry nodded. “Sure, Orin. Remember, you have to follow the pattern on the screen as fast as you can as it shows up.” He handed the controller back to her and retrieved his sketchbook, flipping to an empty page and beginning to sketch, looking up occasionally to coach Orin on the game play.

After a time, the two were disrupted by the door opening. A diminutive figure in a sharp black and red suit shuffled in with a tray of cookies, setting them on the bed next to Orin before walking over to Sentry and taking his hat in his hands. “Ah, young master...Sarevok wishes to speak with you.” He informed the young man hesitantly. Sentry rolled his eyes. “What, now?” The butler gulped and nodded. “Well, yes, young master. Straight away, if you would.”

Sentry rolled his eyes and climbed to his feet, folding his arms across his chest. “You know, if Gary and I are father's chosen favorites, I really don't get why I have to lesson to a crumbling old sack of flesh who's desperate to put his dick in me. I feel like that's something my father shouldn't approve of.” Fel stammered and fumbled for words, hat in hand, head lowered. “Young master, I....” Sentry scoffed and shook his head. “Whatever. Just stay here with Orin in case she needs anything while I'm gone.” He shuffled out of the room, tail raised warily despite himself. ---- “You still insist on dressing like a boy.” His new guardian's deep voice boomed from the plush red and gold chair he sat in across the room. He raised a crystal glass to his lips and took a sip of whiskey before setting it down. “I AM a boy.” Sentry corrected him, looking away with a cold glare, refusing to meet those burning yellow eyes. “You are Vereena Mortis and you are meant to breed.” Sarevok pointed a thick finger toward Sentry, the dim light of the room revealed that he was dressed, as usual, in that stupid old fashioned suit he always wore like a mob boss in the movies. Buying his own con that the family really was some sort of crime syndicate instead of a murder cult covering it up with whoring, drug deals, and protections rackets. “Even if your older brother doesn't see fit to use you as intended.” “Because Gary's not a creep.” Sentry shot back. He was valiantly standing his ground, putting on a tough front, but his tail was in his hands again. “Your brother has certain....peculiarities....about how this family is to be run, that is why your father put me in charge.” Sarevok replied, rising from his chair and approaching Sentry. The tiefling flinched, trying to keep from trembling. Even after his most recent growth spurt, Sarevok still seemed to tower over him. “We covered up the fire you started, all the murders you committed when you were a child....We allowed you respite for a time with another family, one outside of our kind....It is not unreasonable to expect you to do your job.”

“Actually it is. I'm a child, for fuck's sake.” Sentry staggered backwards, backing into another figure, this one a bit shorter than he was, but strongly built, calloused fingers digging into his skin as he was grabbed by the arms and held in place. Sarevok approached him slowly as Sentry's eyes widened with fear. No, you're chosen, you're special. You've taken lives, Sentry, don't let them see that you're scared! He told himself. “Hey! That's enough!” A voice rang out from the doorway. The sound of heavy combat boots hit the floor accompanied by the swish of a thick tail, heavy with scales and muscle. Big brother. “You are interrupting a lesson, Gary.” Sarevok growled. “Yeah, piss off!” The drow holding Sentry's arms spat. “Talk to me like that again and I'll fucking gut you, Jackal.” Gary hissed and then walked up to Sarevok, hands pressed together and expression thoughtful. “Grownups are talking, so show some decorum.” He finally addressed the boss. “So the bottom line you've been harping on is you expect Sentry to pull his weight, right?” Sentry's eyes were squeezed shut tightly at this point, so he didn't see what Gary did to make Jackal release him, only heard a pained yelp and felt the hands let go of his arms and his second brother stagger back swiftly. He dared to peek, seeing Gary standing between him and Sarevok now. “The kid isn't a breeder. For one thing, he's sixteen years old. For another thing, he's Chosen and he said no. I'd like to think you remember who's still in charge here, even if you have a special title.” Gary nodded towards the wall where a sculpture of a leering red skull held court. Sentry noticed that Sarevok's nostrils flared, but he inclined his head. “Put the kid to work like Tomi and Jackal and I. Send him out on 'garbage disposal' or deliveries. He's tough and he's pretty twisted. Believe me, I've been showing him around a bit.” Sarevok seemed to think for a minute, looking to the image of father and then back to Sentry. A cruel smirk crossed his lips just briefly before he looked back to Gary and nodded. “You're right, the....child... could be useful with our daily tasks...”

'Still won't call me a boy, though, you miserable old creep.' Sentry thought bitterly as he looked at the ground. He startled, but looked up as he felt Gary's hand on his shoulder, protective. “He will be. Trust me. The kid had fifty kills under his belt at age six, he's a natural.” Gary slugged Sentry's shoulder fondly. “My caveat remains, however, that he will engage in ALL forms of business the family is involved with. He is not exempt from any job I would require of any other Bhaalist...after all, as you know many of them allow our assassins close enough to kill....you understand.” Those yellow eyes leered down at Sentry even as he spoke to the boy's older brother. Gary winced, but he knew when to cut and run. This was the best deal he could get and the most he was able to protect Sentry, so he nodded his head. “Right, of course.” “Better anyone else than you.” Sentry stuck out his tongue at Sarevok as Gary guided him from the room. He knew exactly what Sarevok meant and it made his stomach churn with disgust, but anything was better than going back to the life he'd been born into.

---- “Well, Mr. Ojeda, welcome to your first day as an Unholy Assassin, then.” Gary's voice was playfully formal as he held out a hand to shake his little brother's. Sentry grinned and instead wrapped the tip of his tail around Gary's and shook his tail. “Thanks, Mr...um....big bro...I'm the right man for the job, you won't regret it!” “Well, before the big boss decides to be an asshole and stick you on the worst assignment on your first day, I'm making an executive decision: Deliveries for you. Go see Tomi in the morning to pick up the product and then Fel will have a list for you of who's buying. If Sarevok bitches about it, remind him our other delivery boy sucks at his job and sticks out like a sore thumb in his stupid red outfit and that should shut him up at least for the week.” Gary instructed as he saw Sentry to his bedroom door. He gave the Tiefling a sympathetic look and grabbed his shoulder gently before he returned to the room. “And hey, have a good night, okay?” Sentry gave his brother a small smile and nodded. “I will. Thanks. Hopefully Orin hasn't got my guy killed.” He chuckled as he walked into the room. “Hi slaughter-kin! Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Orin chirped excitedly as Sentry sat down beside her on the bed.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #oc #tiefling #dark urge #durge #writing #oc: sentry ojeda #fanfic #default durge #default dark urge #Rolan #Nocturne #Shadowheart #orin the red #Modern AU

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impossiblefangirl0632 · 1 year ago

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Previously on Take Back the Kingdom (spoilers for everything pre Ch 31)

Chapter 15: The Stuff of Legends (Bruno thinking about how Jose threatened Mirabel)

Bruno felt his anger boil over into the immediate area around him. He grit his teeth and clenched his fist to draw the destructive magic back in. Not here, not yet.

Just a few more days before he could commit the murder he’d been planning for 500 years. No matter whatever else happened, Bruno was going to kill Jose Nehoye or die trying.

Dead, brittle grass crunched beneath his feet when he finally stood.

Just a few more days.

Chapter 21: Demons Run (after the mercenaries)

Bruno looked around, making eye contact with each of them, from Isabela all the way down to Antonio. “Next time I explicitly give you instructions, I need you to follow them.”

Chapter 22: Interlude III: Questions & Answers

Bruno scowled. “Assuming he’s still frozen, that should be enough to actually kill him.”

“...what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’m fairly certain that he made himself immortal before coming back to the Encanto.”

“Immortal?!”

“You can do that?

“What do you mean back ?”

Bruno held up his hand to stem the flow of panicked questions. “Yes, back .” His eyes darkened, “José was banished as a teenager when his father led the coup against mine.”

He gave them a minute before cutting off their cries of shock and outrage by raising a hand once more.

“After I left the first thing I did was find out as much about him as I could, know your enemy and all that. I knew there was no way someone that powerful and that evil just sprung up out of nowhere without leaving a trail. What I was able to piece together is that after his father’s death he vowed to finish what he started. But to do that he needed power.”

He nodded towards Mirabel. “When I taught you about the source of magic, I didn’t tell you about the other source. The darker source. You can cultivate magic, or you can steal it.”

Taking the amulet out of his pocket Bruno ran his thumb over the engraved butterfly. “José had spent years hunting down magic users to steal their magic, and their life force. He’s not immortal in the same way I am, but I’m betting it’ll take a decent amount of force to use up all of his stolen life and actually kill him.”

Chapter 23: By the Skin of Our Teeth (while Bruno is thinking after waking up from the nightmare vision of his almost suicide)

Turning it over in his hands he ran his fingers down the lines of runes decorated the edges of the worn leather. Spells to preserve it, spells to return it to him should he lose it, spells to reinforce the blade. It had been his constant companion even before he left the Encanto and everything that followed. To this day he didn’t know how he felt about it.

Remnant light from the embers of their fight danced in the emerald blade as he lowered it and laid the sword across his knees, absently tracing the engraved hourglass in the pommel. Even with the temptation it represented, he had always kept it with him. Because it was a piece of home yes, but also because it was his best shot at killing José quickly. Bruno knew his own strength, knew that he had him outclassed in raw power. But José was clever, and wouldn’t hesitate to fight dirty, and Bruno had everything to lose.

It’s why he had put so much time and effort into making sure the sword could kill José. Over the years Bruno had added his own spells to the sword but the one he was relying on was the original curse, the power to kill an immortal. It had been a relief to find out for sure that it worked on immortals who’d cheated by stealing life from others.

‘Protect our people. Protect our family.’ Those words, that admonition from his mother echoed in his mind as he absently traced the words that had been etched into the leather of the scabbard near the hilt. He didn’t need to look to follow their path, tracing the letters had been how he centered himself before a fight ever since his mother gave it to him after he’d been chosen as the heir

:::

(after the vision and him debating with himself what the last two scenes means, ie whether he should hope for survival or not)

The debate between realism, pessimism and optimism raged on through what was left of the night. An hour before dawn he finally came to a decision. He would assume the worst, set contingencies for if he failed to defeat José, while holding on to a sliver of hope to keep himself from doing anything too reckless.

First things first. The kids could not learn of this, nothing could be gained from them knowing and it would only worry and distract them. Picking up the discarded tablet he reached into its future, dragging it forward in time until it crumbled into green sand that slipped through his fingers.

Chapter 24: Reluctance in All its Forms (While Bruno tells Isabela and Dolores about Oscar)

“When I decided to adopt him I told myself I would quietly slip out of his life when he was an adult and didn’t need me anymore. And you know what he did?” He huffed at the memory despite the somber atmosphere. “The morning of his 18th birthday he knocked on my door and handed me a notebook that he’d started when he was eight with the words ‘Proof that Pa is Immortal’ written on the front cover.” Bruno had taken his hands back to wave one in a slow arc emphasizing the title.

#TBTK #my fic

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ewooxyjewelry · 1 year ago

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The Romance of the Rococo Period. Luxurious Russian Aesthetics

The Glory of the Classical Period. The Aesthetics of the Victorian Era

Accumulation of Aesthetics | Hidden in World Famous Paintings: Splendor Pearl Jewelry

The brilliant colors depicted by the painter ignite the artistic soul of jewelry. The splendor of pearls hidden in the painting unintentionally reveals the owner's identity and preferences, while also recording the most classic female jewelry styles of that era.

The Romance of the Rococo Period

The lace-backed Choker pearl necklace is a classic necklace style of the royal family during the Rococo period. The soft lace and lustrous pearls, along with bow decorations, echo the high-worn Choker pearl chain and the exposed skin of fashion. When it comes to Rococo style art, one cannot fail to mention Madame Pompadour. As a cultural patron, she influenced the court as well as the lifestyle, fashion, and artistic tendencies of France.

Luxurious Russian Aesthetics

The main part of the necklace is composed of 21 oval-shaped diamonds, with 15 pear-shaped diamonds suspended below and connected by small diamonds. The total weight of the diamonds is 475 carats. Maria, as a Danish princess, married Tsar Alexander III and eventually succeeded in being crowned as the Empress of the empire. She not only inherited the precious treasures collected by emperors and queens of past generations but also received many jewelry pieces from Alexander III as expressions of love. She had a strong fondness for diamonds, and the presence of diamonds can be seen throughout her portrait.

The Glory of the Classical Period

Napoleon once dominated Europe, and his lifelong love, Empress Josephine, was also an unparalleled beauty. How much did Napoleon love her? Despite the opposition from his family, he crowned her as Empress and had a crown made by the jeweler Chaumet (Shangmei Paris) adorned with 1,040 diamonds. At that time, only male members of the royal family could wear a crown, but in everyday life, this queen, who loved simplicity and classicism, favored pearl jewelry.

The Aesthetics of the Victorian Era

The Victorian era was the pinnacle of artistic development in "antique jewelry," presenting a style of beauty and romance through gemstones. In terms of design, the jewelry was often accompanied by relatively simple and rounded lines. As for the shapes, they were predominantly inspired by nature, such as flowers, butterflies, and vines. The sense of happiness in Queen Victoria's family influenced her aesthetic preferences, making the jewelry fashion of this era under the Queen's influence light-hearted and delightful. Pearls became the darlings of the aristocracy. While many people could only dream of owning the royal jewels, pearls became cherished possessions among the nobility. In an era when cultured pearls were not yet mature, a pearl with a beautiful luster and unique shape was especially adored by the upper class. For the past 2,000 years, pearls have been regarded as symbols of status and wealth.

More Pearl Jewelry at EWOOXY.

#pearljewelryset #classic #jewelry #jewellery #earrings #pearl necklace #necklace

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dagger-n-ravvi · 14 days ago

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Chapter One: Graduation

Azul sets up a very special vacation for Riddle in the North Coral Sea. His offer is presented in only the most scrupulous of ways, and for the sole purpose of congratulating Riddle on beating him out of the Valedictorian spot.

And lucky for him, Floyd has agreed to accompany him for the duration of his kidnapping vacation!

This is a romantic comedy that follows the events of Eels in Spawn . It's not critical to read Eels in Spawn first, but there are a handful of references made to it in the coming chapters.

We love comments and feedback! Feel free to let us know what you think <3

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, peer pressure to drink, accidentally drunk Riddle, gentle kidnapping. Also, there will be explicit sex and consensual twincest (Jade x Floyd) in later chapters.

Next Chapter | Index

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47890741/chapters/120739675

Before Riddle’s reign, Heartslabyul had unrepentantly been the party dorm. Even now, they regularly attract social butterflies, the comically unhinged, and the sort of absurd personalities that really brighten up a room. Sometimes that brightness is the result of the room being set on fire, but gleeful arson aside, it's undeniable that their parties are wacky, memorable, and just plain fun. When the inmates run the asylum, the rules fly out the window in favour of glorious, unstructured chaos.

And it is exactly THIS sort of chaos that Riddle had been so opposed to when he'd begun attending Night Raven! The lack of structure, despite Heartslabul’s standing as the dorm of ORDER. Chaotic order, but order nonetheless. The previous housewarden had leaned into the chaos to the point of anarchy, preferring to add to his dormmates' antics rather than bring them into line. He enforced a paltry handful of rules, and refused to follow any of them himself. Riddle had tolerated it for one week, and in his opinion, that had been seven days too many.

His takeover had been swift, decisive and complete. The Queen of Hearts' rules were rigidly reinstated. At first, he'd simply adhered to the celebrations that Heartslabul was famous for, because they were traditional. Unbirthday parties, tea parties, and the Welcoming Feast for incoming freshmen are all tick marks on a list that needs to be checked off. Duties with a set of criteria no more interesting than ensuring that the roses remain painted, and his students are in bed by ten PM.

But over time, he'd come to appreciate the parties more and more. They are a moment of fun, and a whimsical escape from the stresses of college-level tests and classes. His own academic performance improves when he allows for such moments, and so does that of the students within his care…

"C'mon Riddle! It's STRAWBERRY!" Cater’s face is flushed as he holds out a tiny cup of jello that's been intentionally spiked with vodka. "It’s GRADUATION. You gonna go all the way through school without touching alcohol ONCE?"

…But THIS might be taking it too far. It's the Graduation Banquet, and Riddle’s final party at college. Cater and Trey both surprised him by showing up to celebrate. Their attention is touching, and at the moment, a little alarming. Everyone who attends the banquet must contribute a dish to the feast, per the Queen’s Laws. Cater had brought a tray of cookies that are decorated with, in his words, 'ultra cammable holo sprinkles.' He also brought a tray of jello shots that ONLY the seniors are permitted to have, per a loophole in the rules that Riddle still isn't sure how he feels about:

QUEEN’S LAW # 20: Alcohol shall NOT be consumed in any setting during which learning is expected to occur.

Learning is NOT officially occurring at this party. It is the end of the year, finals are over, and all the seniors have graduated.

QUEEN’S LAW # 21: Beverages containing liquor may only be consumed by persons of, or past the age of twenty. Such consumption must take place under the guidance of an elder.

All of the graduating seniors are, in fact, twenty or older. And after graduating themselves last year, Trey and Cater are. Barely. ‘Elders.’

QUEEN’S LAW # 80: Liquors served at the Queen’s events must be presentable, and prepared liberally with fruit and colour.

The jello shots Cater created are admittedly gorgeous, and he made all of them with real fruit juices and pulp. They fall into the rules so neatly that it’s almost uncanny.

"They aren't that strong, Riddle," Trey reassures him. He has four empty jello cups stacked in front of him, and he seems to have cut himself off there. "And Cater did a good job with the fruit compote. The strawberries were picked fresh yesterday."

Riddle stares at the jewel-bright shots in their petite, plastic cups. They do look rather fun and delicious. The rainbow of colors is quite alluring, even if in the back of his mind...

MOTHER’S LAW (un-numbered): Drinking alcohol will damage your mind and your body! It is pure poison, and you will NEVER drink a drop. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen people destroy their lives AND FOR WHAT-

Riddle lightly shakes his head. She also said that sugar was poison. That studying was all that he needed to be happy and successful. That playing was a waste of time, and Trey was a bad influence. But he’s not at home, and if the Queen of Hearts has taught him anything, it was that rigor must be balanced with fun.

“You’re sure it’s safe? Isn’t this technically poison?” He stares at the little cup hesitantly.

"Pshhhhhhhh~" Cater sniggers, waving his hand as though he's swatting Riddle's concerns aside. Five jello shots of his own have made him much more silly and talkative than normal. "If it was poison, then wouldn't me and Trey be like? Totally dead right now? It's only thiiiiiis much vodka." He holds his fingers about an inch apart. "I'm barely even tipsy."

"It's not poison any more than caffeine is poison," Trey confirms. "Just don't eat more than two or three. Depending on your alcohol tolerance, you might not feel anything, but it’s best to start slow."

“Alright…” Riddle swallows his nerves, and holds out his hand. “Just ONE.”

"YES!" Cater gleefully hands him the cup. It has about two tablespoons of soft, red jello inside. The semi-liquid is flecked with strawberry pulp and it’s very fragrant, more like jelly than an alcoholic beverage. Riddle tips it curiously from side to side, watching the contents jiggle. It’s very pretty for something that’s making him feel like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff.

’I barely even smell the vodka, and I’m following the Queen’s Laws of fruit and supervision… just… try it-! ’

He tips the cup upward, takes a tiny, delicate sip, and then smiles in unexpected delight. Oh! It’s so sweet and full of wonderful strawberry flavour~

"PFFFFTTTTTT-HAHAHAHA!" Cater doubles over laughing. "Riddleeeee! You're supposed to drink the whole thing in one go. That's why it's teeny~"

“But I like it this way,” Riddle protests and takes another tiny sip, treating the alcohol with the same caution he’d show a very hot cup of tea.

“That is soooo cute~” Tongue between his teeth, Cater pulls out his phone and snaps a photo as Riddle slowly finishes the drink.

"Cater, don't post that," Trey says mildly.

"I'm not gonna POST it, but loooook! Baby's first jello shot," Cater coos, turning the screen around.

“Would you please-? Ugh, forget it.” Riddle grumpily looks down into the empty cup, cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment. It makes no sense. If you go fast, then how can you enjoy the flavour? Cater clearly put a lot of effort into making this taste nice. Is it not supposed to be savoured? ”Why must it be consumed in one go? Is that a rule?”

"It's not a rule," Trey sighs.

"It's KINDA a rule," Cater muses. "But like. Not a RULE rule. Everyone always drinks it like a shot. That's why you put it in shot glasses."

He reaches for an orange one, downs it in one gulp, and then smacks the cup down into his stack of empties.

"WHOO! LIKE THAT! Wheeeeee~" He raises both arms and falls back against the couch with a little cheer.

"Ooookay, that's enough for Cater." Trey gently, but firmly moves the tray out of Cater's reach.

"#sixjelloshots, #graduation, #tipsy-as-fuuuuuuuck!" Cater giggles, then falls sideways onto Trey's lap and takes a selfie.

“If that is a rule… kinda or not, then I shall honor it.” Riddle declares. Trey is his supervising elder, and he said to have no more than two or three. That means that Riddle is still within the Queen’s laws to have another, especially if he’s going to drink it correctly and make up for his earlier mistake.

He grabs another cup, takes a deep breath, and swallows the contents in two, quick gulps. Even though it was red like the first one, it's cherry flavoured instead of strawberry. He only gets a flash of tart, fruity flavour, and then his throat warms, making his eyes water just a little. A gentle burn slides all the way down his body, and his cheeks and forehead flush in a way that’s surprisingly pleasant. He coughs, then rubs his eyes and sets the glass down. “Oh… I understand… why fast…”

“Riddle!!” Cater cheers, reaching over to fist-bump him. “How’s it feel?”

Riddle stares at the fist for a moment before grabbing and shaking it with a grave, formal air. “Very good. Thank you.”

He cracks a smile. “Pffft… I do a jest. Because it is not the shaking of hands. It is the hitting of fists!”

“Hitting… of fists-!” Cater doubles over, laughing so hard his eyes tear up. “Riddle, my buddy, my hella awkward friend. Have you never fist-bumped anyone before?”

“Not really,” Riddle admits.

“Wooooow. Boop!” Cater bumps his knuckles against Riddle’s, then pulls his hand back with a giggle. “First jello shot, first fist bump! This calls for celebration!”

He picks up another cup and Trey calmly plucks it out of his hand before he can drink it.

“Heyyyyyy…” Cater looks miffed for just a moment before Trey kisses him on the forehead.

“No more.”

“Fiiiiine DAD-“ Cater pouts, draping himself across Trey’s lap and taking an upside-down photo of him. “#drink-thief, #love-you-Trey-Trey~”

Riddle takes the drink from Trey's hand and gives Cater a stern look. "I am confiscating this. You are at the limit, as stated by your elder. Laws must be obeyed."

“Heeey, but I’M older,” Cater grumbles from Trey’s lap. “I’m the older elder, lol~”

“Not by much…” Trey nods a thank-you to Riddle as he takes the drink. “And in this case I’m-eep?!” He jumps a little as Cater teasingly slips a hand under his leg and pinches his ass.

“Love you Trey-Trey~” Cater sings with a teasing expression.

“I love you too, Cater, but you are officially past the tipsy mark.” Trey gently grabs his hand and pulls it out from under his butt. Cater immediately tugs it away, then fist-bumps him with a cackle.

“Boop! I’m JUST tipsy. Pwomise~”

Starting to feel a little awkward, Riddle wanders away from them, still holding the jello shot. Cater’s touching seems inappropriate, but he and Trey are a couple. Teasing and touching are both weird couple things, which makes a lot of the usual rules around such activities… alarmingly fuzzy. But Riddle isn’t a couple, he is a him. And therefore, he should leave them alone…

Even if they said that they were here to celebrate graduation with him.

Feeling a little lonely and pensive, he wanders through the party. Everyone is thoroughly enjoying themselves. For many of them, it’s their last party at Night Raven, and they’re making the most of it… at least until Riddle wanders over. Every time he walks past a group of students, they quiet down. Their posture visibly stiffens. Some avoid eye contact, and others just smile at him politely. But that’s normal. It’s the reaction he expects. He’s their Housewarden after all, if only for one more night.

He looks down at the jello shot in his hand, remembering Cater’s flushed cheeks and easy giggles. He always manages to have a good time, no matter what. He made so many of these pretty jellos…

Riddle gives the cup a swirl. This one is strawberry again. He can tell by the seeds, and the sweet, fragrant smell. Trey said to only eat two or three. If he does eat this one, it would be his last for tonight…

He grips the cup a little more firmly. His last one. He should do his best to drink it correctly, since the rules make it so difficult to practice.

He throws it back, shuddering just a little as the alcohol burns his throat again. It warms his face, and he tosses the empty cup into a trash can. His depth perception suddenly feels a little shaky, like his legs are simultaneously longer AND shorter than they should be. It makes him feel a bit nauseous, even though the strawberry is perfectly sweet, fruity, and flavourful. It probably should have bothered him, but as he looks around, he can’t help but find this entire party SO funny. All his dorm mates are being scaredy cats about the rules, and about him! They’re scared of him when HE’S the one drinking alcohol. ALCOHOL. He’s drinking poison, because it’s fruity and pretty and he has elder supervision, just like the Queen of Hearts would have wanted. IT. IS. RIDICULOUS.

He giggles to himself, smiling indulgently as his dormmates begin to stare. Dummies... silly billies! How very foolish. This is all fine!

"Hey there friends, gonna miss ya,” he says warmly to the first group, before wandering over to the next. “Love you all, gonna miss you!”

Most people look alarmed and confused by his friendliness, which somehow makes it all even MORE funny. They all keep acting like this is a trick or a test, but it’s not!! He’s TIPSY, just like Cater. Tipsy~ It makes so much SENSE now why it’s called that. His ankles keep trying to flop over and make him stumble. He wants to tip over! Like a tipsy teapot~

Riddle laughs, "Okay love ya! Bye bye." He spins around, then stumbles into someone. "Oof! My apologies."

It’s Ace Trappola. He’s a junior now, and unlike Riddle, his age came with a last minute growth spurt that made him just a hair taller than Trey. Like all upperclassmen, his card-soldier’s heart mark is painted just below his eye, instead of across the far corner of it where freshmen are required to paint theirs. It makes him look so mature…

Riddle stares up at him with a big, friendly smile. It’s hilarious to remember how stupid and awkward he was when he first came into Night Raven. And he still is in MANY ways, but he’d become a halfway decent Vice Housewarden over the past year. Riddle only found himself occasionally regretting the decision. Usually after one or two of Ace’s infamous shortcuts had landed him in hot water.

“Housewarden?” Ace blinks down at Riddle. “Uhhhh… are you ok?”

"MMM-hmmm... Yes. I am good. So. Good. I am graduating." Riddle nods emphatically.

“I know… that’s why we’re having this party…” Ace’s eyebrows furrow in amused confusion.

"I'm going to be gone... I won't be your Housewarden anymore." Riddle puts a hand on Ace's shoulder, expression gravely serious. "I got one thing to say to you. Listen close."

Tentatively, Ace leans forward to listen.

"You’re too tall. Stop it." Riddle baps him on the top of head, and then giggles delightedly at his own joke. "Ahhhhh ha ha ha, funny. Ace... I'm gonna miss you. Be good okay? No more deals with Azul."

“Pfffft-!” Ace laughs and lightly rubs the top of his head. “Sure thing Housewarden. But like… are you sure you’re ok? It seems really weird to ask YOU of all people but…? Are you drunk?”

"Drunk? Noooo... I only drank TINY things." Riddle pinches his fingers together to show how tiny the shots were. "So tiny. And fruit. It's okay. I'm supervised."

He nods to himself. He IS fine, but walking is getting hard in these high heels, even though they’re perfectly fitted and well-padded. Floyd of all people gave him these, because his old pair were hurting him. It was a very kind thing for him to do, even if he was acting so weird at the time…

"Floyd’s shoes are making me dizzy. I'm taking them off." He reaches down and unties the laces with a little giggle. Curse Floyd’s shoes for making him extra tipsy!

“Oh boy,” Ace bends forward, both hands held up in baffled alarm. “Uh, housewarden? Riddle? Please don’t take your shoes off out here.”

“Nnngh-?” Riddle blinks at the laces, wondering how they got into such a complicated knot.

“Deuce! Deuce get over here!”

“Huh?” Deuce looks up from a card game at a nearby table, eyes widening when he sees that Ace is standing over Riddle. “Oh. Just a sec guys…”

"Can’t get them off? Oh well. Gotta put them back on." Riddle starts trying to re-tie his boots, but the laces make no sense. He finds himself twisting the strings a bunch, and then leaving it at that with a shrug. He stands back up, then almost bumps head-long into Deuce.

"Oof! Oh, hello Deuce! You be good. Keep Ace out of trouble." Feeling more and more wobbly, he walks away from Ace and Deuce, back in the direction where he left his supervising elder. “Gotta find… Trey.”

“Riddle, you can barely walk in a straight line. Let’s get you back to your room,” Ace says placatingly. “Then you can take off your shoes, yeah? Deuce will go find Trey and tell him where you went, right Deuce?”

“Oh, sure. I think I just saw him walk out into the garden with Cater,” Deuce offers.

“YOU!” Riddle’s eyes flash as he sees a group of five freshmen standing around the last of Cater’s jello-shots. Blatantly, one of them takes a forbidden drink, guzzles it down, and then reaches for another.

“How DARE you consume alcohol without a supervising elder! AND UNDER THE AGE OF TWENTY! You barely comply with the requirement that no learning is taking place because YOU CLEARLY NEED TO BE TAUGHT A LESSON!”

“Housewarden?!” The freshman’s voice is squeaky with panic as he stares back at Riddle. All of his friends carefully and collectively take a step back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know-“

“LIES ON TOP OF MISCONDUCT! OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”

It’s a testament to Riddle’s skill as a mage that even while unexpectedly drunk, his unique magic works immediately and perfectly. A large, heart-shaped collar locks around the freshman’s neck, firmly sealing away his magical ability.

“AND THE REST OF YOU!” Riddle rounds on the rest of them, face crimson with rage. “ENABLING-“

“Riddle! Easyyyyy. Let us handle it,” Ace soothes with growing alarm as Deuce quickly takes the last few jello-shots and tosses them into the trash.

“NO! It’s clear that the Queen’s laws are being flouted! I WILL HAVE ORDER.”

The group of freshman students are all nearly sophomores, and they know Riddle’s reputation well enough to be terrified of his wrath. They frantically hold up their hands with stammered apologies and promises not do it again.

“That’s right! You won’t. Early bed for all of you. Go on! Party’s over…” Deuce tries to intervene, herding the collared freshman back toward his friends.

“INSUFFICIENT. Alcohol is not to be trifled with. It is poison and it will ruin your life, you’re never to touch a drop and it will destroy… n-never…”

“Riddle…?” Ace asks cautiously as Deuce hurriedly shoos the rule-breaking freshmen away to their rooms.

“It’s not healthy… not… healthy… ohhhhh…” Riddle whimpers, looking down at his shoes with their impossible laces. It will damage your mind and your body! You’re NEVER to drink a drop!

“Oh n-n-no…” Riddle sniffles, and then rubs his eyes with the palms of both hands, trying to stop the tears from falling. He is unhealthy! He damaged his mind. He drank poison, and now…

“Ace… I don’t wanna go home. Mama’s gonna kill me. But I dun know where to go…” Riddle sobs, hyperventilating as tears well up in the corners of his eyes.

“Room. Let’s go to your room. Right now,” Ace insists with growing panic, quickly herding him away from the party and into the hallway. Riddle sniffs hard, but yes, this is fair. The punishment for drinking poison is an early bedtime, like Deuce gave the freshmen. He will also go to bed early…

“I was s’posed to be on my own for a couple days… just me… Mama said I could, oof-!” Riddle stumbles in his half-untied boots and falls into a wall.

“Heyyyyyyyy,” Ace helps him back to his feet, walks him to his room, and immediately closes the door behind them. “There. All better, see?”

Ace breathes a sigh of relief. This should keep Riddle from seeing any more rule-breakers and, Seven forbid, trying to use magic while he’s stumbling drunk. Ace doesn’t know the specifics of Riddle’s home life, and he doesn’t really need to. Seeing him overblot with a phantom that was essentially a twisted, monstrous version of his own mother tells him everything that he needs to know about how he was raised. Best to get Riddle’s mind off that, and get him into bed. Being drunk makes it easier to dwell on your thoughts and react to them. The last thing he needs is for his housewarden to punish himself in some dangerous way for an imagined crime.

“You can take your shoes off now, housewarden. You wanted them off, right?”

“Oh… oh right. My shoes…” Riddle flops to the floor with the wobbly grace of a newborn fawn, and begins clumsily tugging at his shoes. Laces are haaaaard. He’ll just…nngh…?

“Here, let me help…”

Ace makes quick work of his shoe laces, then gently tugs his shoes off and sets them neatly beside the bed for him. “There you go. You should get into bed. That’s the best way to get alcohol out of you. Sleep it off.”

“… Yes… Early bedtime.” Riddle willingly crawls into bed. Early bedtime is his punishment… a fair punishment for poisoning himself. This will make it all better…

Ace bites his lip to hold back a snigger as Riddle puts his head down and obediently falls asleep. He NEVER thought he’d see the day when Riddle Rosehearts got passed-out drunk. Ace is not not the same Vice Housewarden that Trey was, but he more or less learned to fill the same role. Placate and reason with the teapot tyrant… and then make Deuce to do all of the nurture-y type stuff with the freshmen and party planning. Ehh, Deuce is better at all that boring crap anyway.

Riddle’s breathing steadies and slows. A mischievous smile creeps across Ace’s face as he stares at Riddle’s unprotected forehead. He HAS to take advantage of this. It’s literally a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He feels through his pockets for something to write with…

“What are you doing?” Deuce hisses from the doorway as Ace takes a red eyeliner pencil out of his pocket.

“Deuce! Sheesh, jumpscare me, why don’t you.” Ace sighs loudly, then walks up to Riddle with the pencil.

“Don’t you dare draw a dick on his face.”

“Wow? Suspicious much? I wasn’t gonna do anything that bad, sheesh.”

“Liar.”

“Shush.” Tongue between his teeth, Ace lightly draws a heart over the corner of Riddle’s left eye, in the same place where freshmen card soldiers traditionally draw theirs. He heard that Riddle was a heart-suit in the week before he became Housewarden. There. Now he gets to be a freshman again for just a few hours~

“You are such a child,” Deuce rolls his eyes. “He’s gonna kill you when he wakes up.”

“Not if you don’t TELL him.”

They both leave the room, bickering quietly as Deuce turns out the light and locks the door to keep anyone else from sneaking in and decorating Riddle’s face. Riddle is only faintly aware of their exit, snuggling into his pillows with a faint, floaty sigh. This… this is better. Dark and quiet. He’s a little disappointed that he can’t go back to the party, but early bedtime is a fair punishment…

“Oh, Jade ~”

Azul’s voice is muffled, but his tone makes it clear that he is impressed and delighted to a nearly unholy degree. Riddle groans and cracks open an eye. ‘Go away. I’m being punished…’

“This is TRULY the best graduation present you could have given me. How on EARTH did you orchestrate this?”

Three pairs of eyes glitter through the window of Riddle’s room as Jade deftly breaks the window lock, and lifts the sash.

“Oh… a few glamorous photos of jello shots shared amongst Cater’s Magicam followers. A reminder that Riddle’s favourite flavour is strawberry…” Jade smiles modestly as he steps through the window. “Approximately half a year studying Heartslabul’s laws. There are an adorable number of guidelines just around hedgehog care…”

“Heeeeeeeey… you shouldn’ climb through windows. No invitation.” Riddle glares blearily at the intruders. He is being punished with an early bedtime! No one must interfere. He drank poison and his punishment is very fair. “You go to bed, or itsss… off with your head…”

“But we’ve come to congratulate the reigning Valedictorian,” Azul smiles, taking an enormous and blatant amount of enjoyment from Riddle’s inebriation. “I even have a gift for the man who knocked me out of the top spot for the final time with his flawless grades.”

Riddle blinks very slowly. “Congrats? Ooooh… okay, okay. But I’m punished. Get to part where I lose mine temper...”

Floyd giggles, then happily sits on the edge of Riddle’s bed and ruffles his hair. “Goldfishie is drunk~.”

“No I’m not!” Riddle protests, palming his left eye. The fitful gesture unintentionally smears Ace’s heart mark into a big, red streak that blends amusingly into his hair.

“No? Then what is he?” Floyd hums.

“Riddle is not drunk.” Riddle flops back down onto his pillow with a soft groan. “Tipsy. Tiny things...”

“Goldfishie is tipsy then?”

“… Yes.”

Floyd breaks into delighted giggles. “Jade, he's so cute. Look at his cheeks!” He wraps both hands around either side of Riddle’s flushed face and gives it a ‘lil squeeze. Riddle clumsily slaps him away, face turning even pinker.

“Adorable,” Jade agrees warmly.

“Don’t tease, now. It’s graduation,” Azul chuckles, pressing his glasses a little further up the bridge of his nose. “And well past time that Riddle took a fully-earned break. But we shouldn’t overstay our welcome if he is trying to get some sleep. Here~”

He holds out a white box with a red ribbon tied around it. Riddle blinks, then accepts it with a confused little noise. "Thank you, but it's not my birthday. It's my unbirthday."

“Is that so? Then happy unbirthday to you! Are you going to open your gift?”

"What's an unbirthday, Goldfishie?" Floyd cocks his head to one side.

"Umm-birthday... You have ONE birthday in the year. An Unbirthday is celebrated the other days. All three hundred sixty four," Riddle explains.

"Oh wow! So today is MY unbirthday too! And Jade’s!"

"It is? That’s amazing! Here you go." Riddle hands the box to Floyd with a hazy smile and a giggle.

"Heeeee! Azul I got an unbirthday gift!"

“That’s wonderful!” Azul says with a brittle, forced smile. “Are YOU going to open it?”

“Maybe~” Floyd looks mischeviously down at the gift, and then over at Jade and Azul’s now openly irritated expressions. He rolls his eyes. “Ughhhhh, fine. Goldfishie! Happy Unbirthday!" He gives it back to Riddle.

"Wow! For me?"

"For you!"

"Thank you..." Riddle opens it with a smile. It’s full of delicate, pink buttermints resting in gold paper cups. They smell wonderfully of vanilla and spearmint, and each says ‘eat me’ across the front in ornate, gold cursive.

"Oooooooh... candy." Riddle takes one and eats it immediately. It says ‘eat me!’ He has to obey the writing…

A wave of exhaustion rolls through Riddle’s body. The world grows profoundly heavier, and begins to tip and sway. At the same time, the entire room curiously seems brighter, even though nobody’s turned on the lights. He can see everything very clearly as Azul gently takes the box from his limp hands.

“Mnnnnn…” Riddle falls back against Floyd’s lap as Azul folds the little cushion in the lid of the box back, and fishes out a folded slip of paper.

“Did it work?” Jade’s voice sounds distant and echoes strangely, like he’s sitting in the bottom of a well.

“Just barely,” Azul grimaces, taking out his magical pen. The gem is so cloudy with blot that it looks as though he just spent an entire day frantically casting spells. “It’s a very weak contract, but it should hold for a little while. Floyd? Get him to the ocean. The potion is already taking effect.”

Floyd is fiddling with the shoes next to Riddle’s bed with a deeply pleased smile. He picks the knots out of the laces and smooths them flat with a satisfied little pat.

“Jade, he’s wearing them,” he beams up at Jade and Azul. They stare back at him with terse, irritated expressions. “Whaaaaat?”

“Take. Riddle. To. The ocean. You only have an hour before he loses the ability to breathe,” Jade says mildly.

“UGH, fine.”

"Mnnnnnn..." Riddle moans softly as Floyd’s arms wrap around him. A hand presses itself comfortingly to his head, cupping his cheek and cradling his face against Floyd’s chest. He can hear him breathing… his heartbeat…

"Sleep Goldfishie~" Floyd leans down and nuzzles the top of Riddle’s head. Riddle pliantly melts into his arms with a long, soft exhale, and does as he’s told.

#goldfishie #fanfic #twisted wonderland #Floyd Leech #Riddle Rosehearts #alcohol #accidentally drunk #merfolk #aged up characters #romance #floyd x riddle

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dpr-lahore-division · 5 months ago

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With compliments from, The Directorate General Public Relations,

Government of the Punjab, Lahore Ph. 99201390.

No.1666/DN/Umer

HANDOUT (A)

PHA launches botanical garden project in Murree

LAHORE, June 23:

The Parks and Horticulture Authority (PHA) of Lahore has begun work on establishing a cutting-edge botanical garden in the picturesque hill station of Murree, confirmed its director general on Sunday.

Set against the backdrop of the majestic Himalayan foothills, this 10-acre facility will showcase a variety of gardens, including Japanese Sakura and perfume gardens, a giant water lily pond, and a tunnel adorned with Wisteria trees of different varieties and colors, said Muhammad Tahir Wattoo.

This ambitious project, poised to be the country’s first of its kind, will also offer public amenities such as a children’s play area, zip lines, sky bridges, a glow-in-the-dark garden, and dedicated parking, he said.

PHA also operates a botanical garden near Jallo Park in Lahore, covering 80 acres. Around 30 acres feature diverse landscapes and attractions for visitors, including Rose, Bonsai, and Cactus Gardens, a creeper-covered tunnel, a Rhizotron for viewing plant roots, tree houses, gazebos, a Treetop Walkway, and the popular Butterfly House, the DG added.

Highlighting the new garden’s floral diversity, Mr. Wattoo mentioned it would feature dazzling flowers like Tulips, Tiger Lily, and Geranium, typically found in mountainous tropical regions.

He noted Murree’s unique climate accelerates the growth period of Tulips by at least two months compared to urban centers like Lahore, which could help conserve foreign exchange by cultivating the national flower of the Netherlands.

Additionally, PHA plans to host a groundbreaking Tulip exhibition in Lahore this December to celebrate the flower’s rich cultural history.

Mr Wattoo recalled that Tulips originated from lilies in East Asia 21 million years ago, later cultivated in Kazakhstan and used as food by nomads. In Persia from the 11th century, Tulips symbolised the start of spring, celebrated for their beauty in art and poetry long before gaining fame in the Netherlands.

“Visitors can expect to embark on educational journeys through themed gardens, each representing distinct ecosystems from around the globe,” the director general said. He emphasised that the initiative underscores the Punjab government’s commitment to environmental stewardship and sustainable tourism development.

The botanical garden is expected to open its gates to the public later this year, he concluded.

Separately, the PHA has also decorated the main thoroughfares of Lahore, including Jail Road, The Mall, Johar Town, and Canal, with colorful light structures twinkling like stars on the ground. Ring and crescent-shaped light installations positioned along these roads offer a stunning spectacle at night.

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xtruss · 8 months ago

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Bats Are In Trouble. That’s Not good For Anyone Who Likes Mezcal, Rice or Avocado

Some of Our Favorite Foods and Drinks Rely on These Oft-Misunderstood Mammals, Which are Facing Multiple Threats

— By Whitney Bauck | Thursday 21 March 2024

A Mexican long-tongued bat approaches an agave blossom in Tucson, Arizona, in 2006. Photograph: Rolf Nussbaumer/Alamy

If You’ve Ever Enjoyed Coffee ☕️, Tomatoes 🍅, Corn 🌽, Bananas 🍌, Mangoes 🥭, Walnuts, Chocolate 🍫, Tequila 🍺 or Mezcal, You May Just Owe Bats a Thank-You.

While bats are often the subject of fear and scorn – they’re fixtures in Halloween decor and haunted-house imagery, and are frequently portrayed as harbingers of doom – their presence is often a sign of a thriving ecosystem. Some of our favorite food and drinks would be much less plentiful, or even nonexistent, without them.

Bats play a few significant roles in human food systems. Some serve as a form of natural pest control by feeding on insects that can destroy crops like corn and pecans. Others pollinate species like bananas, coconuts, avocados and agave, a role many people associate with bees and butterflies. And some fruit-eating bats help maintain wild plant populations through seed dispersal – think mangoes, cashews, figs and almonds.

Bats fly out of a cave at sunset to feed in Ratchaburi, Thailand, on 12 September 2020. Photograph: Lauren DeCicca/Getty Images

Despite all the ways that bats help ecosystems thrive, “they often get forgotten” in conservation conversations, and in people’s estimations of what it takes to maintain sustainable food systems, said Kristen Lear, who works at Bat Conservation International. Whether it’s because we just don’t notice bats (as nocturnal animals, they’re certainly not easy to observe) or because we tend to associate them with dark and spooky things, bats are rarely championed. But as threats from habitat destruction, disease and climate change mount, it’s time that changed.

No Bats, No Tequila

Most of the time when you order a margarita, you probably aren’t thinking about bats – but maybe you should be. Tequila is made from agave, and agave plants have long relied on bats for both pollination and seed dispersal.

The Mexican long-nosed bat, which has co-evolved with agave for millions of years, is a fuzzy little gray-brown creature that uses its 3in-long tongue to slurp nectar from agave flowers that bloom at night. This migratory species travels from west Texas and south-western New Mexico down into Mexico each year, keeping pace with the blooming periods of agave and flowering cacti.

But as demand for tequila and mezcal – another spirit made from agave – has grown, the plant is increasingly being harvested at scales that put these migratory bats at risk. After having been appreciated in Mexico for hundreds of years, agave-based spirits are becoming increasingly popular abroad, and nowhere are they more sought-after than in the US, where about 80% of the world’s tequila is sold.

“Agave spirits from Mexico are very trendy now. Probably that trend started 10 years ago, but in the last four or five years, it has been intense,” said Diana Pinzón, a forestry engineer who works with small-scale mezcal producers. “It’s a big problem for agaves endemic to Mexico, and for the bats and all the biodiversity around the ecosystems where the agaves grow.”

A bat feeds on agave blooms in Green Valley, Arizona, in 2012. Photograph: Michelle Gilders/Alamy

US thirst for agave-based spirits, and the money that can be made from selling them, is driving growers to harvest at a scale and in a manner that’s not sustainable long-term, according to Pinzón. In many places, agave plants are chopped down before they’ve had time to bloom, leaving bats that rely on the flowers’ nectar with one less food source.

Producers can grow new agave by working with “baby” shoots sent out by parent plants, but without bats cross-pollinating them, the new plants are all clones and lose genetic diversity over time. Pinzón fears this will make the plants less resilient in the face of climate threats and extreme weather.

“These two species evolved together for the last 10m years. If you lose one, you lose the other,” she said.

Pinzón is building a small-label brand called Zinacantán Mezcal with a fourth-generation agave grower who leaves 20% of the crop in the field for the bats, and believes that limiting the amount of production of agave-based spirits is the only path forward for any legitimate claim to sustainability.

“The demand is like cars in the city. If you build a new freeway [to fix traffic], more cars will just end up on the road,” she said. “So the [agave] projects need to put limits and say: ‘OK, we can make that quantity [of spirits] every year and no more.’ We need to recognize and take action to mitigate our ecological impact.”

The Bug-Eaters

Troy Swift has been farming pecans in Texas since 1998, but hadn’t thought about building bat houses near his orchards until recently. He was first inspired when Merlin Tuttle, a legendary bat conservationist, visited his farm and suggested it. “He said: ‘Troy, with the biodiversity you have here, you really might want to consider using bats as part of your pest-control program,’” Swift recalled.

It wasn’t long before Swift started building his own bat houses. Within six months, bats had moved in. He now has 17 bat houses on his property, and is working with Tuttle’s organization to quantify the impact that the bats have on his crop. Together, they’ve used echolocation technology and guano (bat dropping) DNA sampling to learn that there are at least seven species of bats living on Swift’s farm. They also found that over the course of six weeks, the bats had eaten more than 100 species of insects.

A bat flies over water in 2022. Photograph: Paul Colley/Getty Images/iStockphoto

They’re still trying to gather enough data to prove whether or not the bats are helping control the specific pest insects that eat pecans, but having found that the bats eat mosquitoes, flies and pests that bother livestock is already enough to convince Swift that bats have a role to play on farms.

“What we’re trying to do is leverage the use of bats into all agriculture and teach farmers that these bats are really your friends,” Swift said.

Other studies have already concluded that bats are providing farmers free pest-control services, whether they know it or not. Bats save more than $1bn a year in crop damage and pesticide use in the US corn industry, and more than $3bn a year across all agricultural production, according to Jade Florence, a biologist at the US Fish and Wildlife Service, who has worked on bat conservation efforts.

Simply having bats around, even when they’re not feeding, helps keep pests under control, according to Lear of Bat Conservation International. “The mere presence of bats in agricultural fields can actually suppress the activity of those insects,” she said.

How To Help Bats Under Threat

For all the good they do for food systems, bats face numerous threats. “Many species around the world, including here in the US, are undergoing some sort of habitat loss, whether that’s disturbance to their roost sites in caves or mines or trees, or loss of foraging habitat – loss of forests or agricultural areas that have healthy insect populations,” said Lear. Other threats include the extreme weather caused by the climate crisis and diseases like white-nose syndrome, a fungal disease that has decimated North American bat populations.

Bats hang from the ceiling of a tunnel in Tirana, Albania, on 15 March 2023. Photograph: Franc Zhurda/AP

So what can be done? Lear has been working on a project with 60 partners across the US and Mexico to plant 115,000 agave plants in the Mexican long-nosed bats’ migratory path. Her organization recommends exploring nature responsibly (for example, respecting cave closures in order to not expose bat populations to new pathogens), protecting old trees that can serve as bat roosts, keeping cats indoors where they can’t harm bats and providing a water source in arid environments.

People who want to go one step further can build or buy a bat house and plant a bat-friendly garden with some native night-blooming flowers to attract nocturnal insects that bats can feed on. (Besides having a positive ecological benefit, “it’s just fun” having bats around, said Swift, who loves watching them emerge at dusk to hunt insects.)

But Lear said you can also help by doing something even simpler: talking about bats and why we need them. “The more we have people doing that to their friends and families, the more it will take root in their brains,” she said. “Over time, that will help gain public support for bat conservation.”

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