#All those pages to find tsk tsk
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I think what a funny question would be to Professor Weasley, why does the book say that you can learn the Unforgivable Curses?
That is quite the question, isn't it? The book that has everything the students "needs" and then some.
As a somewhat completionist, I wanted to learn them, but my MC is mostly a goody-two-shoes, lol.
That being said...that would make for a funny conversation...
*in the Transfiguration classroom*
Prof. Weasley: How have you been doing with your field guide? Any luck finding some pages?
MC: Well, yes, I've found quite a few already.
Wealsey: Wonderful! It seems you've been doing well in acclimating to this new world.
MC: I have a question, though...
Weasley: Yes?
MC, opens book: In the list of spells for me to learn, I see that I CAN learn the Unforgiveables.
Weasley: Oh dear... I don't know how-
MC: But you want me to completely fill out this book, right?
Weasley: I- that was the intention, yes, but-
MC: Alright! Time to learn some war crimes!
*MC runs out of the classroom*
Weasley:
Weasley: Merlin, what I have done?
#Maybe sharp had added those curses into the book for having the same reasoning as “mad-eye moody”#To learn how the other side fights to know how to combat it#That field guide tho#So frustrating#All those pages to find tsk tsk#I get the “lore” for how all of the inventory and collections and in-game lore are stored in the book but it was still a headache lol#mc probably ran right to Sebastian to learn the unforgivables 🤣#hogwarts legacy mc#matilda weasley#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy incorrect quotes#hogwarts legacy headcanons
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ꨄ︎『Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader』ꨄ︎
Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader
18+ Minors - DNI
Summary: You shouldn't have left your phone out in the open bestie because now Toji just discovered his cute lil gf has a big slutty imagination and that means you're really in for it ❤︎ . CW: daddy/dilf kinks, humiliation, backshots, outdoor sex, toys, voyerism, breeding, overstimulation, lots of mentions of various kinks, light spanking, light spit play, meta concepts WK: 4.2k Black fem reader coded but no descriptors.
A/N: Y’all can blame my forgetting to take my adhd meds and my hangover yesterday for this one. I was laying on my bathroom floor regretting life choices, waiting on McDs Doordash and thinking up outlines for kinktober when this popped into my head. I thought it would be a quick drabble like 1k words to help my writers block with the "Bumpy Ride" Geto fic but lord knows I can't write shit under 3k, who am I foolin? I don’t even have a song inspo for how spontaneous and random this shit was lmfao but I still had to do a graphic for this one regardless (editing those notifications were hell). Edit- I lied the song inspo is: Girls Need Love Remix - Summer Walker ft. Drake.
Enjoy!
Imagine you are dating Toji and he finds out you secretly write Tumblr smut fics on the low.
He comes over to your apartment one night after one of his ‘jobs’ ran late. He has a key, but is wondering where the hell you are as you usually greet him at the door. Going into your bedroom, he finally hears you in adjoining bathroom shower.
Toji begins to strip down in order to join you but he barely has his shirt off before he notices your phone blowing up.
Picking your phone up off the bed he sees 206 notifications from an app called “Tumblr”.
Toji has no fucking clue what the hell a Tumblr is but his jealously starts to soar. He already made your ass go private on Instagram and deleted your Tiktok dances. He got tired of threatening every loser who tried to slide in your DMs or even leave a comment for that matter.
Imagine his surprise when he unlocks your phone (of course he had made you give him the password) and instead he finds out his new vanilla-as-fuck girlfriend is actually a kinky cockwhore who loves writing character x reader stories about fictional men plugging any n' every one of her holes. Sometimes it was multiple men simultaneously, with their massive cocks bullying your readers until you had them crying. Not to mention them fucking you absolutely stupid in every scenario imaginable, with a huge daddy kink/love of dilfs to top it all off.
Y/N clearly has type, Toji thought smugly as he saw some art on your page of these animated dilfs that looked similar to him.
But goddamn, some of this shit even he hasn’t considered doing with you yet. Honestly, he’s been holding himself back for your sake as you had been pretty shy at first. His sweet naive little college girl, yet here you were a filthy closeted slut this entire time.
Tsk, Y/N been holding out on me, eh?
At this point you were probably a bigger freak than he was, he mused with an arched brow as he scrolled through what you called your ‘masterlist’.
It was nothing but a collection of pure unadulterated filth.
More than anything though while going through your Tumblr, Toji is rather impressed at how popular you are. He reads your intro post where you deem yourself the ‘Self-proclaimed DILF Smut Queen’ and an evil grin appears on his face.
Toji abandons his plans to join you in the shower and he waits for you on your bed while he links-surfs through more of your so-called fics, drabbles and thirsts.
You made your own little pictures to go along with your dirty stories too? Aw, what a sneaky yet talented little whore he had.
ꨄ
When you finally exit the shower, wrapped only in a big fluffy white towel and your hair pulled back into a ponytail, you are surprised to see Toji sitting shirtless on your bed.
Toji had promised to be here hours ago. He never even sent a text saying he would be late and you’ve been bored waiting for him all evening so he could give you some of the attention you've been craving.
Your body is already warm from the shower and your legs rub together as you are already feeling a bit horny just seeing him bare chested.
Walking toward the bed you are eager to go pounce on his lap. That is, until you see it’s your phone he’s scrolling through again without your permission.
You loudly sigh which made his head snap up to look at you.
You’re so ready to tell him off again and remind him your Insta is still private and you only use TikTok to mindlessly scroll, not post dance videos anymore when gives you a dangerous look.
You stop dead in your tracks.
Your eyes grow wide as saucers as you recognize what he’s actually looking at when waves your phone around tauntingly in his hands.
No.No.No. Not this. Please god, not this!
But your worst fears are confirmed when he starts reading aloud with a huge shit eating grin.
“You moaned loudly as you threw your head back and bucked against him hungrily. You knew you had to finish quickly unless you wanted his wife to come home to discover the babysitter on top of her husband, making a mess all over his face. His thick tongue lapped into your drenched folds and he spread your puffy pussy lips wider to suck and nip at your swollen clit….”
Your mouth was agape in shock. You were a deer in headlights.
A million and one thoughts raced through your mind as Toji continued on. He swiped over to the next one, this time a daddy and breeding kink drabble.
“Or how ‘bout… ‘Take it all like the good little slut you are for daddy, Y/N’. ‘N-No daddy, please I can’t cum anymore!’ You babbled as you succumbed to the overstimulation of him ruthlessly breeding your stretched cunt and filling you as you squirted on his dick for the fifth time that night…”
You could only continue to stand there and gawk at him. This couldn’t actually be happening to you right now.
“Ya really wrote all this nasty shit, Y/N?” Toji teased while still looking at your phone as he found more of your filthy smut to read aloud to you despite the horrified expression on your face.
You of course had written all that ‘nasty shit’ but most of it was before you started dating him, breaking a long dry spell.
You really weren’t one to run the streets and sleep around but you had some kinky ass fantasies and you not getting any action had you needing to express them somehow.
It’s not like you didn’t eventually plan to open up and share a few of your kinks with Toji down the line. But this was a relatively new relationship and Toji was still a bit intimidating to you. Even though Toji treated you with way more care and concern than he did anyone else you’ve seen him interact with, you still had an insecure fear that he would reject you for a few of your kinks.
Your last boyfriend had called you a weirdo for wanting to call him daddy in bed, so you resolved then to no longer share that part of you.
Hell, not even your IRL friends knew what you got up to. Only the Tumblr followers and moots, who you all shared peaceful anonymity with, were familiar with you and your writing.
Fuck. You had finally found the perfect DILF daddy too, you didn't want to scare him away.
You cursed yourself for even opening Tumblr earlier. You did so out of restlessness waiting on his ass to come over. You just were going to read a few fics before you realized you had a story in your drafts you never posted that just needed to be proofread.
Wanting to kill time you decided to edit and post it on a whim, not knowing the mess it would be getting you into now.
“Earth to, Y/N.” Toji snapped his fingers, interrupting your thoughts.
"Where did my perverted baby’s little mind go off to now, huh? So obsessed with being ruined by imaginary cocks you can’t even respond to your own daddy.”
You could have combusted on the spot as you were sure there was more steam coming off you from embarrassment than from the hot shower you had just taken.
But wait– wtf, your frazzled mind just connected the fact Toji had referred to himself as your daddy.
Those words sinking in made your entire body tingle. Your pulse quickened as you chewed your bottom lip and fidgeted with the edge of your towel.
Was he also into this?
The fact was Toji was very into this and you were about to find out just how much he was.
Enjoying your reactions fully, Toji stood up and made his way toward you with a crazed look on his face.
“You’ve written 96 pieces of filth Y/N…”
He inched closer and you instinctively moved back. Every fiber of your body sensing the danger in front of you. You wondered if this is how the targets of his ‘jobs’ felt when he approached them. Toji never lied to you about what he did for work but you never felt like you were his prey, until now.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl, have you nothing to say for y’erself, princess?”
“I-I-I-”, you stumble over your own words. This was all way too much, way too fast, for you to process in order to say anything coherent back to him.
“I-I-I-” Toji mocked your pathetic tone, an evil grin back on his face.
“Lost your words, Y/N?”
Your body instinctively keeps moving back to keep distance between the two of you as he continues to advance on you.
“But you have so many words to say here, isn’t that right slut?”
Toji toyed with your phone in his hand, spinning it around.
“Slut. That’s what you liked to be called in these stories, eh? The dirty slutty whore with a sloppy cunt just ready to slime all over her daddy’s cock, yeah?”
You gulped as your back hit the glass of your bedroom balcony door with a ‘thud’. You had no more room to run while Toji closes in on you.
He pressed both of his massive hands against the glass as they framed your head, his body hovering over you. You couldn’t help but notice how much bigger than you he was as his frame enveloped you and blocked out the rest of the room. You were trapped.
Too nervous to look him in the eyes, you settled for his chest and Toji’s muscles flexed tantalizingly under your gaze. You lost yourself for a moment as the familiar scent of his heady masculine musk invaded your senses.
Your eyes roamed lower and lower before resting on the bulge beneath his sweats and you softly pant.
“You’re staring at my dick like you want me to stuff that pretty little throat cunny of yours full. You aren’t making good use of your mouth right now anyway Y/N, might as well see how much of me it can fit.”
You looked away from him completely but that only ignites Toji's flames more.
“Look me in the eyes little girl...” Toji’s hand roughly grabbed your jaw and squished your cheeks together as he brought his face closer to yours.
“This shy act won’t cut it anymore, slut.”
His intensity was overwhelming you. Various emotions threaten to bubble to the surface as you squirm in his grasp and your eyes become glossy with tears.
“You didn’t think you finally had a man who would be into this wild ass shit, now did you?”
You wanted to question him further but you felt your gravity shift as the balcony door whipped open behind you. Toji ripped off the towel covering you as you practically tumbled backwards onto the small landing buttass naked.
The crisp fall night air hits your dampened skin giving you goosebumps. You shiver and immediately drop down in a crouch to cover yourself.
“T-Toji!! Are you insane?!” You gasped at him in a hushed tone, your silence finally broken.
Promptly, you scan the seemingly deserted neighborhood streets through the railing for any sign of movement or signal that someone else was outside.
To your relief there was no one in sight.
Thankfully this was a relatively quiet neighborhood and no one was ever really out at this time of night. Nevertheless the shock of it all was sending your nerves into overdrive.
“Toji my ass bitch. It’s daddy to you moving forward–,” he roared jerking you up off the ground, “–and we are going to do every single fucking thing your slutty mind has ever fucking written starting NOW.”
Your eyes darted as around him if you wanted to run back inside but there was no getting past his brutish build as he quickly slammed the door shut, shaking the frame.
Frankly, you didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified as you had written some depraved ass shit over the past year in the midst of your cockdrought. Some of it you had never even seriously thought of actually doing IRL.
“Let’s start right ‘ere, eh? Did you think I wouldn’t notice the description of the place in your little balcony story matched your own?”
Your eyes almost popped out of your skull as you recalled what you wrote in that particular smut fic.
ꨄ
“A-AH! N-NOOO TOJI, W-WAIIIIIIIT!” You whined through gritted teeth.
You tried (and failed) not to release any noises from the unrelenting backshots Toji was currently giving you as he folded you over the balcony railing. The tips of your toes barely rested on the cold floor as your ass bounced back into him and had your clit throbbing when his heavy balls smacked against the sensitive nub.
You had previously only fantasized about Toji being this rough with you, but now that it was actually happening for real you couldn’t think straight. Your lungs burned from sucking in the frosty night air and your cunt pulsed from his thick girth stretching you open.
Shockwaves ran along your body with every cruel thrust of his hips. The force of it reduced your legs to jelly and you were sure you would have collapsed had he not had you suspended like you were, between him and the railing.
Toji seemed both unfazed by the cold and your cries for mercy as he shushed you with a harsh spank. He enjoyed the way your fat ass rippled under his heavy hand in the moonlight so much he gave you a few more for good measure.
Your tits violently swayed over the edge as one of your hands grasped the railing for stability and the other held your phone in front of you. Toji was making you dictate your story for him as he reenacted the play by play assault on your cunt.
The bright screen you held was near blinding to your teary eyes. You mentally cringed as you knew it would act as a shiny beacon to view your activities if anyone walked by the small apartment complex or hell, even stepped out on their balcony.
“T-Toj- Daddy, w-what ‘bout– neigh-h-b-bor-s?”
You managed to croak out over the sloshing of your cunt and slapping sounds of flesh that echoed into the atmosphere everytime he rammed into you. You couldn’t bear to look around to see if any of your neighbors had started to investigate.
“Pshhh, Fuck your neighbors Y/N! They clearly don’t have a cockcrazed baby to please that writes dirty little stories about imaginary men like I do.”
If you didn’t know better you would think he was actually jealous of the DILFs in your stories too from the way he was sadistically fucking into you.
His thrusts caused your icy tears to run down your face and sent your tits bouncing into the wind. Your cold and neglected nipples hardened in the chill to the point of delicious pain.
“B-but- it's too c-cold out D-Daddy!”
“Mmn, yet your pussy feels warm enough, Y/N. Too hot even. This is for your benefit, you know–,” Toji stated matter-of-factly while he increases the speed his pounding into you, “–So you remember you have your own Daddy who will fuck you anyway you want, anytime you want…just, fuck, tell Daddy what his slutty baby needs.”
The way his hips are driving into your core knocks the wind out of you. Toji tightens the already brutal grip on your hips which assists him in pressing deeper into your cunt. The movement has you almost slipping. You nearly drop your phone off the balcony when your toes stepped in the growing pool of shared juices flowing down your legs and collecting at your feet.
“Hold that shit tight for daddy baby, got it? You drop it and we gotta start over, yeah? I’ll make you walk downstairs ass naked just like this to get it too,” Toji breathed out huskily.
You realize you’ve never heard him sound this needy before now.
“What’s next, in y’er lil’ story huh?… Speak up so I can hear it over this messy cunt.”
There was an edge of desperation for you clear in his tone. Although to your dismay it causes your body to gush around him harder meaning you would have to speak up even louder as your pussy squelches grew more vulgar in volume.
You nearly shouted out the next part groaning and mixing in incoherent babbles throughout the smut filled paragraph as Toji doesn't slow to help you. If anything Toji picks up speed and grows even harder inside of you as he's encouraged by his baby's filthy words.
“...H-he- lifts your leg, r-resting your knee on the edge of the bal-c-cony. T-T-The angle allows h-him, fuck, deeper access to your c-cunt. Ah-h-h-a clear view of his c-cock badgering your core f’er a-anyone who happens to p-pass belowwww-ohmygod. Y-you seeeeee s-stars as he callously s-slams into your c-cervix, shitshitshit, n-nearly fa-fa-fucking you off the balcony if not for his s-strong hold on youuuu–ah. Y-you violently t-tremble as you c-cum s-screamiiiiing, not fuckdaddyfuckkkk, caring if your n-neighbors could s-see or h-hear you any l-longer.”
“HA! Is that so–” Toji lifts your leg just like you wrote in your fic, “–guess I am gonna to have to keep fucking this tight cunt until you no longer give a fuck about anything else but this dick, eh?”
You hear what sounds like a door slide open near you and you begin to whine about your neighbors again before Toji jerks your head back by your ponytail to whisper in your ear.
“I wouldn’t worry that nasty, pretty little head of yours about these neighbors babydoll…”
The new angle allows Toji to bury himself deeper into you just like you told in your story and his tip hits your cervix so hard you think he might actually penetrate.
“...if I were you Y/N... I would think about how daddy’s needy lil whore is gonna make it through an entire day of classes tomorrow with clamps on your nipples and a remote control vibrator up your cunt.”
He licked the side of your face and spit in your mouth before carelessly pushing your head back. You loudly moaned as his bruising grip returned to your meaty hips as his nonstop aggressive assault on your cunt proceeds.
You feel yourself getting close, your eyes rolled back into your head and drool seeped down the corners of your mouth. You cursed your weakness for this shit as you felt yourself give into the pleasure. You surprise even yourself as you never actually thought this kinda sex could be so fucking good you wouldn’t care about shit else for real.
“Goddamn mamas, squeezing me so hard–” Toji’s hips snapped into you with every syllable, his voice becoming more animalistic, “–you want me to fill this pussy up? Mmm, I fucking know you do the way she’s milking me. Fuck, might even put a baby in you, give ‘gumi a sibling. We won’t be able to do some of that kinky shit you wrote unless I knock a baby up in this cunt, ya know.”
Of course, Toji being the sexy ass DILF straight out of your dreams would love breeding kinks too.
His ramblings cause you to tighten and clench around him even more. You’ve wanted to beg for him like this since you first started dating. Just thinking of the words spilling out of your mouth nearly pushed you over the edge.
You were so close to release.
“I-Inside me D-Daddy pleasepleaseplease!,” you slobbered out, struggling to make sentences from all the pleasure within you.
“F-fill me– fill me D-Daddy, knock this tight little cunt up, w-want it– want it– w-want it–!!!”
Your voice caught in your throat and you nearly choked once you felt your peak hit. Your pussy sent tremors around his dick as you creamed around him. You can't think of anything else but him inside of you.
You just came but Toji allowed you no rest. He still pummeled inside you as he chased his own high and slurred vulgar curses of praise for his pretty lil’ whore's dirty mind, while planning the next debaucherous smut for you both to reenact.
“Ya think it's too late now f’er prime next day delivery for those toys, baby? Fuck, look that up while y’er still holding that phone.”
You didn’t even realize you still had your phone in your hand but were just thankful you didn’t drop yet. You didn't think it would survive the fall.
Groaning you tried to rally the strength to even lift the phone to face unlock when you locked eyes with someone below. You instantly recognized the person as the elderly woman with the flower garden from down the street.
The old lady had always been very kind to you, making pleasant conversation, offering you fresh flowers for your kitchen and praising you for how reminded her of her own sweet young daughter at your age.
Unfortunately for you both, she was casually walking her two mini poodles when her eyes were affronted with you practically hanging off the balcony. A blissed out expression plastered across your face while Toji held you, battering your slick pussy full of his thick cock.
The old woman’s eyes widened in terror as if she actually witnessed a crime scene as she panicked, yanking her two dogs away swiftly back in the direction of her home. You knew you would have to take the long way home from now on.
Nevertheless Toji, who was none the wiser and wouldn’t give a single fuck regardless, merely continued planning out your next smut fic enactment.
“Nah fuck it, we’re going to the library tomorrow. See how many pages you can read of that dull ass biology book while y’er warming my cock... Tch, or should we do the one where y’er fucking the coach in the men’s locker room, whacha think baby?”
"Hmmmnmmrgh", you could only moan in reply.
You were already near hyperventilating from your own climax, the shame of now having to avoid your neighbor for life and Toji’s fiery body creating a storm of friction clashing with the freezing temperatures.
But your senses were now wholly overloaded once you felt him reach down to pinch and rub at your clit.
“Cum again with Daddy baby, shit, can ya do that f’er me?” Toji sounded like he was close and he slapped your clit even harder causing you to scream out.
Cockdrunk and overstimulated you could no longer communicate as your entire body felt like it was an extension of your pussy. The thick fluids flowing out of your body increased the sizable puddle already at your feet. You utterly surrendered to the feeling and your body wrecked with pleasure electrifying you.
You almost blackout as you feel his cock bust hot seed into your tummy melting your insides and causing you to cum all over again.
"Fuck, that’s it, take it all. Can't wait to see this belly and these tits full mama."
The aftershock of your orgasm feels near endless as Toji continues to fuck thick ropes of his cum into you.
Losing track of time you weren’t sure how long it was before Toji finally pulled out and took you off the railing. Holding on to you so you can balance and turning you to face him he places you down on your unsteady feet. You immediately bury your head into his chest as his heat envelops your cold skin. Your breathing finally starts to calm in his embrace.
“So good f’er daddy babygirl,” he murmurs into your hair, savoring your scent.
“Warm bath, yeah?”
“Sure, but you gotta carry me daddy.”
You yawned while Toji’s already lifting you princess style in his strong arms. You were exposed still in the night but at the same time you have never felt safer.
You curl further into his warmth as he kisses your forehead and finally brings you back inside.
Once inside the bathroom Toji sets you down on the edge of the tub while the water runs and he leaves to grab some fresh towels.
You can’t help but feel euphoric as you smiled to yourself. You are too giddy!
You finally have the DILF daddy you always wanted and could be open about your kinks without any judgment.
However your mood shifts when Toji returns. You give him an incredulous look as you see your pink waterproof vibrator in his hands.
Toji turns it on and saunters over to you, his scar twisted into a devilish smirk.
“95 more fuckfics to go ma’, we don’t have time to waste…”
Fucking hell, you had entirely forgotten about the overstimulation in the bath drabble.
You quiver in both anticipation and distress as you aren’t sure how your completely spent and nearly frozen body is gonna be able to cum four more times tonight.
Could there ever be too much of a good thing?
You weren't sure what those limits were exactly.
“Ya know, Y/N–," Toji started slyly, interrupting your thought.
”If I hit up Shiu and you asked him nicely with that pretty lil' mouth, I’m positive he would be down for some double daddy Eiffel Tower action.”
However from the feral grin on Toji’s face he appeared determined to test those limits with you.
You could thank your Tumblr smut fics for that.
© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.
A/N: I honestly have to say I am a bit impressed with myself as I’ve never finished a story in one day before ever (although it took most of today to proofread and I still think there might be errors soz). Hopefully this is a good sign for powering through those Kinktober fics once classes start up again this Weds. Also If there is any interest possibly a PT 2 after Kinktober featuring a threesome with Shiu at his office.
Edit: errors/grammar fixed as of 9/26.
This one goes out to all of us dilf smut queens who simp Toji ❤︎
Please reblog to have DILF Daddy Toji dick you down, but likes and comments are always appreciated just the same!
#♋︎kizzatcookedthat#♋︎kizzatcooks#jjk x reader#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x you#toji x black reader#jjk x black reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jujutsu toji#toji fushiguro x black reader#meta toji#toji smut#dilf toji#daddy toji
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Omg hiii! I saw that your requests were open again! Please take your time and prioritize your rest, and as always your writing is such a delight to read! I always look forward to your posts! 💖💖💖
That being said, can you please write for a Yuu/reader that has a love for painting (but is shy about showcasing their skill) , and was absolutely taken by Vil's beauty even before they met him? Of course they didn't know that he was a famous actor at first. What if Vil one day finds their sketches and paintings of him after months of knowing him? (hmm preferably after the events of book 6..? 👀)
SO CUTE!!! kicking my legs back and forth at this anonnn
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the picture of vil schoenheit
type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
How were you supposed to know?
It's not like Crowley had given you a guide on Night Raven College or its students (though, wouldn't that have been nice?)
I mean, you had to reminded of Trey's last name not two weeks ago. How were you supposed to know who Vil Schoenheit is?
You'd only seem him at a distance. Passed him by in the halls while he scolded some poor first year. He even looked beautiful when he was angry.
He was just made to be painted.
You didn't show your friends the art. You didn't need to give Ace another reason to tease you, and being a stalker would've really been the cherry on top of your weirdness sundae.
Besides, it was just drawing. Practice! Sketches from a distance, doodles done in the margins of your notes, watercolors and paintings from memory...
It felt familiar. This man, this stranger, someone you hadn't even spoken to, made you feel a little closer to home.
.
"Really, you should have some sort of organizational system,"
Vil leafs through pages of alchemy reports and history of magic homework. "Might I suggest a recycling bin?"
You smile. It's not often that your friend- Vil Schoenheit, that is- has a day off. But today is Saturday, and your room is in desperate need of his touch.
"This is... chaotic," he says, brushing a clump of Grim fur off his shoulder. "And you live like this?"
You shrug. "I try,"
"Well, try no more. We'll have this done before dinner,"
His commitment is touching. Millions of screeching fangirls would give anything just to spend five minutes with Vil, and here he is, tidying your room for you.
It's almost cute. He's humming to himself, hair tied back in a ponytail, in one of your shirts (his are too nice to get dirty), sweeping Grim fur out from under your bed.
"Rook and Epel couldn't make it?" you ask, pretending not to care that it's just the two of you.
"I told them not to bother,"
"Oh?"
Vil tsks. "They would get in the way. We're much more efficient on our own- we work well together, after all,"
That's something he'd said before. You'd always wondered what it meant.
"Right,"
You switch places, going to strip your bed of its sheets for washing while Vil tidies your desk.
Off go the pillow cases, the comforter, the blankets. You're wrestling with your mattress when you notice that he hasn't moved in a while.
He's looking through some of the papers from within the bowels of your desk, smiling to himself, a finger held to his perfect lips.
"What?"
"Hm?" he hums, but he doesn't look at you. "Oh, just... admiring your work. You have quite an eye for detail, have I ever told you that?"
He's being weird. You let go of your bundle of bedding and look at what he's holding, but it's just your sketchbook.
Oh. Oh, no. It's your sketchbook.
"OH! Um, wait-" you say, rushing to his side. "Don't- don't look!"
Vil smirks, and he holds the art over your head. "How unfair. The muse should always be the first to see, you know,"
Damn his height and perfect, slender arms!!! Your eyes widen. "It's not what it looks like! I didn't know you when I did those!"
"Yes, I saw the dates. You could make a career out of admiring me, you know~" he chuckles. "I'd pay for these. I'm sure Rook would like a few, as well."
You're practically melting with embarrassment. "Come on- give it back!"
Seeing your pathetic, embarrassed whining, Vil relents, handing you the sketchbook with an eye-roll.
"What are you ashamed of? They're fine pieces,"
"It's not that," you clutch the book to your chest. "It's just- uh- weird, isn't it?"
Vil scoffs. "I'm weird?"
"NO! I meant- I didn't even know you, and I drew you almost every day- that isn't... strange?"
He takes a moment to study you, your body language, the embarrassed look on your face. From head to toe. And then he smiles, warmly.
"I am in a dorm with Rook. There are very, very few things that I find strange now. You admire me- I'm flattered,"
He gingerly takes sketchbook out of your arms and opens it again. "Not to mention, you have an artistic eye that any director would kill for."
You stand there, a little dumbfounded, but mostly very, very grateful that he's your friend, and that you can laugh about this together.
"I'm... well... thank you," you finally say.
Vil smirks, and pinches your cheek. "You're precious. Now, back to work. I want this room over with. These paintings won't frame themselves, will they?"
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This is more of a Sam and Dean request than a reader and Dean request but what about Sam having a crush on Dean's gf? How would he react to that, I am honestly CRAVING angst and this is the angstiest, is that a word, thing I could think of, I am so sorry if you don't like angst or this makes you uncomfortable!!!
Oh my God. You killed me with this one, hun. 😫😫 I have another SB imagine coming next week, but I thought I'd put out this one for Dean to break it up a bit.
Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,500
Imagine: You are Dean's one exception.
Sam knows it's wrong.
You're smart, with a degree in history that aids them well on hunts.
You're sharp, with a smart mouth that rivals Dean's (and keeps him on his toes).
But you're also kind. You take care of him and Dean with all the feminine grace and care they've never had in their lives.
Sam realizes it when he's up until 3 a.m. in the bunker's War Room. He's sat at the table, researching, eyes bleary, hands cramping from turning pages. And he finds a mug of hot tea sliding next to his idle hand on the table.
You're there with a smile and a hand on his shoulder. "Workin' hard or hardly working?"
Sam clears his throat and nods, chuckles a little. "I'm good." He eyes the mug. "Thanks, though I might need something stronger."
You eye him with gentle reproach. "Nope. Green tea is better for you this late at night. You really should go to sleep, Sam."
Sam tacitly agrees, but only because he can feel the warmth of your hand through his clothing, and it makes his face warmer than the tea. He watches you walk away, notices the curve of your ass in those little shorts. He can imagine your warm hands on his body, caressing him. He can imagine letting his lips graze your skin, exploring you, then devouring you.
And that's when his thoughts stutter to a halt. Sam inwardly cringes.
Despite his sleep-deprived brain, he's reminded that you're traveling down the hall to the room you share with his brother, and for Sam, it's nothing short of torture.
Because he realizes then that he isn't just fond of you. He doesn't love you like an older brother, or even a quasi-brother-in-law. He wants you.
Again, Sam knows it's wrong...but he can't help it. It's one of the saddest cliches in the fucking book. You're his brother's girl, and he wants you for himself.
And it's getting harder to hide it from Dean. They know each other too well -- a result of having no one but each other, but more practically, having lived in such close quarters for so long before they discovered the bunker.
When Sam gets hurt on a hunt, the cut is at a bad angle. He can't quite reach, so you dutifully come around and gently move his hand out of the way to do the stitch yourself. You tsk at him in playful disappointment. "I swear, it's a wonder you and Dean aren't walking patchwork quilts at this point."
Sam chuckles through his nose, wincing when the movement pulls on the stitch. You shoot him a stern look. "Stop moving."
"You're the one making me laugh!" he says, smiling incredulously.
"I don't accept excuses," you retort. "Keep still, please."
"Yes, ma'am," Sam says, his breath hitching for a different reason as he feels your soft hands along his side. He plays it off as pain. "Sorry," you murmur more sincerely. He tells you it's okay. His gaze flicks up, unconsciously finding Dean's face across the room.
He's just finished cleaning a cut on his hand. But he's been watching; Sam can tell. Dean's too perceptive not to notice Sam's discomfort. He probably even knows why. Sam can see a glint of it in Dean's eyes, the stoic front of his face.
"There we go!" you say in satisfaction, and you pat Sam's bare arm. He gives you a wan smile. "Thanks."
"You done, sweetheart?" Dean asks. You get up from your seat by Sam. "What do you need?" you ask.
"You. Come 'ere," he says with a smile, giving you a beckoning finger. "I felt that knot on the back of your head earlier. Think you're slick?"
You huff, but you also smile, in the way you only do for Dean. Sam watches you get up and go to Dean, who touches your cheek, stroking with a thumb first. Then he parts your hair to inspect the back of your head, and you wince a bit. You did fall pretty hard, now that Sam thinks of it. He frowns.
Dean lets out a deep breath. "You've got a nasty bump. You're taking it easy tonight, got it?"
"Yeah? Gonna help me relax?" you whisper. But Sam still hears you, because apparently no one taught you how the hell to whisper.
Dean smirks. "Watch it. I'll think you're flirting with me."
You give him a coy smile as your hand travels up his chest, between the open edges of his plaid shirt, then all the way down, to tease at his belt. "Believe me, when I do, you'll be the first one to know."
Dean's smirk deepens, but his eyes are softer. He closes a hand around yours and brings it to his lips. You lean up and request, wordlessly, for a kiss. Dean obliges you, capturing your lips with a soft kiss.
He eventually breaks from you, only to press his lips to your forehead next, closing his eyes with a sigh. He doesn't like it when you try to hide your injuries from him. You just don't want him to worry so much.
You smile and rest against his chest afterwards. It's clear as day what your heart holds.
It's hard for Sam to watch. His throat constricts, but he takes pains to avert his gaze.
He's so full to the brim with this that he sees no other recourse. He catches Dean alone in the kitchen and tries to make a confession. "Dean, we need to talk."
"Can it wait 'til I'm done?" Dean's plating up some stovetop mac and cheese -- your favorite.
"You're done cooking," Sam points out. Dean looks up at him. "We're doing a little dinner in bed situation. I made her promise to take it easy."
Sam admires the way Dean takes care of you. He really does. But it's also like a small oyster knife twisting in his gut. "Good. I'm glad," is all he says. "Yeah, we can talk later."
"Later" doesn't come for a long time. Weeks, in fact. But every time he tries to broach the problem, Dean finds a way to wiggle out of having the conversation. Always a distraction. A hunt. A fire you almost started in the kitchen. Being "in the middle" of something -- something in the bedroom that you insist needs Dean's immediate attention. Sam gives up for a while after that.
But Winchesters are nothing if not goddamn stubborn. Sam finally catches Dean alone in his room for once. You've gone to the grocery store, leaving the brothers alone in the bunker, but not for long, so Sam needs this chance.
"Dean, can we talk?"
Dean looks up at his brother from where he sits on the edge of his bed. He taps his knee, releases a breath. They both know what this is.
"Are you gonna do more than talk?" Dean asks. It's not what Sam expects. "What?"
"Whatever's on your mind, are you ever gonna do something about it?" Dean asks.
Sam stares back at his brother. He thinks. Hard. He's flipped back and forth for months. If he tells you how he feels, it's over. Things will never be the same between the three of you. It'll confuse you. It might even hurt you. It'll hurt Dean. Sam loves you both, if in very different ways.
So Sam is a bit deflated when he raises his resigned gaze and meets his brother's. "No."
After a moment, Dean nods. "Then we've got nothing to talk about."
But... Sam wants not to want you. Not to love you. Deep, deep down, a large chunk of him feels that he shouldn't have to hide himself. That you have a right to know the depths of what he feels, and what he feels for you.
"I see you're not convinced," Dean says dryly. Sam is silent, until Dean sighs and beckons him over. Sam obliges and sits down next to his older brother, the man he's looked up to (at least metaphorically) his whole life.
"I'd give my life for you. You know that. Right, Sammy?" Dean says. "If I couldn't tear the world apart, I'd lay myself out flat."
Sam sighs. "Dean..." Of fucking course he knows that. Dean already had given his life for him once. Remembering that only adds to Sam's guilt.
Dean meets Sam's gaze directly then. "But this is where I draw the line. She's my line," he says. His face is almost stoic, but his eyes are filled with unyielding fire. "I'm not layin' down on that. Not for you. Not for anyone."
Sam's heart clenches with every kind of pain, but he's also never respected his brother more. He nods. "I get it."
"No, you really fucking don't," Dean says. He's more than serious. "I mean it, Sam. I'll break your damn nose."
After a long moment, Sam nods. He knew Dean loved you. Of course he did. But this is the first time Sam truly understands how deeply. How completely. It's more than jealousy can fathom.
Sam realizes then that he lost, even before he began.
AN: Whew! 😮💨 I got way deeper into this than I expected to. Poor Sam. 😭 But I hope this scratched your angsty itch, my dear!
Read the Sequel
Here's the requested sequel to this: Sam crosses the line.
Also, if you want to read the reverse of this (Dean is in love with Sam's girlfriend): Dean gives you an impossible choice.
Dean Winchester Imagines
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#ask me stuff#dean winchester#dean winchester imagine#being deans one exception#sam in love with deans girlfriend#sam winchester#sam winchester imagine#sam and dean#angst#unrequited love#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x female reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fic#spn#supernatural#zepskies answers
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Ominis & Sebastian Going Down On You
Ominis/GN!reader and Sebastian/GN!reader. all characters aged up, NSFW below the cut ;)
Ominis
♡ "These are so wet already- why don't you just take them off?"
♡ Ominis says this all in the matter-of-fact way of his that would ordinarily be one hell of a mood killer, but presently, with him shirtless and on top of you, you find that you don't mind much at all.
♡ He smiles at you as you obey slowly, slipping your underthings down your legs partially before he takes hold of them with a tsk, sliding them down the rest of the way and discarding them to an unknown corner of the undercroft.
♡ "So beautiful." He'd mutter, half to himself and half to you, reverence thick in his pale eyes as he kisses a neat line down your torso. His hands are gentle and soft as they cup your hips, and Ominis continues to work his way down with his mouth.
♡ He hikes each of your legs over his shoulders, running his tongue through your folds in a dizzyingly slow motion. You exhale a breath you didn't remember holding, hips moving towards the friction but being caught by his patient hands, that guided them back to the ground.
♡ Ominis was determined to take his time with you.
♡ He'd take you in his mouth slowly, savoring the taste and feel of you. No matter how much you bucked and jerked against him he'd maintain his own pace.
♡ "Calm yourself, darling. I'll give you what you want, just wait a moment."
♡ You didn't want to wait a moment. Not with the way his tongue was working at you like magic and the undercroft was spinning and all you could feel was ..
♡ You're finished embarrassingly quickly. Your body reacts too quickly for your brain to catch up as Ominis makes impossibly quick work of you, and then continues.
♡ You sit up, thighs clutching and shaking around his head.
♡ He looked up at you through his mess of blond hair, and somehow, you knew he understood the expression on your face. He smiled into you.
♡ He doesn't stop.
Sebastian
♡ "I know the fastest way to feel better."
♡ You'd just finished telling Sebastian how stressed you were over your schoolwork, pouring over a large textbook at your desk in the room of requirement.
♡ You furrow your eyebrows at the boy who merely smiles back at you wolfishly, before crawling beneath your desk.
♡ You gasp and scoot your chair back to peak down at him. He grins up at you, taking the opportunity to spread your knees apart and make himself comfortable between your legs.
♡ You flush a brilliant red at the sight as your eyes widen. Sebastian was always a very forward man, but this was a whole new level. You swallowed hard.
♡ "Don't look so nervous baby, I don't bite." He purred, leaning his head against the plush of your thigh and looking up at you with those big brown eyes.
♡ "Less you want me to." He said, shooting you a wink. Your breath hitched. He punctuated his words with a gentle kiss to the inner side of your thigh, eyes still boring into yours as he gently nipped at the flesh.
♡ "Well, go on, then. Finish up your work."
♡ You blinked at him as he moved his head forward, pulling the chair legs forward so you could no longer see him. You could feel him, though. That much was certain.
♡ His tongue ran over the cover of your underwear and you felt your stomach do flips. You really, really hoped Deek wasn't coming back any time soon.
♡ You leaned over the desk, trying to support yourself as he continued to work at you.
♡ "Read it." He said, plainly. You turned even redder than you thought possible. You remained quiet for a moment, when teeth clamped down on your thigh once more. You yelped, before beginning to read the chapter you had open aloud.
♡ As soon as he returned to what he was doing you began stumbling over your words, to which he only seemed to move faster.
♡ By the time he'd had his way with you the first time, you'd completed two pages.
♡ Luckily, there was a whole chapter left.
#cedric diggory#draco malfoy#enzo berkshire#fred weasley#george weasley#harry potter smut#ron weasley#smut imagines#tom riddle#x reader smut#ominis gaunt#sebastian sallow
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Diversion - SCB - 1/?
pairing: officer changbin x femreader (korean native)
genre: angst, crime, s2l, eventual smut
word count: 4k
trigger warnings for this chapter only: alcohol (mostly takes place at a bar)
rating: 18+/M
summary: Set a year after the events of Catalyst, officer seo visits Jeju to see old friends and get away from the city. He meets a local and finds out that someone can see everything he's hiding.
a/n: this is changbin from my hyunjin mafia story catalyst, you don't have to have read that to understand this story. anyway changbin was so lovely whenever he was on the page that i wanted to write him in his own story. this is also a longer piece than most of what i write. i'm challenging myself to expand and detail and tell a slower story. so, slow burn warning here. notes at the end as well.
series masterlist
Chapter One
It’s an unearthly quiet. You can hear the waves, your steps upon the sand, even the snuffling sound Amadeus makes when he’s sure he’s found an errant crab. But other than that, even the cars seem to be quiet today.
November in Jeju is oddly one of your favorites. Maybe it’s a bit elitist of you, but not having your home overrun with tourists seeking sun, beach, and tangerines is a welcome reprieve. Your very livelihood depends on those tourists to be sure, but when the weather grows colder, the masses go back to their regular lives and you are content to have the space and the quiet again. The air smells of salt and cold, and you tug your scarf around your face again as the wind likes to play with it.
Amadeus prefers the winter months as well. His coat is well-suited for the chill. You once gave him a shave to survive the summer, but he’d looked undignified and you knew that he was disappointed in you for even making that decision. His fur grew back, and you make sure he has plenty of water during those hot months and your walks together are before the sun comes up and late into the night so you both can beat the heat.
He rubs against your leg as though he knows you’re thinking of him (he probably does) and it surprises you so much that you stumble, almost dropping your bag.
You tsk at him but his querlous look tells you that it’s hardly his fault that you can’t be trusted to walk firmly.
He really can be such a judgmental soul.
“Don’t give me that look. You didn’t have to come.”
He snorts derisively and continues leading the way. You readjust your bag to your other shoulder, wincing at the knot at your shoulder blade that is definitely in need of some focus and pampering.
Maybe you spent a bit too much time at your stove again.
But you hurry to keep up with the sure-footed canine in front of you. He leaves the sand and the rocks to the road, ever mindful of the few cars that zoom by. You catch up with him, bending down to brush some of the sand from his ears and head as you both wait to cross toward town. He lets you before shaking you off and continuing on.
Muddy Water is situated at an ideal spot for a local bar: outskirts of the picturesque village, only meters from the ocean. It’s set in a curve of the island that protects from the most severe weather.
You glance at the sky, though the overcast day means it’s hard to pinpoint the exact location of the sun.
It’s early for a drink, but Muddy Water opens for late lunch until one in the morning, though often winter influences all small business owners to close early. The locals aren’t usually going to be up partying past ten.
Amadeus pads up the stoop to the front doors and then settles to the left side. He rests his head on his front paws, only raising his head once you’re at the doors.
“I’ll let him know you’re here too.”
You swear he smiles at the knowledge he’ll probably get fed something all too good for a dog.
You enter and blink a few times as the brightness of the winter day fades to the ambient lighting of the bar.
You hear your name before you see Yena behind the long bar, waving at you. You smile at the ever-bright and cheerful bartender. Woodz (which he prefers to be called as his music career slowly grows) is on the other end, serving the local solicitor and realtor. You nod your head at the two men, but don’t go anywhere near them.
The way they run their businesses is very different than how you run yours.
“What’s in your bag of goodies?” Yena asks with delight. You laugh as you take a seat on the stool right across from where she stands. She sets down a glass of water, before leaning against the smooth, worn wood of the bar. “We’re almost out of–”
You set two sealed jars on the bar, the thunking sound a little more aggressive than the pints of beer being consumed on the other end.
“You knew?”
You could let her think that you had some kind of sixth sense about your wares and the needs of clients, but…
“Your boss let me know.”
Yena looks a little disappointed that you didn’t just suss that out of the air. She takes the two jars and places them on the shelf next to a few bottles of red wine that Muddy Water likes to carry.
“Speaking of, is your boss around?”
Yena turns back to you with a small knowing grin. You raise your eyebrows in question as she pulls two empty jars and sets them before you. You appreciate that the bar remembers to save them once they’re empty.
“She’s in the office.”
“Working?”
Yena usually isn’t this cryptic. It’s not like you have major plans later, but you don’t like to leave your assistant that long in the shop alone.
“With her other bartender.”
Now you understand the knowing smile. You sigh and rest your chin in your hand.
“I would hate to interrupt anything between the two of them. But they might just be working?”
Yena snorts, a bit more high-pitched and cute than Amadeus’s.
“You don’t have to see his heart eyes all the time, every time he looks at her.”
“Jealous?”
“Yes.” Yena purses her lips. “Not really of him, well, I mean, look at him.”
Yes, you’ve looked.
“But more just having someone that gone over you, you know?”
Yena didn’t grow up here, but she has been around for almost a decade. It’s only since she’s been at the bar that you’ve gotten to know her better. You know more about her relationships than you want, but that was kinda what people did…they shared a lot with you.
“I think Lee Chan very much was ‘that gone’ over you.”
She pouts. “You’re probably right. I think I screwed that one up a little too well.” She brushes it off with a shake of her head. “What can I get you to drink? While you’re waiting for our bosslady?”
You eye the shelves like you always do, looking for something that sparks. Muddy Water has an array of liquors, though it’s not posh by any means. You don’t mind that as a good spirit doesn’t require a huge price tag most of the time.
“Whatever well bourbon you have. Maybe cognac too?”
Yena shakes her head. “You always want the cheapest stuff.”
“If it tastes good with the cheapest stuff, it’ll taste good with the most expensive.” You aren’t a mixologist by any means, and Muddy Water is more for the beer and soju crowd; but it’s a fun thing that you and the owner have come up with in the short time she’s been on the island.
Yena sets an empty glass, a tumbler with about two fingers of cognac and another similar amount of bourbon. You pull out two small jars from your own bag, setting them next to the glasses. Yena reaches for one.
“Can I?”
You nod, taking the other and pulling out the cork. You smell it, picking up on the peppercorns and vanilla. You take the cognac and sniff it as well. Your nose wrinkles and you set it down. You take the bourbon and do the same.
Better.
“Is it chai?” Yena asks of the other jar. “You can just make chai?”
You don’t answer her verbally, but lift up one eyebrow. She shrugs.
“What you do is like magic.”
“Hardly,” you answer, before tipping a little of the jar you hold into the bourbon. Precise measurements will come later. Right now, you just need to see if it complements each other. You swirl the dark liquid in the glass and smell it again. You offer it to Yena.
“It smells spicy.”
You nod, before taking back the glass and taking a tiny sip. The face you make pulls a laugh from your observer.
“Not good?”
“No, just not right.” You sip it again, ready for the harsh bite and let it linger on your tongue. “It needs muting.”
“Water?”
“Milk, or your alternate non-dairy option.”
Yena doesn’t look convinced but she goes to grab your request from the prep fridge opposite the realtor and solicitor. You watch as the two men, of a certain age, eyeball the younger bartender with lascivious intent. The music playing in Muddy Water at this early hour is softer than the nightly tunes, often live from local musicians, so the men hear your throat clearing very well.
They both look over, realize that it’s you and the mix of disgust and disdain pleases you almost as much as the scent of the mixed bourbon in front of you. They look away, back toward each other and continue their oh so important business conversation.
Yena returns with the milk carton and sets it amongst your glasses. You pour in about a finger, swirl yet again.
“Any way of heating up with milk prior to pouring?” you ask as you take another sip. Closer. The mellow combination of flavors works nicely.
“This isn’t a coffee shop. We have a microwave.”
That hurts your very soul.
“Yena, what are you–” The voice interrupts itself as you make out Muddy Water’s owner coming from the back of the building. Her hair is in mild disarray, evidence to Yena earlier supposition about the owner and still absent bartender. “Eonnie!”
You greet her with a grin. “Busy doing paperwork, then?”
The absent bartender, Hyunjin, also enters from the back, his hair slightly more in place, but it’s close. He also smiles when he sees you.
“Is he here?” he asks and you can’t be bothered that he doesn’t actual greet you.
“He’s outside. Waiting for you.”
Hyunjin is all glee as he grabs the designated bowl behind the bar, and a small canister that you know houses dog treats. He’s already calling through the front doors to your companion. You can almost hear the thumping of Amadeus’s tail against the wooden porch.
Yena brings the conversation back to what you two were up to. “She wants us to heat the milk. I don’t think we can. Unless we do it in the kitchen?”
You offer the mixed glass to her. You know her palate is far more advanced than Yena’s so as much as you like the young bartender, it’s the owner’s thoughts you really want to hear.
She sips it much like you did, very little and just lets it sit on her tongue for a few seconds.
“Yes, warmed,” she says before taking another sip. “And a little sweet, I think. Just a little simple…” She looks around and grabs the bottle of clear liquid. She tilts it in for one count. You know from your time with her that it’s equal to about a fourth of an ounce. She sips it again. Adds more.
Then offers it back to you.
The sweet does round it out nicely.
“What is the tea?” she asks you as you nod your approval.
“Rooibos. It’s dark like a black tea, but no caffeine. This would be a good, before sleep kind of drink. I added peppercorns and vanilla.” You touch the small jar, and cork it before pushing it over. “I was thinking of more wintery type flavors and came up with this and the other.”
Yena has gotten bored, you think, and walked down to another patron, who seems far less concerning than the ‘upstanding’ citizens of earlier.
“What’s the other?”
You uncork it and offer it to her.
“Smells like chai.”
“It is. Or my version of it.” You take it back before administering a tiny amount to cognac. You’ve probably already been here longer than you thought, but it’s nice at this hour, before the after supper and after work people drift in like Muddy Water is a homing beacon. You taste the new mix and wrinkle your nose.
She takes it from you. Her expression is more thoughtful than yours at first drink.
“Needs…” She moves to the back of the bar. “What’s in it exactly?”
“Cardamom, fennel, black tea.”
She spins around with a ‘eureka’ type grin and brings over a bottle of bitters.
“I have cardamom bitters.” She dispenses three drops of the bitter and takes another taste. “That helps.” She pushes it to you as she goes back to the bar, looking among the many additions and cordials, and spirits. “What about almond?”
“Maybe. But not amoretto. I think that might overpower.”
She nods without looking back at you. You smell it again.
“Citrus too.”
She brings over a bottle of orgeat and bottles of lemon and lime juice. She puts in one count of the orgeat and then holds the two bottles of juices, looking at you for direction.
“Lemon I think.”
“I think the same,” she concurs and adds two counts. She stirs it with a bar spoon and tries it yet again.
You go to try it but she stops you.
“Hold on.”
It’s fun to watch someone who enjoys their work. You wonder if anyone stopping by your shop would think the same of you, though they don’t get to see the experimentation as much, just the results on shelves for sale.
“What are you adding?”
“Egg white.”
You know that’s common in cocktails, but the idea still throws you. She shakes it together without ice, then adds ice, shakes and strains it back into the same glass. She hands it to you for first taste.
You sniff it before trying.
“It has such a nice froth.”
“That’s the egg whites.” She grins widely. “So yeah?”
“I think so. Maybe something interesting for a garnish, but I’ll leave that to you and your experts.”
She chuckles before trying the cocktail herself. “Mmmm. Yeah. I like it.” She points to the bottles. “How much?”
“Oh…you can price the drinks. I need to figure out cost and supply. I was just daydreaming in my kitchen.”
The door opens and Hyunjin returns.
“I think he’s ready to go home,” he tells you as he passes by to go behind the bar where his partner is. He pauses at the drinks. “New?”
She eagerly offers them both to him, explaining each. He sips both, enjoying both sets of flavors, but you notice how he watches her as she continues to suggest maybe a food pairing with the chai cognac. His eyes are incredibly fond and warm.
People in love are both beautiful and annoying.
“He’s right,” you interrupt. “Amadeus and I should probably head back. Let me know final thoughts, okay?” You start to stand up from the bar stool when the door opens again.
“You know there’s a wolf outside, right?”
The voice is unfamiliar and highly concerned, and the brightness of the outside light let in means you can’t see the newcomer for several seconds. It’s a voice with a raspy quality, like the beginnings of winter have already dried out his throat.
“Seo?” is the first response. From Hyunjin who with Muddy Water’s owner are staring at the person like he’s a ghost.
He doesn’t seem ghost-like. He seems incredibly solid. Broad in the shoulders, you get the sense that he carries more than just his own physical weight. It’s an immediate thought, one you have knowing you know nothing about this person, but it’s there nonetheless.
“Changbin,” she says before moving out from behind the bar to walk up to him. The man’s face softens as she gets close, a relaxing of his entire posture.
“Hey little Park.”
She hugs him, tight and without any sort of hesitation. You relax as well, not even realizing that his intrusion made you watchful, tense.
“What are you doing here?” she asks as she lets go of him. You watch as Hyunjin also rounds the bar to greet the stranger.
You take their distraction as a blessing, and slip by the three as they chat quietly. You feel his eyes swept over you, an awareness that you are there and leaving.
Amadeus is up on all fours when you get outside.
“Did you scare him?” you ask before starting down the steps, back the way you came. Amadeus gives no clear answer, but you think your companion trots a little too giddily.
—
It’s a relief to see her like this. Still in her element, but beyond bright, healthy and happy. Changbin glances up to see Hyunjin eyeing him in a very familiar way: amiable, but certainly skeptical.
It’s been awhile, but Hwang hasn’t lost his syndicate instincts. Changbin wouldn’t expect him to.
“I’m on vacation,” he replies to her question, focusing back on the girl he’s known since middle school. When he found himself running alongside the rest of them: Lee, Bang, and Han. The rest had been around the syndicate for awhile, families intertwined, but Changbin just stumbled into their world. “I’ve accrued a bit too much time off, so they’re kinda forcing me to get lost.” He hopes his smile covers anything that might make either of them suspicious. “And well, Jeju is where my favorite Park lives. Wanted to make sure he,” he nods at Hyunjin, “was treating you right.”
Even being on the outskirts of the organization, it was obvious to him how Hwang felt about the former president’s daughter. It was after the fact that Hwang stepped down that Changbin found out about it, but it hadn’t taken much of his investigative skills to find where the two ended up.
Which concerned him.
“Knew you weren’t here to see me,” Hwang retorts, tugging her close to his side.
“Sure? You’ve always been pretty,” Changbin responds with a wink at the taller man. “Kinda missed that face.”
He gets an exasperated sigh and eye-roll, which tells him that Hwang has definitely eased a little. Which is what Changbin needs right now.
She grabs him by the wrist, leading him to the bar. He follows, looking around, taking in the patrons, the set-up. It’s very different than Circus in Busan, but the vibe still feels like the two of them, just planted elsewhere.
He sits on a stool as she sits next to him, Hwang stealing around the bar.
“Beer?”
“Is no one really concerned about the wolf outside?” Jeju has natural wildlife, of course, but a wolf was not something Changbin, nor any Korean he guessed, expected to run into.
“Oh!” She laughs and looks about. “I guess she left. It’s her dog.”
When he’d entered there had been only one other woman that wasn’t his old friend, or the young bartender at the far end of the bar. She’d swept by him in the midst of his reunion and he’d noticed. Mostly due to the fact that she wore a modernized, simple hanbok - traditional wear in a place that felt all but traditional.
“Her dog?” Changbin repeated. “It was a wolf.”
She looks at Hwang. “Is it a wolf?”
“I’ve never asked,” he replies, setting out a glass of water for Changbin. “He could be.”
“His name is Amadeus and Hyunjin is half in love with him.”
There’s a scoff, but Hwang nods in agreement. “Beer?” he asks Changbin. “Or are you on–”
Changbin shakes his head immediately. He doesn’t want people to know what he does for a living. People treat you one way when they believe you’re just a regular person. They treat you another way when they know you’re a cop.
“Just whatever you have on tap,” Changbin says before looking back at the woman next to him. “Amadeus…Like Mozart? Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart?”
Her eyes widen. “Oh my god, I never even thought of that.” She glances at Hyunjin who places two pints on the bar. “Did you know that?”
“I mean, kinda, but I wasn’t thinking Wolfgang…like wolf.” He grins. “Sounds like her, though.”
Changbin shakes his head at their agreement, intrigued by this detour of conversation, but knowing he needs to stay on track. He takes a sip of the pint, the bitter flavor doing wonders for his exhaustion. It’s not a long trip from Busan to Jeju, but his fatigue has more to do with what came before he left.
“How….” she begins but falters for a second, glancing around at the space as though someone is paying attention, like someone could hear. “How is everyone?”
Changbin takes another swallow of beer. He knew she’d ask, or one of them would. Her trepidation on talking about it is a stark reminder that there is freedom for her and Hwang, but it doesn’t erase the past.
He nods. “Good.” He smiles at her as warmly as possible. “Pretty much the same. But we should have dinner or something if you want details.” Private. Safe.
Surely Jeju has safe places to discuss dodgy histories.
She nods, absorbing what he isn’t saying. He misses the openness of her expression just moments before. Hwang watches her before looking at Changbin. He nods too, unspoken understanding. As he goes to tend to another customer, Changbin sees Hwang rub his arm absently. Despite the long shirt as it is drifting into winter, Changbin knows what is there.
Or what was there.
His own arm itches as though it reflects Hwang’s, but Changbin dismisses any physical action to soothe it. It’s in his head.
She reaches out to place her hand on his forearm. He meets her eyes.
“I’ve missed you.”
It’s dark in the bar and he’s grateful because he knows he blushes at her words and sincerity. Doesn’t matter that it was a brief and superficial crush, the daughter of his first boss would always be special to him.
He raises his eyebrows to deflect. “Yeah? Hwang that unsatisfying?”
She pinches him and he yelps, which just makes her laugh. It’s nice to hear her laugh. Those last weeks and days before she left had dimmed her brightness. She looks and sounds like she used to. Before the loss of her father. Before everything had gone down with Bobby.
He stiffens at the reminder, even if it’s only in his head and she’s not in there, thank god.
“He came for me,” she says as softly as someone can in a bar before it gets hit with the after-work crowd. “He left–” she makes a hand gesture that would mean nothing, but he knows. “For me.”
When had he become confidante?
“He beat me to it.”
She rolls her eyes, their banter back in play. He nurses his beer as she regales him of what he’s missed since she left; mostly about the bar and this village. He’s grinning and chuckling, but some part of him still prods at him about why he’s here.
And why he isn’t telling her.
It’s dinner time and they make plans to meet up tomorrow for a more personal chat. Hwang comes by to reassure that he’s coming too. He’s no threat, Hwang knows this, but it’s too easy to needle the other, especially about her, so Changbin lets out a long-suffering sigh as he finishes his beer.
As he gets up to head back to his hotel room, he notices the glasses of some mixed something. He points to them.
“Oh! You should try.”
“Are you poisoning me?”
“Not yet.”
He’s still cautious when he tries one. It’s sweeter than he tends to, but the spice of it is nice. He tries the other; cognac isn’t something he’s had since he was sixteen and wanted to drink whatever he could get his underage hands on.
“Not bad.”
She goes on to explain what is in the two drinks, including the other woman’s role in concocting.
“The woman with the wolf?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, her.”
Changbin sips the first drink again. “It’s pretty good.”
“She owns the tea shop about a kilometer from here. I mean, it’s the only tea shop within like fifty kilometers. Unless you buy your tea at the grocer like a peasant.”
He chuckles at her words, gives her a quick ‘see you later’ hug and heads back out. He looks over to where he first saw the wolf-or-dog before he jogs down the steps to the street and sidewalk. He can hear the ocean as he reminds himself how to get back to his hotel.
The people milling about, both on foot and in car seem like locals. At this point in the year, it’s unlikely many main-landers would venture to the small island.
As Changbin walks along the road, hands deep in his pockets, he hopes his assumption is true. And if anyone does show up, it’ll be obvious.
Away from their natural habitat, the underbelly of Busan would stick out. And he could neutralize the threat before it ever got near Muddy Water’s owner and her partner, formerly of the Park Syndicate.
That’s why he was here.
--
a/n 2: the two drinks in this chapter are not mine. found here and here.
--
(c) yoongihan 2024. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.
#skz smut#changbin smut#stray kids smut#ksmutsociety#straykidsland#changbin x y/n#changbin x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#changbin x you#changbin fluff#stray kids fluff#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic#changbin fanfic#changbin drabbles#kpop smut#kpop imagines#stray kids scenarios#fic: diversion#my writing
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Underground Alliance
.Chapter Two.
Haha, finally back with another chapter! I initially planned to post this on Sept 30th, but got postpone with two family members hospitalized weeks back to back. Finally managed to add the finishing touches and excited to post this chapter.
This story is purely written with RE 2 (Remake) Leon in mind. Yes, my puppy dog boy is all the focus in this one.
Takes place in 1999, Racoon City is not in flames yet!
Yes, I'm terrible at uploading fast, but believe me when I will finish this with the other one!
Loosely based on the first Fast and the Furious movie with real life stories mixed in from my childhood.
I have not decided yet on the rating but expect: Car Sex, Betrayal, Penetrative Sex, Manipulation (sorta), Public Sex, Violence... And more to come!
Summary
After a series of recent hijackings of Umbrella equipment, Leon Kennedy is sent undercover in the street racing scene to find a notorious perpetrator named to be orchestrating these attacks. Leon struggles with his visage as a street racer while upholding his own morals as a police officer. As a young street racer, you aspire to reign and topple the influence of a major corporation that has its clutches on Raccoon City. Yet, plans are thwarted when an ambitious blonde tries to join the ranks of the most skilled racer.
Please enjoy and comment your thoughts~ Anisssa أَنِيْسَة
Midnight Pretender
All eyes observed in silent awe between the victor and the poor soul about to forfeit his vehicle. For spectators, the sight was nothing new regarding those who challenged the notorious El Jefe, the aftermath of the race providing a performance worth witnessing. When El Jefe crosses that finish line, the contender loses their shit along with their car. So here the people surround the duo under the brink of night to witness this cocky kid surrender a rare car.
As the crowd meddles around the two opposing vehicles, the weight of defeat anchors Leon’s feet beside the Skyline. The Supra’s car door widens, and two leather-heeled boots settle on the pavement. Beyond the glimpse of boots, Leon peers at the woman steadily sauntering around the R34. Each step of your heels echoes as you inspect the Skyline, leaving a streak upon the carbon fiber hood with your pointer finger. A pornographic moan emits from your mouth and you bite your bottom cherry-colored lip.
“Never thought I would ever see one of these in the flesh, only on the front cover page of those Ricer magazines…” Your voice interrupts the silence, flickering your eyes to his blue orbs once you are directly in front of the blonde. Despite the intimidating exterior you parade, Leon heeds your height as he peers down at you. From the tight-laced skirt and fur-lined jacket that hugged your figure, it was evident that you flaunted yourself to an elevated standard compared to the other women here.
While you stand before the blonde, Leon’s breath stifles as the adrenaline from the race continues to brew within his body. The night air was noticeably brisk, the breeze gently flaring your hair along with it. Never would Leon have suspected El Jefe to be a woman. But those thoughts are temporarily suppressed when he notices your head shake at the sight of him and your lips part to deliver several tsks. If he had not been in this peculiar situation, he would have found your demeanor exotic, not an individual scrutinized before a dubious jury.
“Every advantage was literally in your hands, yet… you still managed to lose this race. Can’t say I’m not disappointed though…” There was a distinct conviction in your voice, and he finally understood why the people were drawn to the enigmatic facade you presented. El Jefe was their source of light in the night, and they were moths entranced.
“ I almost had you,” Leon rebuttals immediately, but you can hear the quiver in his voice.
“Almost does not win a race. Do you understand these cars are not toys for boys like you?”
The question lingers, and everyone erupts in “Ooo” and “Dayummm” at the diss you delivered. It's apparent that Leon did not belong there, and you were the one to ensure he understood that notion. Such mockery provokes the blonde to grimace and shift where he stands, although Leon stays in place.
A grin forms on your lips, yet Leon knows better that the expression was by no means cordial. Almost like a predator stalking prey, your eyes bore into his cobalt blues and you lean your torso to his chest.
“What’s your name?”
The proximity evokes Leon to bend slightly back from your intrusive presence, the heat emitting from your body was somehow enticing in this chilly night. A pink hue blooms on his cheeks while heat consumes his entire face. Leon was stupefied, inhaling your leather and floral mixed scent that he staggered to speak a proper word. With several blinks and an agape mouth, he eventually regains his composure with firm lips.
“Leon… Leon Santoro.” The name leaves the tip of his tongue like a foreign taste as he unveils his identity before everyone.
Murmurs resonate across the crowd, and some women develop an interest in the newcomer despite his defeat. However, your eyebrows pique at the articulation of his name, repeating it in a soundless whisper.
“Hmm? Is that Italian or some shit?” You sneer, retreating your body away from the blonde to return your attention to the R34. “Well, Leon Santoro… you can tell your daddy that you just lost this car.” With a hand on the hood, a handprint manifests on the carbon fiber material as if you were marking territory on the car.
Leon’s head shook in opposition to your decree, bewildered at the incivility in your nature. “Wait a damn minute! I’m not handing over this car…” He protested, slamming his hand on the hood of the car beside yours. Several men instantly step closer to the duo in the scenario that Leon becomes physical with you.
Although, your raised hand halts their movement as chuckles escape your mouth. Even though Leon was taller, nothing was intimidating about the blond. “So cute… I didn’t know you could bark!”
Your hand retracts from the hood of the Skyline. For the time being, there is a need to build distance from Leon. “My dear friend, Julio, did warn you of the conditions of the race. You lost, this car compensates for my time. You don’t deserve this car with the way you manhandle it. Poor ass gear shifting, I would be surprised if you didn’t fuck up the transmission. Now surrender that pink slip…”
Patience was visibly waning with how your eyes narrowed and your lips pursed. Leon then notices your arm extend your palm out to him as if you outrightly expect him to hand you the title of the R34 right then and there. Every word spoken was accurate, but Leon was reluctant to admit his prior agreement to the terms. His teeth bit the inside of his cheek while he hesitantly removed his hand from the hood.
If this was the means to establish a foundation of trust with El Jefe, Leon needed to keep his cool in front of you. “Fine. You’re right, my apologies. I will hand over the title to you. Oh, but how will I get home from here?” Leon blurts out in amusement, obviously laced with a hint. This insolent asshole had the nerve to plaster a cheeky grin on his face.
To his question, you scoff shrugging your shoulders. “That’s something for you to figure out, pretty boy.”
Pretty boy. That was new among the other annoying nicknames he was bestowed.
Although a bystander attentive to the police scanner hears the female dispatcher distinctively speak, “Reported street racing East of Circular River along industrial factories…”
“Shit! Guys! Cops incoming!” On cue, sirens blared from the distance while red and white lights danced simultaneously on the factory buildings in their attempt to block the racers. The party was over, and everyone dispersed to their respective vehicles in mass panic. Roars of engines and tire screeches deafen over the police sirens as cars drive in all directions to evade arrest.
The chaotic scene amplifies with every passing second—a sea of modded cars chased by police vehicles. Even with the impending risk of arrest, your eyes glare at the blonde beside the Skyline. Due to the circumstances, only a bittersweet departure from the vehicle allowed the prospect of fleeing the scene. Sounds of sirens nudge your boots to circle Leon’s car to your Supra, feeling a tinge of panic until you open the driver’s door and secure yourself inside. When the car’s window slips fully down, you offer the blonde one last glare before the Supra veers off in haste.
Now alone amidst the mayhem, Leon retreats inside the Skyline and hastily turns the ignition key, restoring life to the machine. Leon watches in trepidation, witnessing how the Supra interweaves through police cars attempting to block it. Yet, before Leon could comprehend what he perceived, another car suddenly collided with the side of the Supra. Even amongst the overwhelming sounds, tire screeches and glass breaking reach his ears. The Supra skids to the side from the impact, eventually ceasing movements entirely. Despite the other car’s front being mangled, the person reverses and speeds off without regard to the condition of the person inside the Supra. The air hazes when smoke releases from the car.
A maelstrom of conflicting emotions brews within Leon, a testament when he notices your body slumped against the wheel. He feigned to vanish from the area to avoid blowing his cover or help you. His passion for valuing human life overrides any lingering conflicting thought, eliciting him to simply shift gears and drift near the Supra. You were his mission after all…
Once Leon bursts the driver’s door open, his eyes glance down at a puddle of leaking oil on the pavement from the Supra and the motionless body in the driver’s seat. The passenger side of the Supra was utterly caved in from the side. “Jefe…” He utters yet no answer is reciprocated from you. His hands reach inside the open window to unlock the driver’s door from inside before nearly ripping it open. Knocked out and unconscious, the blonde was relieved to glimpse breaths from your mouth.
“Holy fuck…” Leon's breath hitches at the sight of your forehead. Blood seeps from a wide gash, an open wound that he would assume required medical attention. Faint sirens became notable, prompting the Rookie to concentrate on the situation at hand. There was no time, Leon repositioned your limp body on the car seat. His hands grab at your supple flesh to carry you bridal style to the passenger seat of the Skyline. Leon internally thanked the physical training from when he was at the police academy, molding his strength to carry wanted criminals. Once placed on the seat, Leon secured your body with a snap of the seat belt. Fortunately for you both, Leon evades the police and speeds to a nearby park.
A groan emits from your lips, and your hand ghosts over the searing wound. The sudden noise prompts Leon to momentarily veer his concentration from the road to the woman in the passenger seat.
“Hey! Are you alright?”
Instead of an immediate response, another groan sounds from your lips. “Oh God, please shut up. Your voice is giving me a headache…”
“Damn, why are you so rude? I’m just wanting to help you,” Leon mutters, letting out a huff as he swerves the Nissan into the dark parking lot of the park.
Except for Leon’s car, the area was desolate and lacked light, a perfect location to murder someone. No soul in sight, maybe karma caught up and Leon was sent as your executioner. “Guess we’re here to finish me off? Huh?” You question him in assurance while your eyes examine the wooded area. Raccoon Park.
Although tempted to respond “yes” to your paranoid antics, Leon held his tongue. “No, you think I saved your ass to bring you here? It would have been easier to have left you for the cops…”
That fight in you dwindled, thoughts meddling that Leon spared you from the mercy of the police. As much as you desired to continue your banter with the blonde, the principal brought the prospect to mind. Nonetheless, your lips pursed while you maintained an averted gaze from those damn blue eyes.
“Thank you…” The words of gratitude were whispered under your breath, conceding to his endeavors.
Without warning, Leon’s fingers suddenly directs your chin to face him, his eyes drawn to inspect the gash on your forehead. “That’s a nasty wound… maybe I should drive you to the hospital. It’s swelling,” He relents, his blue orbs flicking to your eyes.
“No thanks,” You retorted, pushing his hand from your chin, and shifting away from him. “I’m starving…” You admit, patting the fabric on your stomach.
“Jefe… you need medical attention. You were just in a serious car wreck-” Leon proceeds to rant but is cut off by your pointer finger pressed on his lips.
“Shhh. Shut up, just drive to the nearest Waffle House… I’m fucking fine, fucking starving,” You attempt to quiet him, gesturing him to drive.
A huff emits from him, shifting the gear to drive out of the dark parking lot. “God, has anyone ever told you how demanding you are? You should get that checked out,” Leon briefly glances at you before returning his attention to the road.
Only a chuckle responds to his question, finding amusement in his question. “My whole life…”
After a while, the grand familiar yellow glow of the Waffle House comes into sight, and Leon parks the Skyline directly in front. Being the gentleman that Leon is, he hastes around the car to the passenger side to open the door for you.
“Dude, I'm injured, not fucking crippled!” You seethe, standing from the passenger seat, wincing from the pain with every minimal movement. To spare himself from another quarrel, Leon steps back to allow room for you to move, combing his hand through his dirty blonde locks. From the way your body stood stiff and the hiss from your mouth, he assumed the impact from the collision afflicted your body. All Leon could do was watch you limp to the restaurant in discomfort since you would protest his offer to help.
Once inside, Leon strolls behind you until he can accompany you to a booth and sits across. That stench of cigarettes penetrated his senses and wrinkled his nose, causing him to ponder your adamant selection in this restaurant. A waitress introduces herself, handing you and Leon a menu.
“I know what I want,” You utter to the waitress, tapping on the menu. The waitress nods, pulling out her notepad and pen in preparation to write your order.
“I want the All-Star breakfast. Scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and hash browns smothered. Very smothered,” You inform the waitress with a polite smile, the only genuine smile Leon has noticed you dawn.
“Do you want anything on your waffle?” The waitress then asks, glancing at your face from her notepad.
In response, you nod with a cheeky smile, ”Chocolate chips, please.”
Just nearly an hour ago, Leon was confronted by the most intimidating woman in the racing scene, now eating a chocolate chip-covered waffle before him like a little girl. There with a forkful of eggs and piece of waffle in your mouth, and Leon slumps back against the cushioned backrest of the booth.
“How come you didn’t get anything?” You inquire, flickering your eyes from the food on your plate to the blond man across the table. “Eating by myself feels weird… And I would have paid for you,” You add, stuffing another forkful in your mouth.
Leon’s face burns with a pink hue at the offer, although he held a tinge of suspicion at your generosity. “Uh… It’s a bit too late for me to eat,” He mentions, glancing at the gash on your forehead. “How are you feeling with your- you know,” His hand gestures to his head concerning your wound.
The fork in your hand tosses a piece of egg on your plate as you contemplate the occurrence of events. “Honestly could be worse… but damn, do you know how many grands I put into that Supra? But that’s okay, the Nissan Skyline is the jack of all trades. Even with stock parts, she can even beat American muscle…” You relent, peering beyond the window to where the Skyline is parked. It was almost perverse as every inch of the car was examined by your gaze.
Leon directs his attention to the Skyline parked there in front of the restaurant, relieved they are able to escape the scene alive at least. Although, the indication that you were still expecting to acquire the car, Leon could not help but exhale harshly through his nose. “Actually… I was hoping you would let me keep my car…” Leon trails off, immediately ceasing speaking.
“Pretty boy, we raced and I won-” You began, using the fork to cut a piece of the waffle, the chocolate obscenely smeared on the plate. “Believe me when I say you’re in my good graces. Most people would have left me to be arrested or hell, die… But you didn’t. Even then, it would be almost a sin for me to let a rare prize slip from my possession. I’m not waiting 25 years, till what… 2023 or 2024 when they’re legal to import. I’ll be in my 40s, and I want to retire with one already under my care…” You justify to Leon, extending the fork across the table to him as a peace offering. His head jolts at the sudden piece of food in front of his face, noticing how the waffle was threatening to slide off.
“Say ahh,” You part your lips, pressing the fork to his lips until he reluctantly opens his mouth.
The mixture of chocolate and syrup was overwhelming to his taste buds, but chewed enough to swallow it down. A firm frown lined his lips, unable to tolerate the sweet taste lingering in his mouth.
“How about this, Santoro… keep the car tonight. But tomorrow night, I expect it in my garage. We can exchange cars with whatever pick from my collection…” You iterate with a cheeky smirk from his discomfort. Your hand pulls out your wallet from your jacket, tugging out a few $20s to drop on the table before standing from the booth. Leon peers at the few $20 dollar bills piled on the table, bewildered to why you would exceed more than what you needed to pay.
“Let’s go, Santoro,” You call to him, already on the verge of opening the entrance door. Leon follows suit, politely waving to the waitress and cook behind the counter. The rookie observes how your legs limp to the passenger door, prompting him to sigh. “Hey, I could help you walk…” He blurts out, but instantly regrets his own words as he witnesses the features of your face cringe.
“Can you just unlock the damn car? It’s almost 2AM, people start leaving the bars at this time. I need this car in one piece.” Your palm thumps on the top of the Skyline, an apparent contradiction to the blonde.
Leon clicks his tongue, strolling to the driver’s side and unlocks the doors. “Am I dropping you off? Where do you live?” He inquires while turning the ignition. The purrs of the engine resonated throughout the entire car, and you swore the vibration stirred something between your thighs.
“How else would the fuck I get home? East from here, near downtown off Euston Street,” You answer, settling back on the passenger seat.
It was enough information for Leon to steer the R34 away from the Waffle House, mindful to avoid the downtown area of Raccoon City. Dead of night, the roads were empty except for the occasional semi truck. Those photos of the injured truck drivers for Umbrella burned in his mind and served as a reminder to his objective. With occasional glances, Leon realized that exhaustion lulled you to sleep. This night proved to have taken an entire toll on your body. Just in mere minutes, the notorious El Jefe dozed off on his passenger set. Steady breaths raised your chest and your eyelashes were prominent. Now with the cards in his play, Leon became aware how you were practically in the palms of his hands on the edge with certainty of obtaining your trust. Only if he could laugh in Eliot’s smug face at this moment.
Eventually Leon gradually slows the Skyline when he enters Euston street, speculating which house down the dark street belonged to you. His hand rouses your sleeping form with a gentle shake on the shoulder, observing how your eyelashes flutter. Several grumbles leave your lips, wearily annoyed to be awoken until the familiar surroundings outside the car register within your mind. “We’re here already, huh?” Your voice almost whines.
“Mhhm,” Leon confirms, waiting for your directive to the house you lived in.
“Shit, I’m so tired… Uh, it’s three houses down. One story with a wide white patio and a large magnolia tree in the front lawn,” You point in the distance, prompting the blonde to cautiously drive the car to the matched description lair you call home. Maybe it was the manner you flaunted yourself before everyone earlier at the races, but Leon assumed El Jefe would reside within a luxurious grand mansion. The house was neither extravagant nor impoverished,- just oddly humble.
Once the Skyline halts along the curve, your hand gravitates to the door handle before whirling to the blonde in the driver’s seat. “I expect this car to be delivered by 6PM tomorrow, before the sun sets. And as agreed, a peek at my collection…” You wink and pull the car lever to open the door. Discomfort was still evident to how your body straightened out of the R34, groans weakly sound. “Wear something nice and casual, not whatever dorkish shit you're wearing. Can’t let people believe I let anyone hang around me,” You taunt with a grin on your face, closing the passenger door and walking around the car to the walkway that leads to the entrance door.
When the sight of you disappears behind the door, the rookie releases a staggered breath that has been held in since the arrival at your house. The hooks were in, yet Leon needed to strategize how to reel you in. A rev from the engine soars as Leon U-turns out the street, returning to the main road. Both hands grip the steering wheel, so giddy from how this sole night progressed. Although, the time was entirely late and he would have pair up with Eliot to understand his absence. For what the obstacles were worth, the outcome compelled Leon to appreciate the beauty of the night. Beyond the dark clouds, Leon could glimpse the silver lining of the full moon. If Leon remembered correctly from the morning news, tomorrow night would entail the Wolf’s Moon. There were no goodbyes exchanged, only a demand placed, not a question.
And Leon knew he should have not been disappointed by the lack of.
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil#female reader#leon x reader#ada wong#resident evil 2 remake#resident evil leon#underground alliance#resident evil 2#leon s kennedy
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reviewing the ranma 1/2 fanzine i made when i was 12 years old.
i just found ranma 1/2 fanzines which I made in 1999 when I was 12 years old. here's a review of the zines - and an attempt at analysing what was going through the head of my younger self.
as professional looking as the 'ranma 1/2 herald' looks, i made these fanzines by curating a combination of pictures I found on the internet, my own art, and my own writing, organised into magazine format - all of which I cut up and pasted by hand onto master sheets and then photocopied to yield the finished product.
what's odd (or one of the many things odd here) is that I had only managed to obtain and read the first few volumes of the ranma 1/2 manga at this point in my life (perhaps only the first three volumes). i had never watched an episode of the anime, and as far as i know it wasn't available in the uk at that time - certainly not on public television (we didn't have cable). furthermore, i didn't have any friends who were interested in ranma 1/2 or even knew what it was or who shared any of my other interests. nevertheless, i wrote the zines in a style as if they would one day be read by other people.
my enthusiasm for ranma, and subsequently the contents of these zines, was driven by my imagination, and what i could find through my relatively new access to the internet, which in turn encouraged my imagination. youtube didn't exist back then, but i remember reading summaries of anime episodes and consuming related media in whatever way i could, e.g. listening to audio files with snippets of the anime dialogue uploaded to ranma fan sites.
the information in my fanzines - the ranma 1/2 herald #1 and #2 - are heavily supplemented with my own creative additions to the ranma 1/2 universe, including what i now realise to be fanfiction - or attempts at roleplay - my own creative original characters and stories, and something of an obscured view of our own world.
parts of the zines are written in what I considered to be the voice and from the perspective of ranma 1/2 characters.
really not sure what was going on with the alignment of the page numbers on the contents page...
the zines contained fact files on characters and various other elements of the story. again, as much as i was fascinated by the franchise, i was working with very little information here. so i didn't let a little thing like not knowing many facts prevent me from writing these fact files.
much of the zines were taken up with displays of images i'd found online which i thought were just rad.
some good old school microsoft word clipart included
let's take a moment to appreciate this image of shampoo and mousse which i made on microsoft paint (i could create better art with physical media, but doing it digitally seemed exciting). i had not even read any manga where mousse was introduced by this stage, but i had read about him online.
other content included a ranma 1/2 alphabet: i matched a to z with characters, themes, and concepts from the franchise. highlights include:
Q is for questionable conduct, as many characters in Ranma are known to prance around shamelessly naked - most noticeable of these people is Ranma. (tsk, tsk) V is for VIOLENCE! Z is for zeal, a common problem with those characters who would like to win the girl, but Ranma just can'tbe [sic] bothered
my exploration of what windows 95 had to offer was not restricted to microsoft word clipart - i found the esoteric fonts of "windings" and "animals" fascinating. i felt like i was translating my writing into Egyptian hieroglyphics and back.
i also seemed to want to use the fanzine to promote my own original manga series. this is despite the fact that my original manga did not exist outside of my imagination. this didn't stop me including a summary article of the background story of my manga, which i called Kung Fu City. i also wrote about something called the Ultra Tokyo Files which, as far as i can surmise, was a planned sub-series of Kung Fu City. i do remember being very determined that i would create my own manga series called Kung Fu City when i was a child, and must have had fairly developed ideas about this, given what i wrote in the zines about my original universe, original characters, and original storylines. as you can see below, the principles of the Kung Fu City manga are 1) very little actual conversation; 2) non-stop sound effects and violence; 3) a debatable amount of humour (i don't know what I was getting at with point 3).
as you can see, i imagined Kung Fu City into history. i described it as having started in 1989, when i was two years old. what's more, i claimed that it was an influential factor in nunchaku being banned in the united kingdom! what a feat! so, through my zines, i seemed to be creating an alternative reality - not just an alternative ranma 1/2 universe, as many makers of fanfiction and fan comics do, but an alternative version of the "real world".
furthermore, i included a promotional segment from Kung Fu City in the zines - presented as if it was a preview of material from the part-way through the manga run. except, i created these panels specifically for the zines. there was no Kung Fu City before this or after this. just this.
i could really go on and on about the idiosyncrasies of my fanzines, but I will finish by bringing up the conversations i "had" with the characters. this includes the interview i "held" with ranma. as in, i wrote an article about me interviewing ranma saotome, the fictional character.
unfortunately, 12-year old me made the unusual editorial decision to print out my article on dark blue paper before photocopying it as black and white. as such, the interview article is difficult to read. if this post gets any interest and people want to read my conversation with Ranma (it was um...something) then i will make a post with the contents of this interview.
i also had a letters page where I encouraged my hoped-for readers to write in. but not to me. i asked them to address their letters to the characters of the kuno siblings - kodachi and tatewaki kuno. i went on to write letters from imaginary fans to the kunos, and wrote responses to the letters in the voice of kodachi or tatewaki.
a one sentence response from the imaginary character kodachi kuno (aka. the black rose) to a letter from a fan (also imaginary). i'm sure this was normal behaviour from a 12-year old.
i recognise this now as ranma 1/2 fanfiction. what's more, I think this was roleplay. i didn't have anyone else to roleplay ranma with, so i roleplayed with myself. no one else read my articles or any other aspects of my zines. i think i would have wanted to share my passion with someone else, i just didn't have anyone to do it with. so, if nothing else, i made these zines for my own enjoyment. z really was for zeal!
i was a lonely 12-year old wannabe weeaboo who supplemented my lack of money to spend on the ranma 1/2 franchise and lack of access to the fandom with my imagination and creativity. some of the world i conveyed in these zines was bizarre, but it was creative. and maybe now - 25 years later - someone else will finally read my zines.
#ranma 1/2#ranma ½#fanzine#fandom zine#anime#anime and manga#roleplay#rp#cringe#childhood#nostalgia#manga#fanart#fanfic#rumiko takahashi#zine#oc#oc art#original art#original comic#original manga#ranma fanart#ranma fanfiction#ranma fanzine#ranma roleplay#ranma rp#kodachi kuno#tatewaki kuno
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[The Ssum] December 20, 2022. To you.
Hey.
This time of the year is back. Again. But I guess making a face all those years did work. No one’s going over the top about it being my birthday soon.
All is good and quiet. Say that I’m being fussy all you want.
Oh, but the carrot cake that Tain sent me wasn’t so bad. Maybe I’ll tell him to bake it routinely.
It’s my birthday, so it should fine to do whatever I want. Or is this a ‘no’? I can never understand the standard people set.
What do you think? Am I being unreasonable, or is it a right I have?
Never mind. I’d rather not care for this kind of thing. That’ll just make me tired.
Anyway…. I just wanted to thank you for wishing me a good one. Yeah.
Tsk, Big Guy is looking for me. He’ll keep whining if I don’t go. I really can’t be bothered, but I’ll go see what he wants for now….
Call me if you have the time. On second thought, call me even if you don’t.
Well, see you.
- Harry
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Today’s TIP from PIU-PIU!
The Celebratory Lab for Harry’s birthday is still open in the City of Free Men :^) Remember to check your Study Support to not miss out on any gifts! X^D
*If you are unable to find his call, try registering your birthday and job on your Profile page.
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A-ahem. Starting over again...
@newthinkerer found THS post and said to me: "I'm sure the Kirby fandom has done something to grind your gears."
Which, in truth, the answer is not lately / not really no. ^^; But it wasn't hard to reach in and find some "comical outrage" style gear-grindy answers for those who find such rants entertaining! So, here those are for everyone's (hopeful) enjoyment
[Original Response Below] Ohhh? Did you want "Salty" Dess? XD Let's go down the list...!
Marx / Reduced to one single trait
Look, I know the games don't give people much to go on, but a lot of people (1) seem ha~ppy to come up with pages and pages of backstory for all the other characters - but Marx? Nope. Marx is the one character who people seem almost allergic to rounding out when he is RIPE with mystery and potential. "But the game doesn't tell us anything about him so maybe he isn't that big of a deal, Dess?" Tsk! The game tells us just as little about Meta Knight! The only difference is the number of appearances! Use your imagination, people!
It's like some folks are trying to invoke the Smash Bros conspiracy theory that Kumazaki and Sakurai have a rivalry (they don't) and just like Sakurai would NEVER put a Kumazaki-era character in Smash (...he already did in the form of the trophies) no one is allowed to characterize Marx cause he's from the Sakurai-era of Kirby where characters just didn't have personalities and lore! Pah, I say!
Oh yeah, if you want to see me destroy something, say "He was just hungry!" : ) in my presence. Do it. I dare youuuuuu...!
:holds Magolor over a wood chipper:
Susie / They stole (...some planetary resources and MK's autonomy...) and fandom labeled them a hard criminal
You all knew this one was coming, right? ^^ But if I start up the Susie debate again, I'm going to regret it so, uh, let's move on...
Kirby / Popular headcanon so off-base it hurts.
I fear the Metadad people have their hands over the block button right now. But it's not that MetaDad is necessarily wrong! MK can act protective, sure. It's "Baby Kirby" that is wrong! He lives on his ownnnnnn with a houseeee he does not need babyinnnng.....!!
Magolor / Constant (eh, semi-frequent??) misinterpretation
...I want to be as gentle as possible when I say this because I GET IT. Please believe me when I say I understand so, so much and as far as AU versions/alternate HC goes, it's fine! This isn't a call out!
But... Magolor being a shy, reserved kitty boy who just wants...f-friends... Look, Magolor may not have EVERY disease, but he does have a lot of them. However awkward he may be though, the form his awkwardness takes is very clearly extroverted! Again, it's super okay though because I get seeing yourself or an aspect of yourself you're dealing with in a character and wanting to make them more like you! Dess supports comfort characters! (Plus, my own version of Magolor is a little laser-sighted on his frustrated side)
...But he runs a shop and a theme park. He actually LIKES talking to/dealing with people! He gets along with Marx because he LIKES tricking people. He likes to get under people's skin! He doesn't fear it! Magolor is/has been sad and probably has some deep trauma, yeah. But he also deserves to be more than :gif of a sad cat:
DMK / The worst takes....
I'm not going to start up The Debate here, same as with Susie, but... The unabashed glowing adoration the fandom has for Meta Knight and you take away ONE good trait and enhance ONE bad trait and now he is Satan?!? Some of you people hate him more than HYNESS (:spoken by a Hyness fan:) and I don't know why?!
Maybe add on "He would never say that" for the people who do the opposite and make him exactly like MK but he says the F word
Daroach / ...Ignored
Like, the real crime (haha, get it? crime?) about Daroach is that he IS used occasionally. More than like, I dunno, Chew Kawasaki? But when he does show up, it's with his crew being "The Leader of the Squeaks" (showcasing that Dad Energy(tm)) or DMK's husband. (The thief and the murderer are boyfriends! Diversity win!) And...that's it?
Daroach has so much potential to interact with literally everyone?! He roasts Dedede IN GAME?! Why are people not running with this energy more?! (Also, shipping Darkroach because of that one picture is fine. I do too. Shipping Darkroach because you don't want to break up MetaDede and so you relent to "giving" him MK's mirror clone like buying a grieving kid a new puppy is...kinda weird? Just me?)
Adeleine / Reduced to one single trait (part two)
...This might sound like THE most hypocritical thing coming from the creator of "Apologies" aka, "Sad Siblings in Snow" but Adeleine potentially being from Shiver Star (potentially!) equating her to "The Little Match Girl." Now I love all kinds of Adeleine origin headcanons! And I also love Sad Adeleine on Shiver Star stories! I don't want to put an end to them or suggest they are bad thing! Never!
But... I worry e~very now and then THAT is the thing people find most interesting about her. That she would/should be a sad girl when she's really not. Since writing "Apologies," I've gotten a handful of asks about how Adeleine must be really sad about Noir's death or asking if she will ever be able to smile again and... like...um...
...S-she is? Already smiling, that is. ^^; "Apologies" was crafted in a way to PROTECT Adeleine's innocence so that she can be happy and relatively close to the canon Adeleine! Adeleine being able to move on with her life and smile and make friends is exactly the thing Noir died for - so that Adeleine wouldn't have the life he did!
So, again, kinda hypocritical of me because I actually really like sad Adeleine art and "Adeleine the Human" HC, but I sometimes fear it might become all that she is. :spoke by a contributor to this trend:
...TLDR, continue to write and draw Adeleine angst because it allows me to ignore the option I almost considered just for a second which was sexualiza...Nope. We're going to go back to forgetting about all that unfortunate Pixiv content right.this.minute!
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(1) So, despite my tone and the things I said, I'm not actually upset at anyone for anything they'd done! I'm really happy that people are creating at all - whether you're writing sad Magolor or itty bitty Kirby or lol random Marx or PTSD Adeleine or trophy husband Daroach!
I don't even see a lot of the things I'm ostensibly complaining about anymore, honestly. Thus my reasons for posting less and less salt on this account! Outside of a few fandom kerfluffles in the last month (alas...) I would say we're actually in an era of peace as far as good content about the characters goes! People are thinking and inventing. People are having fun. People are being measured with their takes and anything "gear grindy" is really going to be remembered stuff from the past, not present flaws!
...plz don't block me...
#Kirby#Marx#Magolor#Daroach#Adeleine#Susie Haltmann#Dark Meta Knight#Dess Ramblings#cw: salt#I worry more that my blorbos will be 'stuck in the past'#Defined by that one memorable thing they did one time#and not allowed to grow/be experimented with#Or people will find the one trait they like the most#and stick with it cause it's the most appealing to them#(But not THAT worried because I do this a lot too!)#Which is why I don't consider any of these flaws#Certainly not grievous ones or fandom crimes!#Just something to think about/shake stuff up!#Hopefully no HC were harmed in the making of this post#Like I know a lot of people DO have detailed Marx HC!#And I also love a shivering wet helpless Magolor!#Evil Scientist Susie? Heck yeah! Go girl!#I have a couple of MetaDad posts favorited too#And Darkroach is a cool ship#That's what I mean that none of these really bother me! XD
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Quaestor Valdemar x Bismuth (OC) - The Feeling's Mutual
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Commission by @silversnape ! Forgot to post and got sick so it's only just now getting posted but glad you enjoyed it fren! :) If anyone else wants to commission my rules are on my page and my DMS are definitely open to it!
Word count: 6,888
Genre: Innocent, fluffy, maybe a lil gorey or horror induced
Enjoy!
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There's a graveyard located deep in the forest. Of course it was best to keep it from the palace grounds, for it was a dark little reminder of the past in Versuvia that was hidden amongst overgrown foliage. Quaestor Valdemar hadn't spoken much on it, what was there to say anyway? The land was full to the brim with the dead, headstones far out of reach. Bismuth, the apprentice to the physician, had grown a curiosity for it though it wasn't surprising for her to do so with her because of her natural sense of curiosity. Even if Valdemar hadn't said anything about it themselves the woman had been reading, there weren't many stories on the ancient land but she was able to find a few things.
To start of the land was filled with the dead as stated before, those who lost their lives to the great red plague that ruled over the lands. Bismuth had heard the tales of it from various mouths, people who had lost loved ones during those times or who were descendants of such and even more from Valdemar themselves who seemed to…enjoy talking about such a dark time. That wasn't new though of course it's not like the Quaestor grew eager to talk about anything else but the death toll that occurred back then.
Even so, they could talk about the plague all day she was sure but still…they hadn't said anything on the graveyard itself.
Valdemar suddenly snaps their fingers on front of bright eyes, Bismuth blinks at the action. She had zoned out, the graveyard has been on her mind for a while now. Probably more than it should be. Natural curiosity of a cat, hopefully it wouldn't get her killed.
"Assistant? Bismuth?…Are you even listening?" They question, voice smooth but there's some firmness and a light sigh that leaves them as they eye her, hovering close to her as if examining her gaze. The hand in her face is covered in sticky blood, they lower it to grab a rag that sits beside them, freeing their other hand from the corpse in front of them laying on the table. A man who had died of some sort of liver damage…Valdemar wipes their gloves clean before turning and looking at her once more, eyebrows furrowing a little.
"I'll say it again. Did you even hear a thing I said? How are you supposed to take notes when you can't even focus on what I'm saying?" They huff lightly but it's clear that their tone with her isn't as harsh and cold as it could be, one could say that they were rather nice to her compared to many others. Usually actions like this would set them off, make them glare and tsk in annoyance but they almost seem to have an uncharacteristic…patience with her.
"Mind informing me of whatever could be on your mind at a time like this? Weren't you the one who suggested helping me tonight?" They inquired as they set the now bloody cloth back to the side before crossing their arms over their back. Bismuth looks up at them with surprise before slowly looking down at her feet, heart pumping in her chest just having them look at her. As curious as she was for the graveyard she had to avoid their gaze for a moment for she might end up flushing. She was infatuated with the other, whether they knew or not and usually a scenario where they were focus on her was like a dream but right now it seemed like she was before scolded which put a light frown on her lips.
She looks from her shoes and uniform back to the dead man on the table, his skin is pale as his torso lays wide open for all to see. There's tools on the side, a surgical knife, tweasers, a scalpel… her gaze stays on her for a moment before she looks back up at her superior who seems to still be waiting patiently for a reply, lightly lifting a brow.
"I've…been thinking about the graveyard in the forest." She finally admits slower than she usually would and Valdemar looks at her in slight suspension as she starts that sentence off just for their eyes to widen as she finishes. It's almost as if they didn't expect that answer from her, at all, and maybe they didn't but why did they almost seem spooked by her words? It's silent for a moment, unexpectedly silent, and Bismuth can't help but feel herself grow anxious. She must've said something wrong. There's a moment where she begins to regret saying anything but it's not like the woman would hold information from them if they asked because she followed them and admired them greatly. There was no way she could lie so easily to them. However, their silence makes her feel like she shouldn't have opened her mouth at all. She can feel herself begin to shake a little, the idea of them being angry getting to her for that was just not something she could handle.
She jumps when a gloved hand seems to snake its way under her chin. She twitched at the touch but Valdemar doesn't take that as a reason to pull away as they carefully cup her chin, firm but not enough to bruise or cause pain.
"Why would something like that be on your mind? How did you even find out about that place? No.." they speak, eerily persistent before shaking their head a little as if that wasn't the way they seen themselves starting their response.
"That place is not safe. Thinking about it like you are must mean you're curious in it…I don't know what that brain of yours is thinking but you don't plan to go find it for yourself do you?" They contested. They were in her face now, still holding her chin but leaned in close. Tone hard and gaze unyielding as they looked at her and made her look at them. Their hand pressed slightly harder as her eyes widened before her lip started to quiver a little, it didn't hurt it's not like they were digging their nails in or pressed harshly on her cheeks, they're hold was firm but gentle almost like leading a small animal to look and focus on them.
Bismuth could feel her eyes watering, she couldn't help but feel troubled or that she was being trouble for them. She suddenly felt a little bad within herself, over thinking. She did come to help them because that's what she loved, being under them and around them…close enough to touch them but now they were upset with her, looking at her with such a gaze even if their hand felt surprisingly warmer than they usually were on her cheeks.
Valdemar's gaze seems to soften even just a little, they make a motion of shaking her head softly from side to side. It lightens the mood even just a little, especially when they push up her cheeks and make her pout and pucker her lips. They huff softly before letting her free a second after.
"I'm not angry with you Bismuth, just don't go out there and that is a warning." They advised while turning away from her to walk over to a counter.
"I..heard about it at the market. I was just wondering and all. When we…work on things together like the bodies of the living it's only natural for me to wonder where they go when we're done with them. You…don't let me come with you when you take them away." She spoke feebly, at the time of doing so the Quaestor had picked up a body bag. It was black, easy to be ignored or confused for a shadow if spotted in the woods. She watched them and their tall lean figure as they did so and noticed when they seemed to pause at her words, calculating them in their brilliant brain.
"You…want to come with me?" They asked as if perplexed and she nodded almost as if shy.
"Yes." She confirms politely.
They seem to think about it, brows knitting together a little as if thinking of the consequences of this action if they agreed. She has been working with them for a while now, long and diligently too… She always did what she was told with no talk back and little failure, enough so that Valdemar themselves had placed a certain level of importance on her. They eventually breathe in deep through their nose and out through their mouth, collecting themselves and their various thoughts before walking over to the lifeless body and the woman.
"Fine, I feel as though I can trust you… just don't touch anything and don't venture off. Do you understand Bismuth?" They spoke carefully as they pulled open the body bag waiting for her response even though they were positive that they already knew what she would say. As they led the body into the bag and eventually zipped it up they glanced at her from the corner of their eyes to see…a sparkle could be found in those dark eyes of hers.
With eyes like hers they could be seen as nothing but plain to some though it was easy to see… that not many people held eyes like her's. Sometimes they'd twinkle when they called her name, even more so when she had earned some praise. Inky blackness seemed like a spiraling galaxy at times, at least when Valdemar was in the picture.
They looked away after a moment, moving their hands to grasp the body bag and haul the contents over their shoulder. Honestly, for how lean they were, they were quite strong…
"Y-yes!" She answered, a look of determination now forming on that cute little face of hers as she agreed to their terms.
"Well come on. Don't get lost." They emphasized before turning away and leading the way to the dungeons exit. She eagerly followed like a puppy and they found themselves chuckling softly at it, how she had gone from that pout from earlier to such a sweet smile.
It was a bit of a walk to get there but with each step they made Bismuth could feel the energy that flowed from the forest. It was like a tingle running over her skin or an unintelligible whisper in her ears. She had grown rather anxious during their little adventure together, even going far enough to be right on Valdemar's heels though they didn't seem to mind. At least she was staying by their side like they told her to.
The full moon was out, the smell of dirt and rain laced the air. From Valdemar's perspective they walked with a sternness, they knew where they were going unlike their subordinate. Their walk hadn't contained much talking at first, mostly the crunches of leaves under their feet or the screeching of crickets took up the silence. It was only when they weren't too far when Valdemar eventually spoke, breaking the silence but not without the woman walking beside them jumping as if shocked to hear of them after all this time. Valdemar grinned, a toothy grin that was just a bit wider than usual as if they found it funny to see the woman practically shaking in her boots.
"Apologies, I didn't mean to spook you." They hummed looking down at her before looking ahead again, eyes glowing bright in the darkness. In their free hand they held a lantern to help the woman beside them, just because they could see in the conditions of the night didn't mean that she could as well.
"I just wanted to say that for someone who was so curious you're shaking like a leaf. One would one I dragged you out here if you keep scrunching your eyebrows and looking around like that." They pointed out but there was a playful edge to their tone as if trying to help the woman calm down. It seemed to work as she turned her head to them quickly, cheeks brightly flushing at their teasing. When her mouth fell open as if to say something back they lifted a brow, smug smirk on their lips.
"Please don't tease me Quaestor…" she huffs softly turning her gaze away but not without them noticing the light flush on her cheeks. They chuckled but left her be for the time being.
It's a bit chilly out tonight, nothing that would stop the Quaestor themselves but Bismuth rubbed at her arms for more warmth. Valdemar led the way, their tall figure finding a trail and walking along it. The gates of the graveyard were rusted, the doors stuck in place and wide open almost as if welcoming them but Bismuth shivered just looking at it. It wasn't as if she didn't expect it to be somewhat like this but the eerie feeling in the air felt too heavy even with someone like the Quaestor being there to guide her.
Her stomach churned as her onyx gaze trailed over the land, headstones poking out for what seemed to be far far away as if there wasn't an ending. She briefly covered her eyes, mind getting jumbled for a moment as she tried to calm her nerves but then the sound of metal clinging against metal had made her jerk. Snapping out of her thoughts. Her gaze moved to Valdemar who had sat the lantern down for a moment, a shovel now in their free hand which had been leaning against the rusted gate with one other.
"Are you okay assistant?" They asked but their tone was less playful than before as they almost seemed to look at her…in worry. She flushed at the expression, that frown pulled at their lips felt homey. Bismuth nods quickly this time, waving a hand dismissely while still holding herself with the other.
"I-im fine. Just a bit cold out here tonight considering how warm it was earlier." She replied now lightly shrugging. Valdemar hummed at the reply but eventually nodded before looking down at the lantern next to their foot.
"Look, come here. The sooner we get this done the sooner we'll be able to return to the palace. The rain must've caused a cold front. Take the lantern and follow me, you'll be the light." They instructed and obediently the woman approached and carefully plucked the lantern off the ground. They nodded and from there on continued by passing through the fence.
There was a heavy fog in the graveyard, the heads of tombs only became harder and harder to recognize as the two of them went deeper and the crickets who chirped so loudly before had suddenly fallen silent. Valdemar walked with ease and poise, they've been across these lands many times before that at first they didn't realize Bismuth had fallen a bit behind. For her, these lands almost seemed like anything could jump out and grab her at any given moment. She trembled now but not because of the cool weather this time.
"Bismuth?" Their voice rang out through the still air. She quickly turned, they were probably about ten or so paces in front of her now, standing out in the field of fog and gravestones. Their magenta eyes looked at her, a slight bit of confusion could be found in their features.
"Are you sure something isn't the matter?" They called out. Just hearing their voice calmed her, surprisingly like a guide through the dark. She came to the conclusion that she didn't like it here as much as she previously thought she would, previously her curiosity of the place had come from the lack of general knowledge on it. Granted graveyards…weren't her favorite though so it should have been expected. Originally she planned to come in the early hours of the day, where the sun could keep her peace of mind safe but the Quaestor had caught her so quickly. So then, when they allowed her to come she practically leapt at the chance to spend more time with them. She hardly thought about her decision at first but once they entered the forest it felt like her heart constricted in her chest and that something…was watching.
She shook her head though even as her heart was racing in her chest and her stomach was churning a bit.
"N-no, just thought I heard something…" she says softly, running her free hand through her long raven hair as she caught up for them and they waited up until she was standing beside them again.
"Something…like what?" They persisted lightly but she didn't mind as they turned forward again and continued walking. From this distance and with this pace of step Bismuth could notice a few things about her superior. She tended to do so often, just a few days ago she noticed they had freckles. A few could be spotted on the space of their neck that didn't get wrapped but most were over their cheeks. She'd grown to like them, quite a bit actually. Right now she was picking up on their scent, a blush coming to her cheeks as her gaze fell to her walking feet.
They smelled of something sweet and gentle like lavender and then something more earthy and homey like sandalwood and it was hard not to notice, it was some of her favorite smells.
"It feels like we're being watched..so, I didn't necessarily hear anything." She spilled without them having to push too hard. They hummed at the response, a little frown seemed to dust their lips for a moment but then they grinned widely, sharp teeth glistening in the moonlight. It was as if they were proud of something.
"Well yes, that would only make sense. We are at a graveyard after all. I feel them as well but they know not to approach me so as long as you keep up you won't be snatched into the void between life and death." They informed, their words chilling.
This graveyard hosted the bodies of those that passed away during the plague, their spirits watched from a distance but with hunger in their eyes just being near a walking, breathing, person. Her flesh reminded them or theirs before they plague tore it off them or melted it away. Now they looked like ghouls, the energy that they carried was heavy. Heavier than anything else Bismuth had ever felt before and to be honest, their phrasing did nothing to ease her this time.
Her face didn't match theirs, she didn't have a wide grin on her lips like they had in theirs. She nodded though, surely they didn't mean too much harm by saying that right?
"I wouldn't let anything happen to you." They spoke lastly as they moved off the pavement to venture into the grass into an open plot. There was already a headstone in the dirt but nothing was on it as Valdemar knelt down to slide the body bag from their shoulder to the ground to rest in the grass. Bismuth had fallen silent, the churning in her stomach had turned back into a wild fluttering.
"Right…" she manages to say softly as she pets her warm cheeks with her free hand. They don't respond immediately this time, taking the shovel in their hands now. She hovers close but they wave her back a little.
"Hold the light." The ordered calmly and she nodded. As they started digging she couldn't help but look around the graveyard again, surveying the area. She couldn't see any faces, not any ghoul like creatures but she could…feel them. A heavy shiver ran up her spine for a split moment. She still felt sick even with them being near, felt as if at any time she'd feel someone breathing down her neck tickling the strands of hair there. She shifted on her feet as the Quaestor kept digging, they were a little over a foot deep now, eyes focused on the goal. She watched as they went further and by the time that they dug enough for just their headdress to be seeable Bismuth was shivering again.
Her dark eyes glanced around again, first time quickly, darting from corner to corner now, checking her surroundings continuously but being sloppy with the task as well since she feared that she'd actually see something this time. It was when her eyes looked at the body bag next to the large hole that she froze. For the splittest of moments it seemed like it had moved and she squeaked and jumped at the very thought. She was spooked, the longer she stood here with this light the more she felt like she was drawing moths in. They circled her, the sound of fluttering wings in her ears loud and overstimulating.
"What is it now Bismuth?" Valdemar called out again, this time peeking their head up from the hole to look at the woman. If it wasn't the fact that the woman was practically scared shitless she probably would have found their position a little humorous for it distantly reminded her of a gopher sticking its head out of the dirt. No, she trembled and upon seeing her Valdemar lifted a brow. Surely it was her own fear at this point, nothing had come for her all night and yet she was this frightened.
"I..uh…" she stuttered and they sighed. If they could guarantee that she was strong enough they'd suggest switching spots. No way that could happen, she'd take too long in that state and it's not like they wanted to give her that much work anyway.
"It won't be too long now if that helps ease you. With how scared you seem I can count on the fact that you'll never come here alone right?" They chuckled while going back to work looking back to the hole as they dug the shovel in again but the woman let out a much smaller laugh, rubbing her arm with her free hand again. This was probably why Valdemar didn't bring her along with them to begin with until today, this seemed like only a place they could thrive in. They didn't seem fearful or nervous at all to be here, they almost seemed to blend right in and that made the woman feel a little embarrassed… She was an adult and yet she shook like a young child right now who was scared the Boogeyman would get her. Maybe she was just overreacting…even if she felt sick to her stomach.
"Yes, I don't think I could be caught dead here." She replied without much thought and for a moment complete silence settled between them before Valdemar snorted, then they let out a roar of laughter. They cackled as if she meant to tell that joke, as if they'd slap their knee at any given time. They curled in on themselves, using the handle of the shovel for support as their wicked laughter filled the air.
Usually people would be unnerved by this but Valdemar had a nice tone of laughter, Bismuth noticed even if she had jerked upon it first coming out. It felt like they hadn't laughed like that in a long time and even if Bismuth was a little confused she felt warm hearing it. Knowing that she was the source of such made her cheeks flush and for a moment she felt a soft smile beginning to form on her lips as they let it all out.
That was until a hand, cold and clammy, slapped over her mouth with harsh pressure. It held an iron grip on her as shock surged through her entire being from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. Suddenly that warmth she felt shattered into an icy feeling of wriggling worms in her gut as the lantern fell from her hand, knocking the lit flame out and enveloping the area in the darkness once more.
When Valdemar eventually calmed themselves they hummed in content.
"Bismuth I didn't know you were a comedian-" they began to praise the little woman but froze when they realized how dark it had gotten so suddenly. Immediately they clambered out of the hole, it was deep enough now anyway. All that was needed was to toss it in and bury it but now something else was on Quaestor Valdemar's mind which seemed far more important than the corpse.
"Bismuth?" They stated louder, firmer, this time before snapping their head in the direction of the lantern that now lay abandoned in the grass. They sneered at the object like it was offensive to their very being…they let their guard down for the slightest of moments and that was apparently just enough. They didn't need to be a rocket scientist to know what had happened.
Their hands were freezing cold as they held her tightly, hands gripping and grasping at her like they'd tear the skin right off her body at any time. Bismuth was in a frenzy, kicking wildly even if none of them seemed to make any actual contact as if she was kicking nothing but air, as if no one was really there but they had to be…their hold was starting to get awfully painful. Tears were leaking from Bismuth's eyes as she looked up at the various faces. The spirits, which she could now see even if she wished she couldn't, had black eyes but nothing like hers which were laced in anguish, their eyes were soulless, empty, and devoid of any purpose or care for her. They wrestled her on the ground as if trying to drag her down to Hell with them.
'Flesh.'
One of their voices stated, eery and chilling to the ear. Raspy and hungry as a hand slid down her warm cheeks, wiping at Bismuth's tears even if more took their place. She snapped her head away, turning it to try and avoid the touch but another, different hand roughly grabbed her chin and turned her back.
'Such…warm skin.'
Another voice echoed, it was hard to tell who it came from but the spirits faces which had previously been devoid of emotions turned into slow, knowing grins. Their teeth were wicked and the lines on their faces seemed abnormal, inhumane, and Bismuth gagged on puke which had built in her. They didn't seem to care, if she choked on her own bile then surely they could take her flesh a lot sooner after she died and proceed to drag her soul into the afterlife with them. They seemed to collectively communicate this between themselves as their grins grew even wider. There were quite a number of them, fifteen or so and counting as spirits seem to curiously leave their graves to see what the ruckus was all about.
It wasn't often that a human like her, or a human of any case, came through this graveyard and being victims of the plague only gave the spirits reasons to have a vendetta. Quaestor Valdemar had been their deaths and for many long years their spirits have been contained in this area where magic of the Quaestor held them in place. However, when the Quaestor approached today and with a cute little human with them at their hip, the spirits decided the best case of repayment for their internal suffering was to take from the lead physician themselves. Which is why when their guard was at its lowest they took her and dragged Bismuth further into the graveyard like a human rag doll.
Bismuth continued to squirm and wrestle them, her clothes getting dirty as she kicked up grass and dirt in her fight. Her clothes were wet with mud. Eventually a cold hand clasped around her ankle making her gasp as one of her last attempts to get away from these people, these creatures,…was taken from her. Hands already held down her wrist against the freezing ground as a spirit sat on her chest, a lady with long inky black hair…much too similar to Bismuth's.
'Lets take her…'
'Drag her back to hell with us…'
'Feed off her flesh and bones…'
'Savor her warm blood…'
The voices spoke as if they were circling and this time Bismuth was permitted to hear the conversation and when she did her eyes widened in absolute fear. They wanted to feed off her, consume her as if she was…prey.
The ghostly woman above Bismuth leaned down, long sharp nails digging deep into Bismuth's wrist, hard enough to make them bleed. Bismuth cried in pain under the hold but the woman continued, leaning close until she slid her tongue out. It was long, gray in color, Bismuth looked at her in wary and when the woman slowly trailed that cold tongue over Bismuth's tear stained cheek the living woman croaked under the hand over her mouth. More tears fell, the woman was tasting her and as much as she wanted to fight and run Bismuth couldn't do anything but stay glued to the ground under their surprising strength. She couldn't even move her hands to perform any form of magic that could save her.
Her thoughts went to Valdemar. She wondered where they were, if they were still laughing at the gravesite even. Her heart twisted in her chest, she was sure they would have never found themselves in this situation. They were strong, something that she didn't see herself as at times and this was definitely one of those times. What if they…were embarrassed by her? If they could see her now, fighting uselessly against a bunch of ghosts with no luck would they laugh at her like they laughed at her joke? A cruel, chilling laugh as if they saw no use in her? This is probably why they didn't trust her enough to bring with them to this place before, this whole time she had been useless and nothing but a nuisance. Surely if she had never come they wouldn't have had to deal with her and could have finished a lot quicker.
And now, she was going to die. At the hands of Quaestor Valdemar's own victims who saught revenge.
Bismuth sobbed, she was scared. Her stomach hurt like it had never down before and when the ghostly woman above her bared her teeth as if to bite Bismuth squeezed her eyes tightly shut.
…Then, the sound of swishing wind filled the air like a whip. It took a moment for Bismuth to realize what happened until screeching cries filled the air and a firm hand grabbed her by the back of her shirt and pulled her back with a heave. She bounced a little at being pulled back, blinked heavily as those tears fell and she tried to make sense of what occurred. It was when she looked up, lifting her head from the ground, that her eyes widened in awe, heart leaping in her throat.
In front of her stood…the Quaestor. Their back was to her, tall and broad as they stood in front of her as if they were…protecting her. In their hand was a weapon, one she's never seen them with before now and her eyes sparkled just seeing it, just being in its presence. It was a scythe, a long beautiful scythe with an ancient looking skull holding the blade together to the staff. They twirled it in their hands with a form of grace she's never seen before with any else and the head of the blade twinkled in the moonlight.
"Bismuth…" Valdemar stated in a calm tone though their voice was also firm. She immediately jumped just hearing it.
That was all though from them as they twisting their right wrist, scythe practically glowing. She clutched her shirt with shaking hands, the screeching had dialed down into growling and snarling except for one spirit, the woman who sat on Bismuth, her head had been severed from her body, lying limp on the ground and slowly turning to dark ash. A few spirits had been cut down, bodies turning into ash, melting away in the wind. Bismuth's heart was racing in her ribcage far too much for her to even say anything without her voice shaking. It was fine though for Valdemar still wasn't done dealing with the rest of the now infuriated ghosts.
"I'll only say it once. Get back in your graves, now, and I won't have to destroy all of you." The Quaestor stated with an eerily smooth tone. A few spirits backed off and hesitated just hearing them, faltering at the weight that those words carried. They sounded a little…angry.
Were they angry for her?
'Tch! As if!' A spirit roared, a man with dark crunchy hair. He and a few others decided to try again and as they bomb rushed the Quaestor Valdemar who narrowed their gaze, sharp fuschia eyes zoned in on their opponents as they rushed forward, and with a reeled back swing they slashed at the incoming borage. The wind produced by the scythe time was enough to slash at the trees even beyond the graveyard. It was seeable too, the slash that is. It was bright, their magic being a vibrant emerald color with specks of lighter greens and onyx's. The trees that were slash fell to the ground with loud, destructive thuds and with them came more screeching as spirits who didn't listen to the Quaestor's words lost their heads much like those before them. The slash had even sliced through rows of graves, shattering them with the impact.
As their bodies crumbled and collapsed the few spirits who had a sense of mind trembled in fear, looking at the Quaestor who stood unyieldingly in front of the woman behind them, before scurrying like a bunch of roaches and rodents back into their graves.
Quaestor Valdemar stood in silence for a moment as Bismuth tried to get on her feet before turning to her. They could be heard taking in a long deep breath through their nose before slowly releasing it from their smooth lips before turning to the woman, scythe dissolving from their hands into inky black, gas like tendrils before disappearing altogether. Their gaze on her seemed unreadable, not like they were easy to read begin but over the time of working by their side even Bismuth had gotten to know some of their expressions. This one however…
She scramble to her feet, wincing at the feeling of the scratches that had come from being dragged and the forming bruises on her skin. Even so she stood, holding one of her arms now. She still had tears in her eyes and almost as if ashamed she slowly lowered her gaze, bangs sweeping over her eyes.
"Doctor…I'm…I'm…" she sniffled. She shouldn't have come with them. She had been nothing but a nuisance after all. She wanted to apologize and is her mouth quivered she opened her mouth to officially get it out but the feeling of arms enclosing her made her jump and jerk into silence. Her mouth lightly fell open and her eyes had blown wide open as the moon shined down on them.
They were hugging her.
Shock rushed through her body.
"Don't." They started, arms hugging her even closer. She's never touched them before, sure they hovered over her at times and lingered closely but never once have they ever…held her. Never once had she even been this close to them, close enough to take in that sweet scent, enough to touch their pristine clothing, or enough to feel the light warmth that radiated from them. Her fingers twitched, carefully moving up to wrap around them too. A part of her feared reciprocating but surely this meant it was allowed though right? Surely she could have this from them.
"I'm glad you weren't hurt too badly. I let my guard down and just like that you were taken from me. Taken from my side. I must still have work to do when it comes to keeping you safe." They hummed against her, breath lightly tickling her neck making her shiver softly, a blush coloring her cheeks as she bit her lip. Her heart hurt, the tone in their voice sounded hopeless, grateful but analytical. It sounded like they were blaming themself for everything that had happened.
Before Bismuth had noticed she had started to shed tears, for some reason she felt lighter and Valdemar's scent and the hand rubbing soothing circles in her back didn't help calm her sobbing. She felt many things suddenly; relief, sadness, confusion and something much more fluffy.
Admiration.
She couldn't immediately understand what they were doing or why but she didn't mind. She would never mind something like this and from someone like them specifically. She almost tightened her hold when she felt them slowly pulling away but she restrained herself. They moved their hands to her shoulders and gave them a little squeeze.
"Let's get back to the palace, I'll check over you and look over your wounds." They hummed, right hand moving to caress her cheek, wiping at a few tears before lightly cupping her cheeks and tilting it to look a little closer at her. They seemed rather occupied for someone who said they'd check it later, were they actually worried? Even with her blushing hot cheeks she stayed still as they hovered close to her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, hands on their biceps. A chuckle eventually left their lips, filling the night air. Next thing Bismuth knew there was a soft pair of lips against her cheek. She blinked in confusion before her face exploded in a bright crimson color.
"At least they didn't scruff up this little face of yours too badly. Come on, let's go." They spoke, tone going from lightly joyous to a more professional one once more but even so Bismuth could have sworn their face had also grown a bit dark in hue. She slapped her hand over her cheek and sputtered, officially at a loss for words.
"You! Huh?! Oh God…" She concluded in defeat. Her face was so flushed as she followed them. It was like she immediately had forgotten what had previously occurred to her. They had…kissed her! Her heart was practically running laps in her chest so fast that she had to reach a hand up and grip her shirt. She had never thought they'd do such a thing, did that mean they felt something for her like she had for them for so long now? Is that why she caught them staring at her at times or seemingly overprotective with her, even a bit clingy at times? She didn't mind those times with them was this proof?
She sure hoped it was.
She opened her mouth to say something about it after a while of walking with them. They had made their way back to the grave, the body was gone now in the dirt, buried beneath the earth and next to the gravestone was the lantern. Valdemar grabbed it before they continued the walk, leading Bismuth back to the fence.
"Um…Quaestor?" She started softly as they walked the trail.
"Valdemar is fine." They replied with no issue. Bismuth nodded.
"Alright but…I'm just…a little confused. I don't want to assume but…back there you…" she squeezed out, Valdemar could probably see her tapping for pointer fingers together like a shy child. They lifted a brow, glancing down at her at their side before laughing a little, now looking at her fully again as they made their way back to the palace.
"Can't even wait for us to get back to safety before you ask those things?" They inquired, tone lightly teasing as they looked away once more. "It's been a long time since I've felt for someone as I do with you. That's what you were going to ask right? Well, I thought it'd be the best way to show you how I felt, maybe I got caught up in the moment as well." They explained and Bismuth fell into silence, eyes wide, and heart stunned. Were they really just confessing to her?
"Was I wrong to do so? I read that maybe people liked to use cheek kisses for those they like, would you prefer a different one?" They hummed, a grin on their lips but yes their cheeks were bright as well, a little blush of their own. They had read up on something like that just for her? She needed to know more but even then it felt like her heart would explode out her chest at any moment. How long have they felt this way for her? What books had they read? What ideas did they have for different kisses?
Bismuth was a mess, if she could tuck her face into her shirt for a moment she probably would.
"I've liked you for so long…" she whispers and Valdemar hums.
"And the feeling is mutual, so let's talk about it when we get back. We can discuss whatever you'd like and I'll answer with honesty to each one. " They promised and from there Bismuth nodded, butterflies practically bubbling up her throat as they eventually exited the woods.
"Okay." She agreed softly.
#writing comissions#writing community#commissions open#writing#the arcana x reader#the arcane game#thank you for the commission!#quaestor valdemar#valdemar x reader#valdemar#valdemar x mc#oc commission#commission me#commissions are open#otome romance
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¤ The Invitation ¤
{ Aemond Targaryen }
《 Part 10 》
When Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen's big family arrive at King's Landing for princess Helaena and prince Aegon Targaryen's wedding, things go as they always do. Dragons, uncles, nephews and cousins discussing and fighting, tension on every look, and disconfort when being with each other. Just the usual stuff...until the princess Daera Targaryen got drunk at a ball where The One-Eyed Prince happened to sneaked in
Masterlist
Warnings: swearing, brief oral sex (male!Targaryen receiving), trauma, self-hate, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡
■ ■ ■
Some time passed...
Daemon was quietly seated, taking place in The Chamber of the Painted Table. The Rogue Prince had a book opened on his knees, looking at it with a silent interest. Every few minutes, he would turn the page, passing his eyes through the textbook, one that was written in High Valyrian.
And, speaking of which, Baela and Rhaena were reading it too, outloud, practicing their pronunciation. Both sisters, not to far from their father, read and repeated some words constantly, wanting to do it perfectly.
-Qurdon [ Table ]-, Rhaena says, pointing at The Painted Table while having her eyes on the book.
-Qurdon-, repeated Baela with a nodd.
-Uh-uh-. Daemon denies, separating his gaze from the book, looking at them. His girls glance back at him, raising their brows-. Ziry iksos "qurdon" [ It is "qurdon" ]-, he corrects them.
-Qurdon-, Baela whispers, copying him-. Qurdon...-, and again.
-Uhh, ēngos nykeā relgos? [ Tongue or mouth? ]-, Rhaena asks, curious.
-Ēngos [ Tongue ]-, he answers, eyeballing his book again.
-Qurdon-, both sisters said, now perfectly. Daemon forms a tiny smirk on his lips, glancing at his girls rapidly.
The doors of the chambers are opened, and Luke enters with a fasted breath, looking around with his frows furrowed. Daemon lifted his gaze from the book, Baela looks curious at him, and Rhaena sighs with a smile when seeing him.
-Girls-, he greets with a smirk, nodding-. Uhh, where is Daera? Jace and I have been expecting her for our training, on the beach-. Luke speaks, confused.
-Ow, she already left to King's Landing, Luke-. Rhaena answers, shrugging with simplicity. Daemon blinks, wrinkling his lips briefly.
-Hours ago, in fact-. Baela laughs a little, looking at him with an amused pity, something Rhaena reproached with her gaze.
-Ow, hells-. The boy tsks, scratching one of his arms-. I don't want to train alone with Jace-, he mumbles under his breath, knowing how harsh his brother could be when Daera was not around.
Daemon loses his eyes on the book, gripping its pages with force, clenching his teeth a little. He thought of the uncountable times Daera has been going and going to the capital every moon, by all means. Fraternizing with those green asses.
The Rogue Prince grunts under his breath, having a bad gut feeling hidden deep his chest.
■ ■ ■
-My Queen-
With her hands crossed over her belly, Alicent turns around when she heard Ser Criston from her chamber's entry. In there, firmly standing, the knight looked at her with his lips closed.
-Yes, Ser Criston?-. Her brows raised, looking softly at him.
-Your grace-, he tilts his head-. I don't find him-. Cole said.
Alicent presses her lips, confused, and then sighed tiredly, walking to the exit quickly. Cole took a step aside, letting her out.
The Queen, now, is heading to her second son's apartments, walking with her hands tensed at the sides of her body. All of her green jewelry tinkled as she walked.
-As if wasn't enough with Aegon wondering around-, she mumbles with a scoff. She reaches the doors, sighing and knocking on them quickly-. Aemond!-, The Queen calls.
Silence answers her for ten seconds.
Alicent tsks, not even thinking of knocking again. And so, as the mother she is, she grabbed the handles and opened with no prior notice, doing it quickly.
-Aemond-, she names with a sigh-. Cole has been looking for you and Aegon since-
But she shushes, and stops as soon as she encountered with an empty chamber. Her son, who is supposed to be training at the moment along his brother, was not here either.
-But where is he now?-, Alicent complains, clapping her hands stressfully on her thighs, looking around, founding no one-. He and that beast...-she mumbles under her breath, automatically thinking he was out with Vhagar.
The Hightower sighs again, shaking her head with stress and turning around. She did not even notice all of the clothes in the floor. But how could she? They were hidden under the bed of the chambers.
She outed the rooms, closing behind her and walking away with the thought of Aemond being outside of The Red Keep.
But, actually, he is very inside of it.
Right behind the walls of his chambers, The One-Eyed Prince was hidden in the secret passageways of the castle. Matters to say, he was not hiding alone.
-Oh, Daera, fuck...-. He bits his lips.
His head was resting against the stone wall, as well as the rest of his body. Fully naked. In the middle of muted moans, he looks down with a fasted breath and a breathless smile, nodding excited.
He had his big hands cupping all of Daera's head. And she, with not one garment on, was kneeled in the floor, in front of him. Her mouth was fully hugging his cock, sucking it back and forth, making such a slushy sound they both loved.
-You do it so good, my girl-, he whimpered sharply, smiling down at her. While also playing with his two balls, she was staring up at him, having a smile on her eyes-. Daera-, he smiles-. Fuck!-, he cried weakly, feeling her tongue licking all of his dick's point.
-Shush, prince!-. She insisted with a funny whisper, separating from him and licking her wet lips. Aemond grunted, caressing her ears with his thumbs, clenching his teeth-. You wouldn't want your mother to hear us, would you?-, she asked tauntly, landing a soft kiss on his point.
He responded with a growl, pulling her head and suddenly making her to suck his dick again, shutting her mouth. Daera laughed with a snarl, sucking deep with her cheeks and digging her nails harshly on his white thighs, making him to clench them, moaning.
-Oh goddess, oh my goddess-. Aemond sobbs, so satisfied, closing his eye and resting his head against the wall again-. Make me cum again-, he pleaded with a lustfull moan.
Daera closed her eyes with confidence, knowing that she will.
■ ■ ■
It was late, in Dragonstone, it was truly late. Therefore, everyone was sleeping.
Except Daera, rarely.
The princess was by herself in the kitchens of the castle. There was not one cook working, of course, and it was only her, and a candle lighting lightly her surroundings. Daera was in a corner, calmly standing, and quickly drinking a Moon Tea.
Aemond's teas are incomparable and, sadly, this is not one of his making. However, the effect was the same, and that is the only thing she should care for. But, oh, come on. How delightful is he? Always adding cinnamon or mint to her teas so that they taste good.
She has grown quite fond of his teas.
After sipping the cup, Daera bit her lips with a foolish smile, losing her gaze on the candle and herself in her thoughs. She remembers how, just hours ago, she was with Aemond in their island. They fucked so hard, gods be good. He did a thing, he did the thing.
She was riding his cock, normal. He was lying on the sand and grabbing her hips, moaning her name and praising her talents. As usual. But suddenly, he did a thing where he spinned their whole position. Aemond made her kneel, and then pinned her in the sand, grabbing her hips so strongly and burying himself in her, so deeply, from behind. Daera moaned, warlike, against the sand, having to turn her head to see how he grunted, smiled and clapped her ass while thrusting in her endlessly.
Definetely an evening to remember.
The princess giggles, naughty. Within a second, her expression changes when the doors of the kitchen suddenly squealed a little. She gasps and upped her gaze, with the steaming cup in front of her.
-Daera...-a soft voice names her.
It was Rhaenyra. She was dressed with her night garments, which fully pronunciated her belly, so round and big by now. The princess entered the kitchens with a calmed steps, smiling softly when he found the girl in here. Daera bumps in her place.
-Rhaenyra!-, she whispers with surprise and reproachment-. What are you doing here? Why didn't you send a servant?-, Daera asks with a tsks, tilting her head.
-Ah, no need of such-. Nyra denies with a tired tone, slowly walking towards her, having a hand behind her back-. I do not think the servants would understand my craving of cucumber with honey on it-, she sighed.
-Pardon?!-, Daera laughs with her nose scrunched. Rhaenyra laughs too, placing a hand on the table besides her, taking some air.
-And you, what...?-. The pregnant women shushes herself, letting her gaze fall on her steaming cup. A white thin liquid. Rhaenyra's expression starts to getting serious, closing her lips slowly, confusing her-. Daera-, she named, low.
-What?-, she whispers, shrugging. The Heir gulps, shaking her head briefly.
-That is Moon Tea-. She whispered, tilting her head. Daera clenches her jaw, staying silent and looking ashance to her almost empty cup-...We both know what that is for-, her voice was really low.
-Oy, we do, we are women-. Daera smiles quickly and dryly, not flinching. Rhaenyra presses her lips and moves her head to a side, looking at her almost daring-. Do not-, she warned, speaking tense.
-The first time I didn't say a word, but this is the second time in the moon I catch you with this on your lips-, Rhaenyra whispers quickly and strongly, pointing at the cup with her hard eyes.
-Then maybe you should stop your night cravings-, Daera shrugges and raised her brows. She instantly sipped again, deeply, and Rhaenyra scoffed with disbelief.
-I will not play that game, miss-. The Heir firmly denies, and the princess shivered before such tone, hating it so much when it was towards her-. You are having too much fun, Daera-. She warns, looking at the tea-. And if you keep like that-
-Let us stop right here, before this gets further-. Daera suddenly interrupts, shaking her head with force. Nyra flickered, looking at her in shock-. I am sorry, Rhaenyra, but you are not my mother-. The girl denies with fierceness and even pity, looking up and down at her-. 'Tis not the first time I have to remember it to you. I acknowledge your concern, but do not lack it-. She dictates, so deffensively.
-And do you presume that will halt me?-. Rhaenyra smiles sarcastically, approaching more to her. The pregnant princess had to pretend her words did not hurted deeply on her warm chest-. I worry for you-, her brows curves.
-And I for you, perhaps you should return to your chambers, these late hours don't play well to your mind-, Daera smiles with forced kindness, pointing to the door.
-Daera, do not push me back-. Rhaenyra shaked her head with an insisting voice, looking directly at her eyes. The young girl watched her with a deep annoyance and shame, gulping-. Listen to me, when I was your age I too used to have-
-Mother?-, someone else speaks. The little Joffrey entered the kitchen, sleepy and scratching one of his eyes.
The princesses instantly shushed, turning to look at him, exaltated. Rhaenyra let her lips opened, and Daera took the last sip of her tea, staring at her, and making her to gulp with reproachment.
-Daera...-she whispers, begging.
-Joff, my good boy-. She smiles and walks to the child, leaving Rhaenyra sighing tiredly, looking at the floor-. You looking for your mother?-, she asks tenderly, caressing his hair.
-Uhum-, he answers with a sleepy humm.
-Well, there she is-. Daera pointed at her. Silly, Joffrey started walking to her. Rhaenyra creates a tiny and warm smile, opening her hands towards him.
-Come, sweetling, what are you doing awake?-. Nyra whispers when he reached her side, hugging to her. She sighed, seeing how Daera walked to the door.
-See that your mother arrives well to her chambers, warrior, that's an order-. Daera said at the kid, who smiled sleepy.
She looked at Rhaenyra, who looked back at her with a serious reproach, begging her with her eyes to not walk away. Nevertheless, Daera smirked at her, and outed the kitchens, leaving with no remorsement in her.
The Realm's Delight shook her head, bemused, caressing distractedly Joffrey's brown hair.
■ ■ ■
-Where are you going?-
Aemond stopped right on his place, pressing his lips and sucking his cheeks when someone spoke to him. He hums, low, turning around.
His mother was staring at him, serious, standing from the other side of the hall. Placed at the other extreme of it, her son turns to her, silent, wearing a long black leather coat, hooded.
-Where are you going?-. She repeated, raising her brows.
-Daera has left the castle already, so Helaena got bored and now has a craving-. He answered, crossing his hands behind his back-. I will do her the favour of looking for it-, his head tilts to a side, calm.
-Outside, to the city?-. Her eyes narrowed with a smile of disbelief, staring at his clothes-. I believe we have servants for such tasks, son-. She points, obvious.
-No servant of ours rides a dragon-. He said walking towards her-. Helaena wishes for something from outside the capital-, he informs. When she saw him from closer, her face instantly dyed with disturbance-. Mother?-, he asked, alerted.
-Aemond...-she whispered with a thin voice, losing her eyes below of his chin. He looks at her, confused. She has seen this in Aegon, she has seen this in everyone, but...him?
She raises her hands, aparting almost harshly his jacket's neck, pulling its fabric down.
-Ow, mother!-. He squeals, confused.
-What are those?-. Alicent whispers, placing her fingers on his neck. His neck, full of purple hickeys.
Now understanding what she meant, he froze, pressing his lips and sighing through his nose. His mother looks at him with disbelief, not having any words to describe the feeling.
-Are- are you seeing someone?-. Alicent asks with a string of voice.
-Mother...-he softly speaks, taking her hands and pulling them away with all the tenderness of the world-. Those are my own matters-, he recalls, whispering.
-Don't I have the right to know who is marking my son?!-. She discusses fiercely at him. Aemond sighed taking a step back-. Are you frecuenting the Street of Silk? Is that where you've been escaping to so constantly?-, her eyes narrows.
-Why?-. Aemond faces her with his eye wide opened, clenching his jaw-. Do you not think me capable of being with someone where gold is not involucrated?-. He asks sourly, acussing her. He wanted to stray off the topic, but his question did was a hurted one.
-No, that is- that is not why I meant-. Alicent quickly denies, trying to grab one of his arms, but he stepped back again-. Aemond!-, she reproaches.
-I already told you where I am going-. He says emotionless, turning around and walking away with firmness. His mother tsks ansiously, grabbing her own elbows and breathing fast, following him with her gaze.
-Aemond!-, she insists.
Not even having the slight idea he was heading to a hidden island in the middle of The Narrow Sea.
Where Daera was expecting him, so dearly...
Caressing Kalistrox's head, Daera smiled when she saw Vhagar coming out of the clouds. And, from Vhagar's back, Aemond smiled when he looked down at the island, seeing her in there. Very soon, he was landing, approaching to her.
He cuddled her face, and she grabbed his neck, making their lips meet with a hungry and desperate kiss, smiling in the middle of it, feeling their skins burn against each other. As usual.
-I damn you, Daera...-he whispered over her nose.
-What did I do now, my prince?-, she whispered back with a cocky smile, caressing his abdomen.
-My mother saw the love bites on my neck-. Aemond mumbled, smirking too, nearing to one of her ears. Daera smiles funnily-. The love bites you made-, he purred.
-Ow, silly me-. The princess sighed with fake remorsement, feeling his hands grabbing her ass-. Will you finally introduce us then?-, she smiles, burlesque.
Aemond grunted with a laugh, looking so amused at her.
■ ■ ■
One moon.
One moon turns into two moons.
Three moons, we count.
Four moons, then.
Five.
It has been six whole moons.
The moon was being eternally observed by Daera's eyes, which were shiny, and the brows above them, furrowed.
-Oh, come on...-she sighs, ansious, wandering her gaze around the dark sky. Meanwhile, her hands were caressing Kalistrox's chin. His head was placed above her shoulders, looking up too with his golden eyes narrowed as well-. Where is he?-, she whispers under her breath.
The night has fallen, and she is in the island, alone with her dragon. Both of them arrived almost an hour ago, expecting for their usual companions, Vhagar and Aemond. They were suppose to be here already! But, they are not, and that is starting to worry her.
Daera tsks, stressed, placing her hands on her hips and tapping her foot on the sand, still wandering towards the sky.
Aemond told her he would take off minutes after her. But, again, that was an hour ago, and there has been no signal of him or his dragon. Has something happened?, she wondered, beginning to feel a heavy sensation on her chest. Daera gulps, playing with her own hands.
-Shall we go back?-, she whispers, turning around to Kalistrox, who looked at her with a soft growl-. Maybe we should go back-, she nodds, doubtly, and he blinks-. Let's go back-. The princess decided, standing firm and walking to her saddle-. If anything, we meet in the skies-, she decided, beginning to walk on his wings.
But, in that very moment, Kalistrox pushes her shoulder softly with his head, and growls towards the sky. Daera flinched, instantly turning around her head with her brows up. And, then, she saw Vhagar finally coming out of the clouds, not emitting one roar, soaring in the dark and blue night.
Daera immediatly sighed, curving her frown and turning fully towards there, smiling relieved.
-Seven fucks-, she whispers with a smirk, caressing her dragon's chin again, making him purr-. There they are-, she smiled to him, pointing to the sky.
Vhagar, fully silent, flaps her wings and fly above the island, finding a spot to land. With her hair being blown by the she-dragon's flapping, Daera narrows her eyes, looking at her rider. Aemond had his jaw clenched, and his fists tightly helded to his saddle, looking down. He was...tense.
The old dragon finally lands, making the island to shake, as usual. Daera gave a last caress to Kalistrox, and then started walking towards there, with her lips curiously opened. She sees how Aemond climbs down Vhagar's ropes and, as he did that, he breathed heavily and fast, having his mouth so harshly closed. He was not seeing her approach, for he was facing her with the sightless side of his face. However, the princess keeps approaching, crossing her hands over her belly.
-My love...-she calls. Aemond stops when he hears her, landing his feet on the sand, and keeping his hands grabbed to the ropes, staring front-. You seem tense-, she says, doubtly, looking at his black eyepatch.
-Greetings, my dear-. He speaks, and at the instant of hearing his tone, she bit her lips with worriness. This was the tone he always uses when he's angry. An emotionless voice, ironically-. Do I?-, he asks about her statement.
-Yes, you do. And now I'm more than sure, just by hearing your voice-. Daera instantly nodds-. What happened?-, she asks, softly. Aemond's jaw clenches even more, staying silent-. Aemond, look at me!-. She firmly orders, taking two steps foward.
He abruptly turns his head, facing her, and finally landing his eye in her. This was wide opened, blinking with impotent and angriness. Daera's gaze dyed with concern, tilting her head and staring directly at him.
-I have been waiting for you-, she says-. We have-. With a mumble, she points at Kalistrox, who was not so far from her. Aemond looks at him, giving him a really quick smile, and then looks at her again, with his chest slowly coming up and down.
-I apologize, my dearest, if I took too long-. He says. The fucking tone was still there, which made her sigh even more concerned-. But I busied myself with something I was not planning-, he shakes his head.
-What?-. Her voice is firm, nearing one more step to him.
-I heard people talking-. Aemond, as well, walks towards her, separating from Vhagar's rope. Daera grows confused, narrowing her two eyes and tilting her head briefly-. Me, as their topic-. He says, coldly. That is when she understood, automatically. Her lips closed, and her nose stops breathing. His was red, and the surrounding of his eye too.
-Fuck-, she quickly says when she became aware of it. He had been crying.
-Some lords and ladies of the court, dining in a hall. I was in the hidden passageways behind-. He narrates, tightening his fist at the sides of his body-. One would think they'd be discussing matters of the realm-, he blinks fastly, staring down at him-. Hmm, but the matters of my eye seemed to be more interesing, who would have thought?-. He speaks dryly. Daera curves her eyebrows, sucking her lips with worriness.
-Do not listen to them-, she whispers, shaking her head and grabbing his arms softly. Aemond gulps, opening his eye even bigger.
-The ladies saying how they shiver when they see me walking near them in the halls. The lords, implying I should have been the one sent to Oldtwon instead of my brother Daeron. I would be better outside of the capital, they all agreed-. Aemond speaks stoppless, blinking as he remembered all the things he heard. Daera gasps, wanting to silence him-. I now know Lord Lannister mocks me silently when he is in my blind side, and his lads laughs with him-, he says. His throat was pulsing.
-Aemond, ignore them, it will make you no good to listen to any of those lies-. Daera quickly demands, raising her brows and gripping his arms with insistance. He grunts under his breath, staring at her.
-Daeron is my mother's favourite boy, they said-. And he keeps talking, whispering with poison. She looks madly at him, pressing her lips-. Why would she send him away, and not me?-. He repeated what he heard-. Why curse herself with having to see everyday her broken son?-. Aemond spits his words.
-That is enough!-, she suddenly shouts, and he flinches-. Those are lies, and you should not listen to th-
-Is that what you say, Daera?!-. Aemond harshly interrupts her, screaming, making her to jump on her place with surprise-. I already listened to them, I have during all my life!-, he grunts, suddenly pulling his arms away from her touch and taking a step back.
-Oh-, Daera scoffs with a dry laugh, looking at him from head to toe-. You may hear them, but what you must not do is listen to them-. She stressed, opening her eyes big-. They have no word in what you are!-, she denies.
-I have no word in what I am! I!-, Aemond points himself with desesperation, shaking on his place-. They talk, and talk and talk about what I am! But is due to what HE made me be!-, he shouts brokenly, hitting his own chest.
-Who?!-, Daera furrows her brows, not giving herself time to think.
-Luke!-. The One-Eyed Prince named him with poison in his mouth and hate in his saliva, and when she heard him, Daera afflicts her throat and closes her mouth, tensing instantly-. He is the reason why everyone talks about me! Will you deny it?!-, he acusses, tilting his head strongly.
-Will you really blame him for all of those wretched who don't know to mind their own business?-, Daera snorts opening her arms at the sides of her body, looking angry at him.
-Well who do you think made me a wretched in the first place?!-, Aemond shouts with a fake smile, approaching to her again and letting her see his pained eye being lighted by the near bonfire. Daera gulps, looking up at him-. Why do you think is so funny for them to mock me?! A Targaryen prince, yes! But a maimed one! Who maimed me?!-, he aks fiercely, knowing the answer so well-. Or are you blind too, as well as everyone else, hmm?-, he acusses, feeling his heart ache.
-I know what Luke did!-, Daera screams in front of his face, fearless. He clenches his jaw, nodding burlesque-. And you know I lament it deeply! You know I do, so don't look at me like that, prince!-. She points harshly at him, who did not even blink-. I am trying to help you here, can you not sense it?!-, she asks tiredly, narrowing her eyes.
-By what?! By trying to convince me of going more blind than I already am?!-, Aemond snorts with sharp voice, feeling his throat itching, his eye burning with borning tears-. By telling me to- to let it slide, Daera? Do you think is that easy?!-, he screams desesperated, hurted.
-No, I did not say it's easy!-, she whimpers with the same desperation, grabbing his cheeks with both of her hands. He sobs, angry, under her touch-. I am just...!-
-Is that what you tell to your bastards?!-. Aemond asked, rapaciously, spitting his words with no repentance in them.
Daera stopped every move at that moment, frozing. Her mouth fell slowly, looking at him with disbelief dyeing her eyes. She could not believe his words. That forbidden word. He had never spoke it before, not before her. And, he just did.
-Aemond...-she whispered, breathless.
-Is that what you tell them?-. He narrows his eye, not minding her shock-. To ignore what everyone says about them, hmm? Has it worked?-, he asks tilting his head. She gulps strongly, having tears on her big eyes-. How easy then-, he laughs sourly.
-Don't do this to yourself-, she pleaded with a whisper.
-People look at them and wonder "are they bastards or not?"-, Aemond pretends confusion, looking around.
-Don't say that word!-, Daera shushes desperate, pushing his chest with her hands. He barely moved.
-But people never have doubts with me. There are no wanders, no questions, no niggling-. Aemond denies sourly, always staring at her, whose brows curved with desesperation, breathless-. That boy is a miserable who lacks an eye, indeed-. He whispers poisonly, shaking his head with slowness. She grunts and sobbs, warning him with her eyes-...A monster-, he spat his words.
-Stop it!-, Daera screams shakily, hurting her throat when doing so. He growled, tightening his fists nervously-. Do you want to know what I fucking tell them?! I tell them no one else fucking matters! That they should care about what they think of themselves, not about the others's opinion! They are the ones who decide who the fuck they bloody are!-, she yelled loudly, trying for him to truly listen.
-Well then, my love, your heart is fulled with a blind hope!-, Aemond denies quickly, smiling fakely at her, who snorts in disbelief, planning on talking again, but he did it faster-. But mayhaps it works for them, I admit!-, he nodds, so pained-. I confess that I sometimes envy the bastards! Because- because they can ignore what they are, but I am unable to do so!-, he cried with sourness, felling how his tears started to roll.
-Aemond!-, she names with a shaky reproach, stepping foward to him, feeling her throat ache.
-Everyone fears my eyepatch-, Aemond sobbed, filled with shame and impotent, looking at the sand while feeling all of his body shaking-. But I am the cursed one, because everyday I have to see what is behind it-, he spits, and in that moment he slouched briefly, feeling how his left eye had a sudden shiver-. Every day I'm the one who- hells!-, he grunts, placing a hand quickly on his patch.
Daera blinks, confused and worried, staring at him with her breath really fastened, shaking her head while hearing his words.
-Abnormal-, he whispers with his head low, swallowing his shivers and pretending to not be feeling them-. I disgust myself-, Aemond snapped, hateful.
-Stop!-, Daera sobbs, lighted by the moon and the fire-. Stop thinking about my brothers, stop comparing yourself to them! They have their curse, and you have yours!- she pleaded, desesperated.
-Are you defending them, once again?!-. He asked with disbelief, hurted, breaking his voice even more.
-No! I am pleading you to think about yourself!-, Daera quickly cried, desesperated, looking for his broken and teary gaze-. I am pleading you to worry for yourself, and no one else!-, she says thinly but firmly, having her cheeks wet by her tears.
Aemond's lips trembled, and he looks up at her, also crying. He blinks and breathes with pause, staring directly at her in silent, almost confused, not understanding what she meant. Daera tsked with lament, nearing more to him.
-Your own respect and love is the only one you need-, she tried to convince him, speaking lowly and hurted. Aemond blinks, with his brows furrowed-. It pained me...to hear you talking like that about yourself-, Daera mumbles with an honest sadness, looking at him-. Because that is not how I see you-, she denies with sorrow.
-You don't know me-, he whispered, defensive, almost not believing himself.
-I swear I do-, she whispered with a nod, staring deeply at his healthy eye, which was covered by sour tears, as well as his cheeks.
-You don't-. He stressed, but she did not flinch even for a second, not taking his words seriously. Aemond gulped, scared of his next words-. You have never seen me as I really am, Daera, without the mask I have to wear to not fright the children of the realm...or the adults-, he says, afflicted, shaking his head.
Daera looks at his eyepatch, scrutinizing it with her eyes, which were worried, but also softening slowly under his weak gaze. She blinks, looking at his eye again, silent. And then she gives a nod. Aemond felt everything twisting on his inside, gasping breathless and furrowing his brows.
-No-, his voice comes out as thin as the wind, terrified-. That would change your whole perception-, he fears, taking a step back.
-Let me see it-, she says. He gulped, instantly shaking his head from side to side, closing his eye, feeling like he was in a nightmare-. Aemond-, she calls softly.
-N-no, Daera!-, he stturers-. I will not ruin the image you have of me!-. He profoundly denies, and she curved her brows. Aemond sobbs, deeply worried-...I don't want to lose you...-the prince whispered, pleading.
Daera closes her lips, gulping and staring worried at him, also softly. Slowly, she approaches. Aemond breathes ansiously, watching her every step, seeing how there was not one doubt in her eyes. On the other hand, he felt like he was about to faint, sincerely scared of her desires.
-I won't tear it out of your face-, she whispered, shrugging. He blinks and gulps, unconciously playing with his fingers-. But I want you to know...that you won't lose me because a piece of leather-, Daera mumbled lowly, slowly placing her hands on his arms. This time, he doesn't stepped away.
-How are you so sure?-, Aemond asked under his breath. And he saw how she breathed a tiny smile, looking ashance at the sand and then at him. She seemed so wise, all of a sudden, he thought. He knew her coming words will be meaningful, and he expected them heartly.
-All this months, our meetings in here-. She briefly looks around, pressing her lips-...They have been no pastime to me-. Daera denies. The prince looks deeply at her, feeling his heart beating slowly, at the same pace of her words. She bit her lips briefly, staring up at him, and starting to caress his arms-. I do not see you as a kill-time, cousin, and I am sure you do not see me as one either, I hope-. She mumbles tilting her head.
-I do not-, he instantly whispered, truly listening to her at every second. She sighs, making silence for a moment just to appreciate him, all of his face, reading every inch of it. She blinks sort of fast, gulping and opening her lips again.
-Aemond, I...-. Daera seems to interrup herself, almost doubtly. He felt his heartbeating stopping for a second, thinking she was going to admit one deep feeling-. I want to see you-, she thinly whispered instead, caressing his arms. He blinks softly, sidening his head to the right-. I won't fear you...and you won't lose me-. She promised, dearly.
And, even if everybody think it otherwise, The One-Eyed Prince do has a weakness. She.
Aemond finally touched her too, holding the hands that were placed on his arms. They were so warm. Daera looks at him with her lips briefly opened, curious of his next move. Aemond interwined their fingers, and pulled her down softly, beginning to bend his knees. The princess, doubtlessly, copied him, also going down with him, not separating their gazes.
The princes kneeled on the sand, being lighted by the close fire. Their hands, helded, gripped dearly against each other, just loving so much to hold like that. Daera crossed her legs, acomodating. Aemond did it too, crossing his long legs and sitting in front of her, focused on her telling eyes. Calmed.
The dragons were behind their respectives riders. They never truly walked away from Vhagar, so she was right behind Aemond, lying in the sand, breathing quietly and staring at them. Kalistrox slowly approached too, moving with his wings on the floor, and he lyed behind Daera, placing his head on the sand and also looking at them, with his breathing softly growling.
Daera and Aemond, lighted by the white moon and the orange fire, stared at each other, caressing their thumbs in the middle of their silence.
The one-eyed prince gulped, slowly, and then he separated his hands from hers, directing them towards the back of his head, where the patch was tied up to a few strands of his mane, holding his tail of hair. Daera stares at him, silently, seeing how he wandered his fingers around the place, but he was constantly gulping, and clearing his throat, not doing anything.
Was he truly ready for this? The only person that can bear to see him without his patch is his mother, and that doesn't even happen that constant. And here she is, Daera, patiently waiting for him to show her, wanting him to. He was nervous, but not doubtly. Aemond thinks how he called her brothers bastards, for the first time in front of her. And yes, she got mad because of it, but at the same time she still worried about his self-detest, his wound. The last time someone had to choose between the bastards and his wounds, they chose the bastards. Viserys did. That night, in Driftmark. His father went crazy because the single mention of the slander, and did not care about his lost eye. Daera, however...is here, not afraid of seeing it.
-My love...-, she calls, bringing him back to reality.
Aemond blinks, realizing that he was still just going around his patch, not even touching it yet. He gulps, sighing through his nose, and looking at her.
-Could you do it?-. He then asks, lowering his hands. She opened her lips, inevitably surprised-...Please-, he added.
-Of course-, Daera whispered, nodding quickly. Aemond nodded too, grabbing his own knees and gripping them with nervous.
The princess blinked, and then she moved, kneeling again on the sand and approaching slowly to him, who looked up, nailing his eye on hers. Daera sighed briefly, now being taller than him. She looked at the back of his head, were the patch was, and she slowly directed her hands to there, tilting her head with curiosity.
When he felt her hands touching the leather, he gulped, lowered his head, and placed his hands at the sides of her hips, grabbing them softly and nervously. Feeling how warm her heart got, Daera shushed quietly, caressing his hair with one hand, and placing the other on the patch's band. Aemond sighed through his nose, resting his head on her stomach, and letting her do her thing. He hummed lowly, closing his eye, and feeling how rapidly his heart was beating.
-Can I?-, he heard her whisper, waiting for his final permission. Aemond pressed his forehead against her belly, feeling how soft it was, suddenly wanting to sleep on it.
-...Yes-, the prince answered with a tiny mumble, nodding slowly.
The princess inhaled deeply, landing her hands on the leather, and beginning to take it away unhurrily. She started to take it away as slow as she could, wanting to see if Aemond would stop her. However, he did nothing to halt her. He kept his forehead on her stomach, and his hands on her hips, caressing them with nervous, breathing a liitle uneasy.
Afterwards, the usual pressure on his head dissapeared, and he felt how his tail of hair got loose, falling freely on his back. Daera sees the eyepatch on her hand, holding it carefully, inspecting it all. She never thought she would ever hold Aemond's patch, a lot less to take it off him. But here she is...and here he is. Patchless.
She looked down, and he began to look up, doing it leaisurely. She felt how the fingers on her hips tighted harder, but it did not harm her. Daera waited, silently, placing her hands on his shoulders, and bending her knees again, relaxing her posture, and slouching in front of him. After gulping, Aemond finally faces her, raising his head towards her.
And, with this, she found the bluest of blues. The most beauteous of jewels. A blue sapphire was the one filling Aemond's left eye socket. And the fire reflected against it, shining all on her surprised face.
He saw how her lips separated, and her eyes lightly narrowed, staring endlessly at the jewel he had instead of an eye. His love was not scared, but surprised. An honest surprise was on her gaze, looking amazed at the unexpected sight.
Aemond, shaking, feels the tears on his funtional eye, how they rolled silently on his right cheek. He gulps and opens his mouth, staring shyly at her, feeling so vulnerable.
-Days before your mother's funeral, in Driftmark, some ships arrived to the capital...loaded with sacks fulled of shapphires-. Aemond tells with an extremely low voice, speaking so thin. Daera blinks and looks at his eye, having her pupils hugely expanded. However, his eye looked down-. Criston took us to see them, and they were beautiful-, he nodds, shaking.
-They are-, she whispers, bemused, mesmerized, looking at the sapphire again. He raises his brows briefly, noticing her fascination. This made him to gain a little more posture, sniffing his nose.
-When we were back from High Tide, and I was already left-eye-less, I remembered about them-, he whispers with his gaze down, sucking one of his cheeks from the inside-. And I...put one in there, to make it, at, least less gross-, Aemond said, to then press his lips.
Daera tilts her head, and her hands went to his jaw, lifting it slowly and making him to see her. The prince blinked softly, seeing her eyes, how they were so softened and easy. She smiled briefly and tinyly, caressing his chin.
-I am not scared, as you can see-. Daera whispered. Aemond sighed, biting his lips and caressing her hips with his thumbs, bemused by her comprehension-. Nor grossed-, she added with a small laugh.
With his wet cheek, and wet eye, he smiled shakily, staring at her as she was the most divine creature. Perhaps she is.
-Could you take the sapphire out?-, Daera asks, calm and curious. He, nonetheless, froze scared.
-Daera, you- you would puke-. He says, truly worried, shaking his head from side to side. She laughed, grabbing his cheeks dearly, taking the tears away with her fingers.
-I will swallow it then-, the princess shrugged funnily. He curves his brows, disbelieved-...I will not puke, my prince-. She promised and cleared with a smile, trustfull.
Just when he was thinking she was brave, she asks for this. This woman is fearless.
Without separating his gaze from hers, Aemond directs a hand to his coat, taking out a little sack of green fabric from one of the pockets. Daera stares curiously at it, and then he handed it to her, having his lips pressed. She instantly took it, holding the both sides of it and blinking, intrigued.
Aemond let her hips go, now nearing both of his hands to where his left eye once was. He stopped centimeters from it, gulping harshly. He inhaled through his nose and gulped again, seeing with his healthy eye the sapphire's shine reflected on his near fingers. He curvess his brows, moveless, staring at them with untrust.
-You don't have to do it-. Daera's voice said, quickly.
He looks at her, finding a worried look on her eyes. She sensed how nervous he was, and so she stopped him. Aemond, afflicting his throat, eyeballed her expression. No mock in it, just a sincere preocupation. She thought he could not do it. And he decided, bravely, he had to show her otherwise.
Two fingers of him pulled down his socket, making the hole bigger, and other two passed just above the sapphire, literally entering on his eye socket. Aemond sobbed, brokenly, trying to not move much. Daera's faction got loose, entranced by seeing it from so close. He sobbs.
-Aemond-, she whispers worried.
The prince grunts under his breath with harshness, feeling the tears coming out again. Nearly mouth-opened, she sees how the fingers from inside pushed the jewel, grabbing it, and pulling out slowly. He whimpers weakly, taking his fingers off his face.
The sapphire fallls inside of the sack, and Daera's frozen hands closed it slowly.
Aemond's lips, tembling endlessly, shook as he looked up again, facing her slowly with his face red and his eye full of tears. He breathed with sorrow and shame. Thirst of vengeance glanced on his gaze too.
His left socket was naked. And it felt different, different to seeing the sapphire. Now she was fully staring at a empty hole in his face, where there was no drop of blood, where the meat was so long healed and dry, being of a pale color pink, almost purple. She saw the trace of veins who once were there, behind an eye. There still were some blonde lashes. There was no eye to be found.
The One-Eyed Prince, in all of his glory.
The curiosity on the princess's eyes was left behind, and what now ruled her gaze was pain, and disbelief. All this years, hearing about his maiming, knowing about it, of course. But...seeing it was just different. Looking at that cave in his face and the long scar surrounding it was a true sorrow, and depressing. And there is no one who knows that better than him.
Daera tsks lowly, curving her brows and tilting her head to a side, staring at the wound. Full of tears, and sobbing quietly, Aemond stares at her with shame, knowing exactly what she must be thinking and wondering. If this is the man she has been kissing and fucking with. A dissapointment of a man when he takes off his mask.
-Are you scared yet?-, he whispered sourly-. Aren't you grossed out yet?-, his voice asks, full of pain.
Daera looks hurt at him, not believing how badly he perceives himself when being without his patch. He is more wounded than she ever thought. He is stronger, than she ever thought.
She just shakes her head, multiple times, letting out a weak sobb, and nearing her lips to his head, pulling his neck from behind. Daera, then, kissed his scar, doing it longly and deeply. Aemond trembled below her touch, sighing surprised and closing his eye, feeling her warm mouth. She dragged her lips around all the scar, kissing it on one side and caressing the other with her soft thumbs. The prince moaned weakly, hugging her hips again and closing her more to him.
-You will never fright me-. She denies with a whisper, landing her mouth close the socket, kissing in there endlessly, time after time. He sighs bemused, having his chin dripping the tears that fall from his eye-. You will never gross me-, Daera mumbled with sadness, gripping his neck quickly and then caressing it with tenderness.
Unable to answer with a proper voice, Aemond just sobbs and huggs tight to her, hiding his face on her chest, and crying in there. He was overwhelmed, in the best of ways, by her actions and words. He felt understood, once again, by his goddess. Vhaggar growls lowly, skimming her nose against his back, caressing it. Daera sighed sadly, holding his head and hugging him even tighter, letting him hide on her chest, letting him soak her dress with his only eye's tears. She would never deny him this.
-Oh, my poor sweet thing...-the princess sighs, melancholic, caressing his loose mane with her two hands. He sobs lowly, slouched while hugging her-. Does it hurts?-, she asks with a whisper.
-No-, he mumbled against her chest-. Only my scar remains with some sensitivity. Sometimes the socket shivers...when I get too agitated-, Aemond whispered, slowly separating his face from her chest, wanting to see her eyes.
He did, finding a river of tenderness and compassion in them, towards him. The one-eyed young boy sighed, looking at her with tiredness, and softness. That mix made him look sort of confused.
They stared at each other, centimeters away. He was slouched and breathing weakly, while she was smiling tinyly and caressing her thumb against his scar and eyehole.
-You are not a monster, my darling-. She denies, raising her brows softly-. You are...-another kiss was placed on his wound, making him humm thinly-...divine-, she whispered-. You are even stronger than I thought you were-, her voice speaks to him with tenderness and honesty.
Aemond admires her with confusion. He pictured himself, having his face naked and staring directly at her. Any other would look away, any other would shiver, or puke. He had to ask her.
-Why...why are you always so good to me?-. He questioned, perplexed. Daera flinches a little before such question.
She gives him a sided and bemused smile, tilting her head to a side and causing her double chin to show when she laughed under her breath, never staring away from his gaze.
-Then you are going to make me say it, huh?-. She snorts briefly, playing with his hair in one hand. Aemond furrows his brows lightly. Daera bits her lips and smirks sideways, blinking, and looking at him tenderly-...Because I love you, Aemond-. The princess whispered, caressing his scar.
Aemond went blank, opening his lips. He forgot how to blink. He felt his heart jumping a thousand times and then running around every vein on his body. He turned breathless. He looked how she smiled nervously at him.
And he smiled, at last. Letting a lot of air out, he formed the biggest smile of his life, curving his brows with bemusedment and excitement.
-Daera-, he named, holding her face with his two hands. She chuckled, doing the same to him-. I love you too-, he sighed, pulling her close and landing his lips all over her face, kissing her endlessly.
Daera laughed without air, looking at the sky while feeling all of the kisses he placed on her forehead, cheeks, chin, nose, eyes. And, finally, on her lips. Aemond kissed her deeply, and she sighed, gripping his head and kissing him even deeper, furrowing her brows almost with relieved. She felt in heavens when she heard him saying it back.
Kalistrox and Vhagar were staring at them silently. The dragons's hearts beated with easiness, sensing how they were now feeling the same, after all the dispair and sorrow. At last, they were breathing.
Daera and Aemond separated from the kiss, and they rested their foreheads together, smiling at each other happily and lovingly, in the same way she kept caressing his scar and cheeks.
-There are feelings, in this life, which I never thought I would have the pleassure to feel-, Aemond whispered over her nose, looking at her eyes. She, watching his from close, listened with a smile-. Things I never thought I'd see-, he denied-...But here you are-, his voice filled with amazedment, staring at her with so much praise-...My second eye-, he called her, caressing her jaw softly.
-Oh I love that-, she sighed, and he laughed, wrinkling his eye adorably-. I love you-, she sais again, silly smiling.
-Gods be good...-he weakly sighed, clenching his teeth for a moment-. I'd kill to hear that every night, to say it back to you every second of our days-, Aemond wished deeply, caressing her cheeks with love.
-If only-, Daera tsked softly, whispering against his lips, smiling towards them. He hummed lowly, looking at her with some sudden curiosity.
-Daera-, he named, having all of her attention-. Would you wed me?-. He asked. Daera's eyes opened really big, and her mouth fell with a shocked smile, wordless-. If- if I ever dare to ask you-, Aemond quickly clarified, raising his brows.
-Ow, hells, I was already planning on looking for my gown-. She tsked with fake dissappointment. Taking that as an answer, he laughed breathless, feeling how bright his eye was shining. Daera smiled, excited and moved, landing a long kiss on his nose, which made him laugh even more-. I would wed you doubtessly, my love-. She whispered dreamy and amused, moving her forehead against his-...Would you wed me, if I ever dare to ask you?-, she asked funnily.
-Immediately-, Aemond nodded dearly, kissing her nose too. Daera pressed her lips with a tender smirk, kissing his scar once again-. One day you'll be my wife, trust me on that-, he whispered.
-I'll trust you on everything, my love-. She whispered, honest. Aemond smirked teary, staring lovingly at her.
■ ■ ■
-I am just saying, if we ever have to go to Winterfell, I will hide in the Dragonmont and no one will find me-. Baela dictates, arms crossed.
Jace and Rhaena looked confused at her. Luke, who was calmly lying on the grass, also did.
-The Starks make me nervous, alright?!-. Baela instantly defended herself-. They are too serious...and pretty-, she mumbled shrugging.
Jacaerys narrowed his eyes.
-Op, there she is!-. Luke suddenly stands from the grass, looking at the sky with an excited smile. The others looked too.
They four were in one of the high mountains of Dragonstone, being surrounded by the sea and the wind. And now, they were seeing how Kalistrox appeared in the near skies, flying mighty to that same hill, being ridden by The Rogue Princess.
-Here, here!-. Lucerys jumps and moves his arms from side to side, wanting to catch her attention.
From the sky, Daera saw those four little points on the mountain, and she laughed, grabbing her saddle.
-Move away, idiot, if you don't want her to crush you accidentaly!-. Jacaerys snorts grabbing one of Luke's arm and dragging him away from there.
Lucerys laughed amused, looking at the sky. Baela and Rhaena, smiling, looked at there too, seeing how the golden dragon was flapping quickly towards them, with the morning sun making all of his scales shine divinely.
Soon, Kalistrox landed powerfully in the mountain, making it shake a little. From not too far, Jace, Baela, Rhaena and Luke smiled, not waiting a second to run towards her. Seeing them running, Daera laughs and quickly gets down from her saddle.
-Is it my name day?!-, she asks funnily, opening her arms while walking down Kalistrox's wings.
-Better!-, answered Rhaena with excited claps.
-Oh fuck, what could be better than that?-. Daera mumbles, taking her little sister's neck from behind and landing a kiss on her forehead-. Hello, by the way-. She says funnily. Rhaena laughs, still breathless due the running.
Baela laughs, greeting her older sister with a kiss on her cheek. Daera smiles at her, and then looks at Jace, pointing her other cheek to him.
-Gods, you are a grandma-. Jacaerys scoffs, walking to her and also kissing her cheek, making she and the others laugh.
Daera turns to her last sibling. The sweet boy, Luke, was already waiting for her, with a smile. Daera couldn't hold a sigh when she saw him, thinking that this is the one who Aemond cursed so much last night. The one who made him the way he is today, as he said. The one who held the dagger that took his eye. But, contrary to Aemond, she felt no resentment when looking at him. Contrary to Aemond, her love, she knows Luke was just a child back then, a scared one.
And so, she smiled dearly to him, grabbing his neck from behind and nearing him to her. Lucerys laughed placing a sweet kiss on the same cheek Jace did, separating with a smile.
Daera, thoughtfull, sided a smirk, looking at the two brown-haired boys, remembering the word bastard that she heard so many times last night from Aemond's mouth. She looked at her sisters too, thinking how they and herself have never used the slander or payed attention to it. Even after her last night's serious talk with Aemond, she came to realize something. No action will ever make her hate her siblings.
-How was your visit to the capital?-, Luke asks with a kind smile, having his cheeks red.
-Ah, exhaustating-. Daera sighs heavily-. Queen Alicent talking about the bloody gods, Otto acting like he knows every tale of The Seven Kingdoms, Aegon being an ass, and Helaena's belly about to bloody explode-, she says tiredly, making them laugh amusedly.
-I can only imagine-, Baela says in the middle of chuckles.
-Glad I didn't go-, Jace sighs.
-And Aemond?-, Rhaena scrunches her nose with a face. Daera raises her brows, slowly shaking her head.
She remembered how he fucked her in one of the rocks of the island's beach last night.
-Umm, I didn't see him that much, actually-. She shrugged. Yeah right-. But enough about the capital. What is that is better than my name day, as you said?-. She asks pointing at Rhaena.
She bit her lips with a crazy smile, almost trembling on her place of excitement.
-Grandma is here!-, Rhaena shouted with a happy jump, raising her brows high. The others nodded, smiling too.
Daera deflated, looking shocked at them.
-Fuck! And you say it now?!-, she screams, and in an instant she shoots out running. Baela and Rhaena laughed loudly, following her.
-Come on!-, Jace shoots out too and drags Luke with him, making him scream exaltated.
The five siblings screamed and laughed loudly while running down that hill, chuckling because Daera's constants swearings. Kalistrox occupied himself and flew back to the sky, joining some of the dragons in there, all of them calmly flying.
Soon, the princes and princesses reached The Chamber of The Painted Table. Daera was the one opening the doors, doing it quickly with both of her arms, arriving with a fasted breath and a huge smile along the others.
Rhaenyra, Daemon and Rhaenys turned to look at there instantly.
-Grandma!-, Daera calls happily, running to her.
-Daera-, Rhaenys sighs opening her arms, seeing how the living image of Laena ran to her. She hugged her with dear laughs, while Baela and Rhaena walked to them, smiling too, already having greeted their grandmother.
Silently smirking, Lucerys and Jacaerys walked to their mother, who held their hands as she looked to the girls with a sided smile. At her side, Daemon was also quiet, staring with a silent smirk how his girls lovingly hugged their grandma.
-Gods, you are shining-. Rhaenys sighs with a proud smile, looking at the three brown-skinned girls, who smiled dearly at her-. And you are glimming-, she mumbles, narrowing her eyes towards Daera.
Daera laughs fakely, remembering a time when her grandmother told them about that glim a lady shines with after having an encounter with a gentleman. Also remembering the same talk, Rhaena and Baela narrowed her eyes too, looking at her suspiciously.
Well, if they ask, Gronn will be the answer.
-We'll speak later-, Daera instantly whispered-. What are you doing here, grandma?!-, she shouts with a happy smile. Her sisters giggled covering their mouths.
-Yes! We can not longer wait to know the reason of the blessing of your visit, princess-. Rhaenyra says with a smile, caressing her bulging belly with Luke's hand on hers.
-Ah, well-. Rhaenys sighs, holding Baela's hand in one of hers, and Rhaena's and Daera's in the other. Looking at that, Jacserys secretly craved for his grandma's love too-. The reason is a bittersweet one, I must say-. She muttered, lowing her head a little.
They stared curiously at her, keeping silent. After another sigh, princess Rhaenys smiles and raises her gaze again, gaining strength from her granddaughters's touch.
-The nameday of my husband, Lord Corlys, is getting everytime closer-. She informed, and the faces of the chambers, especially the children's, instantly turned sad when thinking of The Sea Snake, who has been lost in wars for years-. And, even though he is not with us at the moment, I decided this year his day of birth is ought to be properly celebrated-, she dictates, siding a smile.
-Oh grandma...-Rhaena whispers, caressing her fingers with dearness, trying to comfort her. Rhaenys smiles softly at her.
-A most loving gesture-, Rhaenyra sighed, moved, nodding.
-Indeed-, Luke quickly agrees, smiling sadly towards his grandma. She smiles at him in the same way, blinking slowly.
-And when will this be?-, Daemon asks with an easy tone, having his hands resting on The Painted Table.
-On a fortnight, in Driftmark-. Rhaenys answered uppering her chin, looking at everyone-. All the invitations were already sent this morrow, but I wanted to come and invite you personally-. She admits with a smile, directing it towards the girls, who smirked back at her-. High Tide will be hosting all the houses of the realm-, she informs proudly.
-Ahaha, quite a party will be-. Rhaenyra scrunches her nose with a smile, looking at Jace, who nodded excited.
-To Driftmark, yes!-. Rhaena celebrates excitedly.
Everybody got excited for the upcoming party. But no one was close to Daera's excitement. Her eyes opened widely and her mouth opened with such a surprised smile while everyone kept talking. She got lost in her dreams.
All the houses of the realm, said Rhaenys.
So yes, it is obvious. It is official. It is more than clear. It will happen! Aemond will also be in fucking Driftmark!
-YES!-, Daera shouts thrilled-. It will be the best fucking name day on grandsire's bloody name!-, she raised her fists victoriously.
-Daera!-, named Rhaenyra and Rhaenys with reproachment.
Daemon, along all the others, laughed amusedly and sharply.
■ ■ ■
" King Viserys and Queen Alicent,
We extend you a formal invitation with the meaning of the celebration of Lord Corlys Velaryon's six and fifthieth name day. The feast will be taking place in Driftmark's High Tide along Lord Corlys's dearests family members, and all the great houses of the realm. Your children, the princes, are most than kindly invited. We expect your presence joyfully on a fortnight from today
The Lady of Driftmark, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen "
Slowly, Aemond lowered the paper in front of him, reading it time after time endlessly. His eye was shining as a star, and his lips breathed a surprised smile, reading every word with all the attention of The Seven Kingdoms.
-Ha...-he snorts a muted laugh, raising his gaze with a big smile-. She will be there-, he whispered hopeful.
And, seated in front of him, Helaena smiles and nodes the same way, wrinkling her eyes with happiness while caressing her big belly.
-Yes!-, Aemond celebrates, turning around and walking around her chambers with the invitation still in hand, reading it one more time-. Lord Corlys's dearest family members, she logically will be there-, he mumbles sillied, with a smile.
Helaena follows him with her gaze, amused.
But all of a sudden, she felt a sour feeling on her chest, making her to grunt lowly and furrow her brows. Her throat afflicts, and she feels deeply uncomforted, emitting a sharp whimper. She touches her heart, blinking rapidly and a lot of times, wrinkling her nose and then opening her eyes widely.
Helaena lands her eyes on Aemond again. He still was wandering around with a smile, reading the invitation with quick whispers and low laughs. She blinks rapidly, looking worried at her brother.
-There is a grass between the tides-, she whispered thinly.
■ ■ ■
Taglist:
@mommyslittlewarcriminal @loxido @jamie-in-flannel @grungegrrrl @aemondswifey @poppyflower-22 @melaneigh2 @stargaryenx
#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#aemondtargaryen#targaryen#the one eyed prince#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen fanfic#if villain bad why hot#baela targaryen#daemon targaryen
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Queen of hearts
Chapter 2
Tw: f/f, fingering, oral, dirty talk, hair pulling, choking, semi public sex. I think that's all?
The first thing you see walking into the library, is Mira, in a tiny black two piece, her legs crossed sitting on the couch reading. You take her in for a moment. The exposed skin of her thighs making your mouth water. You wonder how they'd feel with your face between them. "See something you like?" She asks looking up from her book blinking in faux innocence. She's the devil and she's doing this on purpose. "Actually I was admiring your commitment to modesty. You would stop hearts in something more revealing." You reply sitting in the chair beside her. She pouts at this and closes her book. This woman makes it so hard to not close the distance and claim those pouty lips, but you had actually planned on reading tonight.
"What are you reading?" You tap her book in question. "Hunting Adeline. I'll let you read it when I'm done with it. I think you'll find it... entertaining." Her black hair brushes her shoulder as she tilts her head with a smile. "I'd like that very much. I'm almost done with when you were mine. I figured I'd finish it now." You pull out the book she previously gifted you and begin to settle.
Maybe the knowledge of her barely covered body beside you was distracting, maybe it was the fact that every few moments Mira was crossing and uncrossing her legs, but finishing the book proved impossible. You decided to steal glances at her as you pretend to read. She had to be doing it on purpose. Fuck. Her bikini bottoms hold her so perfectly, you find yourself drawn to how it clings to her most intimate parts.
"Something wrong?" You ask, giving up on your book. "Oh, um, no. Nothing's wrong." She waves her hand blushing. God help you, this woman was going to blush screaming your name before the end of the night. Smiling with a sudden interest in what has her blushing, you lean towards her and say, "I can't seem to get into my book at the moment. Why don't you read yours aloud?" The blush intensifies on her delicate features. "I.. um.. I don't.. know" She stutters.
You move over to sit beside her on the couch, and lean closer, your lips ghosting against her ear as you whisper. "Give me what I want." Her breath catches and you inhale the floral scent of her neck before softly kissing it, making her hum and lean into you. "Please?" You ask placing your hand on her thigh. "Okay." She whispers back. You can already feel yourself getting wet.
Mira slowly and quietly begins reading you one of the most disturbingly hot sex scenes you've ever heard. You groan into her neck and bite her as you rub your hand up her thigh slightly. She squeaks at the sudden attack on her neck, but rolls her head back offering you easier access. "Don't stop. I wanna know what happens next." Your voice is breathy. You gently bite her ear and she moans but continues. Every sound she makes sends electricity to your core.
Needing better access to her body you pull her till she's sitting between your legs facing away from you so you can see the pages of her filthy book over her shoulder. Wrapping your arms around her you spread her legs and she arches her back stuttering. "Don't get distracted, sweetheart." You say scraping your nails along her thighs. Mira whimpers before continuing.
Slowly, one hand makes its way between her legs and you gasp feeling her soaked bottoms. "Oh fuck, baby. Is this why you're so restless?" You ask taking her throat with your other hand. "All worked up and nothing inside you?" You squeeze her throat causing her to thrust against your hand and drop the book. "Tsk that's no way to treat literature." You squeeze harder and rub her through the wet fabric. She tries to close her legs to get more fiction but you stop them with your legs locking them in place.
"Anyone could come in. See you like this. So needy." You release her throat and she gasps for air. "please." She half whispers half moans. "Please what?" You reply sweetly, pinching one of her nipples through her top. "Mmm please. More." You've never heard her sound so undone. "Of course, pretty girl. Anything for you." And you dip her hand into her bikini bottoms sliding a finger between her wet folds. Mira bucks her hips into your hand, soft moans escaping her.
"Shhh, listen." You slide your finger inside of her and she cries out. You slap her hand to her mouth to keep her quiet. "I said listen." As you pump your finger in and out of her the sound of her wetness fills the room and she whines into your hand and clenches around your finger. You feel your clit throb in response. "So messy." You lower your hand from her mouth and slide it under her top messaging her bare breast.
Mira turns and shoves her face against your neck as she tries to hold back her moans. Her hands wrap themselves into your hair as you add a finger, curing them inside her. " Y/n, I'm s-so close." She stutters thrusting against your hand. "Oh yeah, pretty girl? Gonna cum for me? Gonna make a mess?" You say as you fuck your fingers into her harder but keeping the same pace. "Uh huh," she nods as she pulls your hair. "That's it. Come on, cum for me. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl." You feel her cunt clench tighter and she throws her head back moaning as she soaks the couch, and your hand, in her cum.
Once Mira catches her breath you pull your hand out of her bottoms and show her the mess she made. "I'm all sticky thanks to you. Don't you think you should help me clean them up?" She blushes but leans forward and take your fingers into her mouth. You gasp at her tongue hungrily cleaning your fingers, grabbing her by the hair, you begin fucking her mouth with them. "So fucking pretty." you hold her head in place so she's forced to keep eye contact.
Slowly you slide your fingers deeper into her mouth until they won't go any further and you feel her swallow around them. "I'm going to fuck your filthy mouth sweetheart." You moan as you remove your hand from her mouth and she keeps her mouth open, tongue out on display, begging. "Oh? Is that what you want? Want me to claim your mouth?" You taunt and move to sit beside her. She nods eagerly before you lean in and kiss her deeply. Mira's hands find their way to your body, exploring it with desperation.
"Get on your knees." You command, whispering into her mouth. You untie the side of your bikini bottoms and spread your legs as she sits between them. Miras panting practically drooling as she watches you. Before you can tell her to, she leans forward wrapping her hot mouth around you clit. Moaning you grab her hair and buck against her mouth. "Look at me." Her eyes, half closed, lock onto yours before rolling back as she groans against your cunt. "You're doing so good, baby. Fuck, that feels so good." You moan and her eyes are back on you.
Her light kitten swirls on your clit turn into an intentional attack as she pulls one of your legs over her shoulder. Good god, how was she so good at this. Your body feels hot as your orgasm builds. Arching your back you thrust against her, using her hair as a handle to rub her tongue exactly where you want. Mira digs her nails into your thigh and moans into you, sending you over the edge. Your legs squeeze together trapping her as you cry out coating her face even more with your orgasm.
#reader insert#alice in borderland#imawa no kuni no alice#fanfiction#mira kano#f/f fanfic#f/f ship#library#pretty girl#theres more i was just excited to post this#submira#goodgirl
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ASOS; Steel and Snow: 04 TYRION I (pages 53-66)
Bronn gets Tyrion caught up on some missed events, the Tyrion takes visits his father. A bad time is had by all.
-
... damn, Tyrion has lost a lot of ground while he's been unconscious. Cersei cleaned house.
A moment of Silence for Jacelyn Bywater, probably the best Commander of the City Watch thus far in the series. Not a high bar, but he still did his best.
...
right, now what else has gone to shit?
Alayaya! Cersei you!!!! >:(
After all his planning, after the sortie and the bridge of ships, after getting his face slashed in two, Tyrion had been eclipsed by a dead man.
tsk, that's mean. Tyrion's poor back after carrying the entire battle from the planning to the fighting, and then this disrespect!
...Tyrek, Tygett, Tywin, Tyrion... hmmmm... Tyjaime XD
Sorry, just... a few Ty- names in the Lannister house. tradition, trend or coincidence?
"- I visited your sickbed as often as Maester Ballabar would allow it, when you seemed like to die."
Oh. My. God. Tywin Lannister is a Tsundere Confirmed!!!
I'm joking, obviously. But it would be nice to know if there was genuine care for Tyrion in those visits, or just duty to the seemingly soon to be deceased.
"Your chain was a clever stroke, and crucial to our victory. Is that what you wanted to hear? I am told we have you to thank for our Dornish alliance as well. -"
Was that so hard? Did that physically hurt you, Tywin? Tyrion also made sure they had enough wildfire and that it was distributed effectively, and that the crews didn't set themselves alight firing the damned substance. Not to mention he organised the men and got them fighting when the city was at risk, and dozens of 'invisible' other efforts besides, sure you 'saved the day' but if not for Tyrion's efforts, there wouldn't have been a day to save!
War is shit, and terrible, and we should not be setting it like a trophy, but FFS, Tyrion gave so much for the safety of the city regardless of motives or his own personal safety, so yes, THANK HIM!!!!
assbut
... Cersei, I retract the previous bout of thinking bad names about you re: Alayaya. ahem:
Alayaya! Tywin you!!!
"And make no mistake - this was the last time I will suffer you to bring shame onto House Lannister. You are done with whores. the next one I find in your bed, I'll hang."
In light of Shae's fate in the show (which as far as I'm aware is ultimately the same as the book) *looks at the camera like we're on The Office* that feels ironic.
... has Tywin always this thoroughly unpleasant? Or is it because my POV character is recently recovered from near death?
#a storm of swords#steel and snow#a song of ice and fire#tyrion lannister#a chapter a day reading#asos#asoiaf
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Chin lift to make you look directly at their eyes that just make you follow aimlessly and without much force really. (bonus if they kiss afterward) Odin and Kenna
Soft Touches
Words: 912 Tags: surprisingly none?
I heard that story about how Odin got his hands on Freyr's sword and I just.. I had to find some way to write about it. So this was born hah. Thank you for this prompt!! It was super fun to write.
There was a new sword in Odin's study or maybe Kenna just had never noticed it before. Though it was not a new sword to Kenna. Distinct memories of Freyr waving it around came to her mind—and also the claims that it would never be set down by the man unless death or love parted it from him.
Kenna leaned forward, humming in thought as the sword chimed at her, struggling against it's bindings. She reached out to run her hand down the length of the blade with a soft comforting sound to soothe it. Once upon a time, when she was a different person she wondered if Freyr would give the sword to her—his sister's closest friend. But in truth that was merely girlish daydreaming about a romance story that was never written. She'd only ever wanted the sword because of the statement it made.
Besides, she had her own romance story now, one she wrote a new page for every day.
“Dearest,” Kenna said, hearing footsteps come up behind her on the stone floor. A hand splayed against the small of her back, following the curve of her spine until it rested at the nape of her neck. “How did you get Freyr's sword?”
There was no accusation in her tone, she had long since severed her ties with the Vanir and all those who she had once called friend. They wouldn't call her friend in return either, she was a traitor to her people for going to Asgard in the first place. Call it mere curiosity into their fate than anything else.
Odin drummed his fingers against Kenna's neck, slowly sliding around until he could tuck his index finger underneath her chin.
“He's not dead,” Odin began with a small tsk and tap of his thumb against her bottom lip as if he was lightly scolding her. “If that's what you're asking.”
“No I wasn't-” Kenna began, but her words soon faded out as Odin guided her face up and to the side to face him as he stepped around to meet her. He was wearing a mischievous expression unlike anything she'd ever seen before and it stopped Kenna in her tracks.
“Let me show you,” Odin said. The tattoos that adorned his skin glowed with magic and then the magic rippled in the air obscuring her view until the form of Odin wasn't standing in front of her anymore.
Instead, in his place when the magic cleared, was a woman. She was beautiful in an ethereal way, almost too perfect from her rosy lips, to her freckled skin even down to the curl of her long dark hair and the way the fabric of her dress hugged her body. And she was still touching her face.
Kenna blinked, once... twice... before she felt the warmth flood her cheeks. That... he.. she.. This. Kenna didn't know how to process this. She was so caught off guard all she could do was simply stare in a mixture of surprise and admiration.
A warm melodious laugh that was not Odin's bubbled forth from the woman that made Kenna flush even more.
“Odin.. I..” Kenna stumbled over her words, her voice going up slightly in alarm as the fingers clutching her chin brought her ever so closer.
“This is how I parted Freyr from his sword,” Odin hummed, leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of Kenna's lips. Even his voice was different—soft and feminine. He repeated the motion on the other side with a flirtatious purr. “Love can make people do the most silly things—like give you their enchanted weapons in a surprisingly fast turn of events.”
Odin placed a single kiss against Kenna's mouth before pulling away—and with it the magic of his transformation broke and Odin was standing before her once more like the whole thing hadn't just happened.
But it had happened, Kenna could feel the tingling against her lips and the heat on her skin and the way her heart fluttered in her chest.
Odin was still smiling at her—obviously very amused by the situation he has caused.
Kenna cleared her throat, a million questions running through her mind that she couldn't formulate into words.
“Do you want the sword?”
Odin's question brought her thoughts to a standstill. Everything she had been thinking gone in a single sentence. He let go of her face and gestured to the blade almost dismissively.
“The sword, do you want it? I'm not using it.” He repeated with a shrug.
“Oh,” Kenna murmured, glancing back at the blade with a furrow of her eyebrows. Once upon a time she might have jumped on that offer, hold something she had coveted so dearly when she was young and foolish.
But she knew better now.
“No, thank you, Odin as kind as that offer is I'm going to have to decline,” Kenna finally said. She straightened and stepped towards him, sliding her arms over his shoulders. “I have no need for that old sword. If love makes people do silly things then have a new blade forged for me with your love, hm?”
Odin seemed pleased with her answer like she'd passed some unseen test. He kissed her again before guiding her away from the blade where it was tied to talk about this sword of her own she wanted.
Loyalty and love are their own rewards after all—even if both make people do silly things.
#ship; kenna x odin#oc; kenna#i know the actual wording said ' person odin transformed into '#but i wanted an excuse to give Kenna bi panic#me when i first made Kenna yeah she's straight#me a week later HAHAH NO SHE'S NOT#inbox#hoesephseed
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I'll Love You Like The Movies page 3
Day Three of @clotiweek
Slowburn • Favorite Ever Crisis Outfits • Howl and Sophie “There you are, sweetheart. Sorry I’m late. I was looking everywhere for you.” - Howl, Howl’s Moving Castle
Cloud crosses his arms and squints his eyes at the stunning figure a few paces away from him. He’s seen her in a different garb before, but this one was something else. The back of his neck feels extremely warm, probably from the tropical heat in this area. Costa del Sol always managed to make him sweat in more ways than one. To be honest, he wasn’t really a big fan of this place. However, there was something about the feeling of lightness in his heart when he saw his friends relax.
And the feeling of ease when he doesn’t have to stay on guard all the time.
There was also something about the feeling of excitement in the pit of his stomach whenever he sees Tifa Lockhart come down those steps in her bathing suit.
He takes a sip of his coconut juice and flicks the tiny umbrella on the drink around, his eyes glued to his childhood friend. The first time he’d seen her walking on the sand was embedded deep in his mind. She’d had her hair up that one time. Now, she has it half up in a cute white ribbon while the rest cascade down her back. She’s wearing all white this time with a transparent skirt around her thin waist.
Stunning is an understatement.
She smiles at him from afar while she flips her hair over her shoulder. There it was again, that elated feeling in the pit of his stomach. Tifa whispers something in Aerith’s ear making the brunette laugh and glance his way. Yuffie inserts herself between both ladies and hooks her arms around theirs, pulling them closer as if she needed to discuss something important. And just because he is super focused on his childhood crush, Cloud could see the way her cheeks turn red and the way her carmine eyes look sideways as if she is aware of his presence from afar.
The ex-Soldier gulps. He tries to catch a glimpse of her outfit once more, only to be caught red-handed as all three girls were looking back at him. With haste, he sips on his drink and nearly chokes when it goes down the wrong pipe.
“Hey, don’t go gettin’ distracted and dying on us.” A large hand smacks his back while he coughs. Barret lets out a scoff beside him. “Tsk, last time we only had to worry ‘bout those two blending in, but now there’s a third one.”
Regaining his composure, Cloud couldn’t help but agree while also chuckling a little bit because if there was one person who wasn’t blending in, it would be the large guy in the sailor suit sipping on a tiny piña colada.
He looks up again to check on Tifa, only to frown when she’s nowhere to be found.
“Looking for someone, loverboy?” Cloud looks over to see Yuffie sitting on one of the boxes close to them, swinging her legs. He can already tell that she is up to no good.
“I, uh.” He looks in the direction they just came from and sighs when he can’t find Tifa anywhere.
“You are too obvious.” Aerith says in a singsong voice. She bends down to pet Nanaki and grins up at him.
“She went back to get some sunscreen. She was concerned that you’re looking too…” The young ninja looks him up and down. “Red.”
“Odd, it doesn’t seem as hot as it was last time we were here.” Aerith chimes in.
Cloud tries to seem uninterested in the conversation but can’t help but want to find Tifa.
“She went up the steps again.” This time, Cloud’s eyes widen when Vincent joins in. The blond narrows his eyes at him.
“You seemed concerned about Ms. Lockhart’s whereabouts.” The sentence was so straight to the point that Cloud doesn’t even feel like denying it. So what if it was obvious that the monk held his favor.
She’s had it since they were young. Surely, there was no reason to hide how he actually feels.
“Right.” Without hesitation, he heads down the direction the gang said she was going. And almost trips on the sand when he hears Cid’s last comment.
“Don’t yer forget to use protection!”
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He wonders how long he’s chased after Tifa Lockhart. Wonders why he felt the need to do so now when she’s merely going back to get something.
He wonders if he’ll always be chasing after her.
Probably.
If he had to, he'd go to the ends of Gaia to…
There, he spots her among the crowd and instantly frowns. Since he’s always been good at reading her body language, Cloud knows that she’s on edge right now. Tifa is surrounded by at least four men. The way they’re a little too close to her personal space tells him that they weren’t as considerate as the others on the beach who tried to speak with her, but at least maintained some bit of distance.
“If you don’t mind, my friends are waiting for me.” The bartender turns to her right and attempts to walk past them.
“Wait a minute, Miss.” A tall man with his hair up in a ponytail blocks her way and grabs her wrist.
Cloud starts making his way towards them, he can see her forming her hands into a fist. But she is holding back, probably because she did not want to scare the people around her.
“See that hotel over there?” He points to the biggest one on the island. “I saw you play the piano earlier today. My suite is actually the largest they have, and has a piano, too. If you like, you can play for me and my buddies over here.”
She pulls away from him, but his grip becomes stronger.
“Listen, I don’t want to cause trouble. If you could just let me go.” She pulls harder and loosens his grip. Caught by surprise at her strength, the other man stumbles.
“What the fuck?!”
Before anything else could happen, Cloud wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her to him.
“There you are, sweetheart. Sorry I’m late. I was looking everywhere for you.”
“Cloud.”
He shields her from the men gaping at them who were too afraid to do anything, not with the giant sword he had. Cloud knows Tifa could have handled this on her own but also understands how she did not want to cause trouble for everyone else around them.
The mercenary pulls her closer and directs her to Johnny’s Inn, acting like a protective lover to ward off the assholes.
“Cloud.”
“Keep walking.”
He looks back at those sleazy bastards and glares at them. They grumble and turn the other way.
“Are they still looking?” Tifa is biting her lip while she leans into him, as if she’s using him as an anchor to keep from teaching her assailants a lesson.
“They’re gone.” He could feel her shoulders relax.
And just like that, suddenly, he is aware of the warmth of her body by his side. The palm of the hand touching her skin feels like it’s burning, but in a good way, like the softness of her was a welcomed connection that he did not want to sever. He wants to pull her even closer but stops himself especially when for some reason…
Tifa does not pull away.
She does not pull away.
It takes a second for that to sink into his Mako-infused mind.
He’s walking with Tifa Lockhart with his arm around her shoulder.
He’s touched her before, several times in fact.
His body shielding her from the train tracks. He could still smell the fragrance of her hair.
His arm wrapped around her waist to keep her from falling. His eyebrows had furrowed at how tiny she felt despite her physical prowess.
His hand in hers as they waited in line for the Skywheel. He did not want to let go, never.
The couple walk as if in a daze. He lets go of her for a minute as they maneuver between the crates leading to the inn they were staying at. As they approach closer to their rooms, he lets out a sigh of relief when he notices that Johnny is nowhere to be seen.
Tifa stops outside the girl’s bedroom and kindly smiles at him.
“Thank you, Cloud. For earlier.” she averts her eyes from him and turns around to open the door. He almost wants to step in with her but stops himself. Now was not the time. And even though he’s felt like he’s been waiting forever to be alone with this girl, Cloud knows that they’ll have more time to talk later.
She comes out with the sunscreen and falls into stride with him. He doesn’t hesitate in what he does next.
Cloud takes her hand in his and doesn’t let go.
.
.
.
Later on that night, with the calming sound of the waves and the wind brushing against the palm trees lulling him to sleep, Cloud could not help but catch the whispers of the ladies staying on the opposite side of the wall to his room.
“What do you mean nothing happened? We did not just send blondie after you just for nothing!”
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Author’s Note: Day 3 of ClotiWeek2024!
Favorite Ever Crisis Outfit: Tifa’s Passion Mermaid
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