#and he was like ah well you know. i am not very impressive to women... down there

[aro-ortega]

had a dream about pirates but not about my pirate characters.. so i guess i have new pirate characters now

[reccyls]

Your Hand, My Lady - The Mature Butler Pledges Loyalty (Victor story)

My translation of Victor's butler event story

--

As a result of the Evil King's Game, my exclusive butler for the day is...

Victor: Oh dear, how could this be! Turns out there isn't a number 6 after all, so the order gets turned back onto the king!

...the person who started this round of the game in the first place, Victor.

Victor: But one must put their heart and soul into what they have agreed to do, so do allow me to be your butler.

Kate: S-sure. I'm looking forward to it.

(Victor as my butler... I wonder what that's going to be like?)

...

Kate: Mm....

Victor: Ah... Apologies, Lady Kate. Did I wake you?

Daylight streaming into my room pulled me from my sleep.

As I sat up, I noticed Victor drawing open the curtains.

Kate: It's fine...

(Oh, right. Victor's going to be acting as my butler for the entire day today.)

Victor: Heh. Are you still sleepy?

He spoke quietly, almost in a whisper, mindful of how I was only barely awake. His voice was sweeter and gentler than usual.

Victor: You have no duties to attend to today, so if you wanted to sleep in, that would be no trouble. It is still half past 5 in the morning.

Kate: Half past five...? Then, I'll sleep a little more.

Victor: Of course. Sleep well, and I will let you know when breakfast is prepared.

...

As I curled up in bed once more, Victor silently approached and adjusted my blanket.

With a warm, ticklish feeling in my chest at Victor's care, I enjoyed my extra bit of sleep that morning.

After I had my fill of sleep, Victor woke me and I got dressed for the day. I also enjoyed a delicious breakfast.

Kate: Today's breakfast was really good!

As Victor spoke, he held a fork with a piece of apple up to me.

Victor: That is good to hear. I'll be sure to pass your words on to the chef.

Victor: ...My lady, how about some fresh fruits for dessert? Say 'aah'.

Hesitantly, I ate the offered fruit.

(Is he really going to feed me...?)

(Is this a normal thing for butlers to do?)

Kate: Mm, this is good too!

Kate: ...But, um, it is a bit embarrassing to do this.

The gap between me and Victor felt smaller than normal today.

It wasn't just regular kindness I could feel in the depths of his words and his expressions. He gave off the impression that he truly and deeply cherished me.

Victor: Please do forgive me.

Victor: I was enjoying myself too much and I have ended up making you uncomfortable.

Victor: Could you find it in your heart to forgive such an incompetent butler...?

Victor: Thank you very much. My lady is truly kind.

Kate: You don't have to apologize! You're not incompetent at all!

Kate: Please just keep doing what you think you should. If I'm actually uncomfortable with something, I'll let you know.

...

(I basically spent the entire day with Victor. It was a lot of fun.)

...The truth is, this past week, I'd seen some pretty horrible things during my missions with Crown.

I wanted to go on those missions so I could get used to that kind of tragedy, but all I ended up doing was make myself more and more depressed...

(...And that's when Victor proposed the Evil King's Game, and he ended up as my butler for the day.)

(Thanks to being able to spend time with him, I feel a lot better.)

But just like nothing sad lasts forever, neither do the good times.

Every hour that passed was one hour less that I would be able to spend with Victor.

Kate: Oh, thank you. If you don't mind?

Victor: Ah yes. Before dinner, may I braid your hair, my lady?

Victor: During breakfast and lunch, your hair seemed to bother you.

Victor: Of course not, leave it to me. I'll be sure to style your hair to be both practical and beautiful.

Victor sat me down in front of the mirror. Parting my hair with a comb, his large hands began to braid my hair.

Kate: ...You really know a lot about women's fashion, Victor.

Victor: I am your butler, but I do usually work as the queen's aide.

Throughout the day, Victor was careful to ensure that my clothes wouldn't end up dirty, and helped to suggest complementary accessories when I was unsure which ones to pick.

And the hands working through my hair were obviously very familiar with the act of braiding.

Kate: Oh, right...

Since he worked closely with the queen, it made sense that Victor would have picked up a deep understanding of women's fashion.

I was embarrassed that such a simple thought never even crossed my mind.

And not only that, but I became aware of a muddled feeling not unlike fog spreading through my chest.

(I had thought that I was the only one who would be able to see Victor as a butler.)

(I just didn't consider that I wasn't the only person to know this side of Victor.)

Victor has a lot of friends and acquaintances beyond just Crown, and I've never seen the face he wears in front of them.

For some reason, today, that obvious fact was like a dagger to my heart.

Kate: Victor, can I ask you for something?

(Is there a side of Victor that only I know...?)

(...Ah. That's right.)

Victor: Of course, my lady. Whatever you need, I am at your disposal.

Kate: This isn't something that happens every day, so I wanted to see you wearing a butler's uniform.

Victor: A butler's uniform?

Kate: Yeah... Have you ever worn one before?

Victor: No, never... And if this is what my one and only lady wishes of me, then I do not mind wearing one.

Kate: I'd love to see it!

And so, Victor went to go put on a butler's outfit.

(Maybe that was kind of heavy-handed of me, but I'm really excited.)

As I stood in the hallway waiting for Victor to be done changing, William approached.

William: Kate, have you seen Victor around?

Kate: He's in his room right now. Changing his clothes, to a butler's uniform.

Kate: Huh...?

William: A butler's uniform...? Ah right, he is our little robin's butler for the day, isn't he.

William: Sorry for this, but may I borrow your butler?

William: Her Majesty has summoned Victor for an emergency.

(Victor is my butler for the day... but the queen's orders take priority.)

Kate: Okay. It's Her Majesty's orders, after all.

William: ...You seem displeased.

I flushed, embarrassed at being seen through by William, who had let out a chuckle.

(Feeling lonely because Her Majesty has stolen Victor from me... I'm acting like such a spoiled brat.)

Just then, I spotted Victor, who had now finished changing, approaching.

But I knew that if I looked him in the eye, I would end up asking him not to leave, so I made sure to look away from him.

As I held back, William had walked over to meet Victor halfway, and the two of them began to speak.

It was most likely about the queen's summons.

Kate: ...Victor. Do you have a little time?

(Victor is going to leave.)

(But... if I could leave a little of myself in his heart...)

Propelled by a sense of possessiveness I didn't even realize I had, I called out to Victor.

Victor: ...William, can you go on ahead?

Seeing something in my expression or body language, Victor sent William off first.

Kate: Just a second, Victor.

I took one of my ribbons, and tied it around a lock of his hair.

As I told him my wish for him to keep me in his heart...

Kate: ...Today, you're not just the queen's aide, but also my butler.

Kate: Even if you're far away... please remember that.

Kate: ...This is my order, as your lady.

Victor took my hand and pressed a gentle kiss to it.

Kate: ...

Kate: I... I-

Victor: ...Of course. Today, I am your loyal butler.

Victor: And so would you tell me the reason for the fog that clouds your thoughts?

I didn't know whether to reveal the truth of what I wanted, but every second I dawdled was another second spent obstructing the queen's orders.

Gathering my resolve, I opened my mouth to speak.

Kate: ...I'm jealous of the queen, of how much time she has with you.

Kate: If I could... I want to order you to stay here.

(Every moment I spend with Victor is precious.)

(I wish we could be together forever... I've ended up thinking that way.)

Victor: ......

But the reality of the situation is, I'm in no position to make that demand. The queen's orders are absolute.

And so because I cannot always be by his side in reality, I wanted to make a place for myself in his heart.

I turned away from my thoughts, back towards Victor, who had fallen silent.

Kate: I'm sorry. I don't want to burden you, so just--

Hurriedly, I tried to pull my hand back, but Victor raised it to his lips once more.

Kate: ....!?

(Th-that... that wasn't just a kiss, was that his tongue!?)

Seeing my flustered expression, Victor cracked a teasing smile.

Victor's words were full of uncharacteristic seductiveness, and my heart began to pound loudly.

Victor: Just because I am your butler does not mean that you can let your guard down, my lady.

Victor: The more you say such sweet things, the more I wish to mark your body with my kisses...

Kate: ...I remember.

Victor: Do you remember what I told you earlier, when you had dressed up as a maid?

Victor: I said to make sure you only give your heart and your body to a partner you are happy to choose.

Victor: And so... may I think of myself as that partner, my lady?

Kate: You...

Kate: .....Yes. You may.

If I gave the wrong answer or if I evaded, I got the feeling that Victor would slip far away from me.

Determined to tell him the full, complete truth, I opened my mouth.

Victor: I see.

Victor let go of my hand.

(Oh....)

Victor: I'm sorry, I must go now. Until next time.

With that, he quickly walked away.

But Victor did not return before the end of the day.

(I... That was way too forward, wasn't it...!)

(When he comes back, I need to apologize for making things weird...)

...

(I wanted to wait for Victor, but at this rate I'll end up staying up the whole night... I should go to sleep now.)

Kate: Who's there...?

With that thought, I extinguished the lamp and got into bed.

Remembering all of Victor's smiles from the past day, I began to slip into slumber. And just then--

My bedroom door quietly swung open, and a scent that brought to mind a quiet deep night approached.

When I opened my eyes, there was a figure kneeling over me in bed.

Victor: ...It's me. Victor.

Kate: Oh, you're back from the palace...? It's late... you worked hard today...

I was on the cusp of nodding off, barely able to keep my eyes open as I welcomed Victor back.

Kate: And... why are you in my room?

Victor: ...Don't you know?

Kate: Is it about work...?

Victor: Hmm... Something a bit more personal than work.

Kate: Personal? Is there some kind of night banquet that you want to invite me to?

Victor: That sounds lovely, but no. The truth is...

Victor brought his lips to my ear.

Victor: ...I've come to steal your heart.

(Steal my heart?)

Kate: Hehe... There's no point.

Victor: Why not?

Kate: Because you already stole it a long time ago...

Kate: Why do you want my heart anyway, Victor?

I haven't been able to stop thinking about Victor after he left for the palace.

If that didn't mean that he had already stolen my heart, then what did?

(I'm pretty sure his eyes are more beautiful than my heart...)

Victor: Why, you ask?

Victor: Because it's so beautiful, I couldn't help but want it.

Victor: ...

His face was hovering above mine. In the darkness of the room, his eyes seemed to glimmer with light.

As I kept staring, those gorgeous eyes drew closer and closer... His long, beautiful hair fell across my face.

Kate: Haha, that tickles...

I felt the touch of something delicate across my neck, my shoulders.

When I realized that it was Victor's lips pressing across my skin, I felt no desire to push him away.

It made me think of all the times that Roger's corgi, Ale, would play with me. I giggled.

Victor: That's all? It just tickles?

(Huh...? Victor's voice sounds a little unhappy about something?)

As I was wondering what it could be about, Victor's lips moved from my shoulder to my ear.

Kate: ...Ah...

The heat of his tongue traced the shell of my ear. I trembled at the unfamiliar sensation.

Victor: Kate.

He whispered my name into my ear like he was trying to express a secret love that should never be.

With that strange joy held in my heart, my eyes slid shut, and I finally drifted off.

(He's looking only at me...)

(I don't know why, but that makes me really, really happy......)

...

William: ...I saw you paying a visit to Kate's room last night.

After finishing a discussion about work, William wasted no time in starting to gossip.

Victor: Are you accusing me of something?

William: Heh. Does it look that way?

Victor: No. You look like you're just having a laugh.

William: Not quite. I'm not poking fun, I am quite happy.

William: After all, were you not doing what your heart wanted?

William: And?

Victor: I'm sorry to disappoint you, but no.

Victor: I only went to her room to warn her not to give her heart away so freely. And...

Victor: Kate doesn't remember it at all. If she does, she probably thinks it was just a dream.

William: What a shame.

At William's words, a vague smile drifted to Victor's lips.

William: So why did you rig that game in the first place?

William: Surely you must have known there was no number 6 stick in the first place.

William: That's it? No other reason?

Victor: Nothing gets past you, Will.

Victor: Lately, Kate wasn't coping well with the missions she had joined. I just wanted to be able to do something for her.

----

Victor: ....No.

Victor: Even if I did have feelings for her... there is nothing I can offer her.

Victor: Because "Victor" belongs to "Victoria".

Notes: Victor's last sentence is written as "Because I belong to Her Majesty", but what he says out loud is what I have written down.

[raviosrupees]

My parent rates LU Link's based on first impressions

[warning foul language, mention of alcohol, and my parents very negative impression of Wars !!! note this is my parents impression based off of the LU concept sketches + descriptions. a lot of em aren't accurate]

TIME

Very God of War, Kratos. PTSD Link.

when all the others are hanging out he's in the cups. He fought the moon? Sounds about right. Everyone else is talking and goofing off and he's got the thousand yard stare.

No one talks about how he cant get a full nights sleep. Please let him nap. Maybe let the owl take a nap too.

*stares at him for a very long time, before taking a sip of mimosa*

TWILIGHT

blond hiccup [httyd] very viking. Humble? Hiccup. Animal whisperer? Does he have a dragon? he turns in to a wolf? good for hiccup. getting over a complicated relationship? ...... h-

OH HE HAS GOATS? I love goats! Love this guy.

WARRIORS

Ah, douchy paladin! Yeah he's got the hip flex, he knows he's the shit. Very prideful? Of course you are. Leader type? Women problems? Not surprised. [said they most wanted to punch this one]

"This one writes himself. On Reddit forums"

FOUR [their 3rd fav]

"eeny meeny hippy genie" They've got the weird flowy scarf hat, they're super tiny! Dwarf.. chaos gremlin-- No that's a changeling! I don't think that's actually a Link, I think they faked their way in. Not that I blame them, its a pretty cool crew to be a part of. Spy for the fae realm.

WILD

5th grade school photo link. He's really excited for his first day of school and has a planner for all of his classes.

Good at navigation? Kudos for being a good boy scout.

Her 2nd favorite.

WILD

"Legolas Link" he likes to run on snow, flip his hair back + forth and shit talk dwarves [changeling doesn't like that]

"takes any questioning of his princess too personally? Why are they questioning his princess in the first place? *squints* Why is he so upset? Feel like maybe we need some codependency therapy-

IDENTITY CRISIS DUE TO MEMORY LOSS???? oh no, there we go, the therapy- INSECURE? THE ONLY ONE THAT FAILED? Dude, I think douchy paladin needs to take him to therapy-, maybe it'll convince him to get some too.

Proceeds to go into a rant about his sheikah tech being called weird magic: "Why are they calling his magic weird? That's rude ! They need to have more open minds, no wonder he's insecure! He just needs to feel confident and supported in his new environment and they're not being very supportive right now!"

*orders another mimosa*

LEGEND [their favorite]

"We've got stoner wizard link..." "Which one?" "He's wearing red, and like a fancy staff with a ball at the end for walloping on people who say he's not a real wizard" He just smacks em and says duh yes I am, but usually he doesn't bother with it bc he's too chill.

He's the Millenial of the linked universe. "Chooses not to be a leader type? 'Nope, Im good, just here for a paycheck not a promotion. Some PTO would be nice. Another adventure? He'd rather start a commune"

"Seems unaffected by his adventures?" Uhh he is though. He's just delusional about it now.

HYRULE

Classic link [true] silent generation, nobody acknowledges him. "just happy to be included," mistaken as a hobbit.

"He's actually a traveler, never stays in one place" "Ah so post adventure Bilbo baggins, who wants to see mountains again."

*starts singing "the road goes ever on and on"*

SKY

Foppy link. Fabulous haircut, cape swooped over one shoulder with the gorgeous coloring, contrasting belt-- he knows color schemes way too well, he could be in project runway.

"Not the leader type? Sure he's too busy worrying about fabric swatches. Views the master sword as a blessing? Yeah, I bet he does."

Very confidently decided his Zelda is a beard.

[its-in-the-woods]

'Down the Rabbit Hole' Chapter 1

Chapter two chapter three Chapter four

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating: None for this chapter future ones will be adjusted.

Slow build like novel damn length okay, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.

Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.

Note: they are both single, all for fun.

WARNING I do not have this all written out, I do have it plotted out, but it may be a little slower for chapters to come out. Please bear with me. If you know a Beta to edit please send them to me.

Getting the phone call that you're working with Liz again is surprising. You had encountered Liz several times, mostly as a day call trying to get hundreds of extras through a small window of time. She was well-known in the industry as being a giant pain in the ass. Though you had gotten along somewhat well with her, you had never quite felt like the women would have picked you as a second.

Sitting down in the production office you start to fill in paperwork. There is always so much paperwork. Thankfully this would have you working for the next four months. Four months of not having to fill out forms or wonder when your next job would come. Granted you had made a favorable impression with several other heads of department. But if everyone was honest the biz was saturated with less skilled artists who would bend over backward, or forwards, just to get a day in. You flick over the paperwork refilling the same information for the fifth time. 

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second,” It's Liz, done up to the nines as always. Touches of grey hair starting to show against the dirty blonde. She wears all black with a horrid mix of silver and gold jewelry. 

You follow the woman back, completely prepared for her to tell you that you will not be seconded to her. That you'd be moved to 2nd unit or something much more fitting for someone with just “five years of experience”. 

Walking into the little office you place the paperwork on your lap as you sit across from her. The walls have headshots of cast along with information underneath.  You don't pay attention, if you're working a different unit chances are you'd never see them anyway.

“Nice to see you again,” Liz says, you get a feeling that she was putting on a bit of a show. She’s put on a weird smile that doesn’t meet her eyes, not that you could tell she won’t look at you. 

“Likewise, hope you've been doing well,” You reply, you can't stomach being a kiss ass.

Liz makes a humming noise as she flips through the large binder. One of the the few things you both agreed on, is hard copy beat digital work. 

“At the moment you're not going to be seconding with me, you've been requested by the lead.” She gestures over to the wall.

You look over and see Walton Goggins’ face staring back at you. You chew at your lip, you've worked with him twice. Mostly while doing smaller rolls, he had always been easy to work with and hilarious.  

“Ah, I see.” You reply, trying not to act a little flustered. You'd never had an actor request you, it was probably one of the biggest compliments you could get.

“You and Trevor will be working together with Mr. Goggins. I've taken you've read the script?” Liz looked at you through heavy mascara eyelashes. You nodded at the question. “Good. It's pretty straightforward, anything with large amounts of blood will be dealt with by the FX crew. You're basically babysitting and making sure he doesn't wander off covered in gore.”

You can't suppress the laugh at the comment. You could picture the man getting driven away looking like he had murdered a small town. The Teamster would have a fit about cleaning that.

“Sounds good, I am guessing I can increase my pay and kit rental?” You push, requested or not you knew your kit was far better stocked than most. Whether Liz agrees or not would be a moot point.  You could always approach production for a pay raise. Running it through Liz first just kept accounting from jumping down your throat.

Liz stares at you for a moment, her mouth a thin line. For a second you think she may try to argue the wage. Instead, she flicks her eyes back down to her binder.

“Yes, Production has already approved a pay raise for both. As well as sending in a small request for certain products he’d like.” Liz passes you the paper without looking up. On the top is your wage and kit fee, along with product allowance. It's much more than you anticipate, but you keep that to yourself.  

“You can drop your stuff off at the trailer and then go grab what you need. Start things off slow.” 

***

Paperwork done and handed in, you grab timesheets, start packs and, any other office stuff you think the trailer may need. Driving down the narrow alley you park your little Honda Accord beside the make-up trailer. You unload several bins beside the steps before parking. Inside the trailer is pretty sparse. You set out to fill your drawers, stocking the place with all the necessities. Trevor shows up as you're starting to finish up. 

“Heyyyy,” He chirps, coming in with his own kit. The man is tall, slim, with a wicked smile, green eyes, and a riot of brown curly hair. He is a major flirt who loves to chat about anything and everything.

“Hey, Trevor. How have you been?” You give him a hug. The two of you had both started out at the same time and he was as close to a friend as you had in the industry.  

“Oh yah know, just living the dream!” He rolls his eyes, waving his hands in the air.

“Nice we get some space to spread out. Feels homey” You smile as you place paperwork into holders. 

The trailer was a newer model, with four stations, four chairs, mirrors, lights, and shelving. There was also a sink and hair sink. It was nice to have your own space. Often times you were allotted a small tent and much else. But here you had access to everything and it was warm against the never-ending rain. 

“Not to mention getting requested.” Trevor wiggles his eyebrows. “Like I didn't think that would ever happen.”

You both chuckle at the situation. You finish up and make sure all your bits and pieces are laid out. You’d print any notes for tomorrow and get them into binders. Also, need to make sure you are connected with everyone’s clouds. Digital wasn’t your niche but it was necessary. 

“Do you want me to grab anything for you? I am hitting up the usual haunts for goodies.” You ask, grabbing your purse. Downtown would be a nut house but having all the requested products was important. 

Trevor pauses the comb on his chin. “How about I text you the list I need? I think I need like four things?”

“Yep, that sounds good. I will see you tomorrow for camera tests”

***

You do three days of camera testing and running over lighting making sure everyone looks their best. It’s always a flurry, trying to find an easy groove that you all could work with. Liz took the first chair, Katie took the second chair, you were in third, and fourth was slated for fx. It was tight once everyone was in there and warm, but it worked and that’s really all you could ask for. 

Now near the end of the week came the first shoot day. Liz barely makes eye contact with you besides a ‘Good Morning’. You didn’t care, you knew what you needed to do, a detailed email had been sent out last night. Besides Walton, you had three other actors to take care of. Not surprisingly they were all male, Liz’s actual second was Katie. A petite woman with pin-straight blonde hair, a heart-shaped face, and a big personality. She loved doing anything cute and fun. So you got stuck with the rough end of things, but if you were honest that was your wheelhouse. Bruises, cut lips, red-rimmed eyes, bloody noses, looking a bit more disheveled and run down. Yep, all things you could do quickly and efficiently. Hopefully, the AD wouldn’t be too pushy. The first two men are easy enough, you and Trevor fall into a rhythm. Blasting some 80s music as you both drink Red Bulls and dance away. Katie joins in the fun as you all pretend to sing karaoke

The third man doesn’t show, which is annoying as hair in cream blush. You radio the AD who already sounds annoyed. He tells you he will bring Walton over ASAP to you. You let out a sigh and rub your face. You crack open another redbull and take a deep sip. The trailer ran on redbull, which was the preferable alternative. 

“Stepping up!” Yells a familiar voice. Walton comes in with a flurry, coffee in hand, sunglasses pushed up. He wiggles his way through everyone with polite hellos and hugs. He comes over and squeezes you into a tight embrace. You hug back your cheeks going a little pink. The man is striking both in looks and presence, his aura is calm and confident. His hair was jet black with silver sideburns, deep-set hazel eyes, and an infectious smile.

“Oh, it is so good to be back filming. Finally!” He flops himself into your chair crossing his long legs. He is already in costume well fitting jeans and a green button-up. 

“Nice to see you again.” You smile and get to work, “How’s the day treating you so far?”

“It’s been lovely, though I do miss the sunshine. Does it ever stop raining here?.” He chatters on. 

You finish skincare and get down to covering minor blemishes and making sure his eyebrows aren’t too wild. Trevor chitters back with the man as he sorts his hair into something a little neater than the fluff it was before. 

“There you are looking fantastic as always,” You croon and step away from the mirror. The man makes a shocked sound and inspects his face.

“Darlin’ you always make me look as pretty as a painting,” Walton giggles in a higher feminine voice, looking himself over in the mirror. 

“Oh hush,” You giggle back, “get your tight butt to set.” You shooed him out the door, he wiggled his butt and gave you a kiss on the cheek before swishing out the door. 

“That man is hilarious, it’s going to be a fun show,” Trevor stated with a chuckle as he prepared his set bag. “Do you think number three will show?”

You let out a sigh,” Probably not at this point, the AD is going to murder us if we don’t get to set now.”

***

Number three was standing on set, you felt anger roll over your shoulder. He was of average height with a face that looked as if he had a permanent scowl. At least you had brought an extra set bag. You grab the man’s arm firmly, hauling him away to stand under a set light. Trevor immediately trailed after you. He huffs and stands mostly still. You can smell weed on him, and judging by his red eyes he was stoned out of his mind. You hand him eyedrops, and the man sneers at you but puts them in. Letting some of the liquid spills on his face, you sigh.

“Look, nerves are normal.” You mutter more to yourself than anyone. “But coming here stoned and avoiding makeup and hair is not going to win you any brownie points.”

“I don’t need a lecture from you,” The man bites out, walking away as you tuck your brush back into your bag. You grumble and move over to your chair, you make eye contact with one of the AD’s who scoots over to you. 

“I apologize about Arnold not coming to your trailer, I didn’t realize he was here.” The man lets out his own sigh, “It won’t happen again.”

“He doesn’t like us at all. Going to make things a little tricky.” You reply trying not to call him a complete ass about him. 

AD nods his head, “I know. It will be dealt with.”

You walk over to the video village peering at the screens as you say hello to familiar faces. Everyone looked good, even Arnold, at least his eyes weren’t completely bloodshot. You take a particular look at Walton who seems to be letting himself get into character. Something flits in your heart as he looks up at the camera from under his brow. 

***

The day ends and you cycle through secondary actors, Arnold all but running out the door once he is done. You can’t help but glare at the man, the least he could do was say thank you for cleaning his dirty mug. 

You flop down in the chair as the rest of your coworkers clean their things. The buzz of your coworkers is somehow relaxing, you take a sip of cold coffee and clean your brushes. Another knock and you turn to see Walton walking in, he has run his hands through his hair so that it stands straight up.

You let out a chuckle, “Did you stick a fork in a socket.” Getting up to let the leading man sit in the chair. 

“Oh, this?” He says pointing at his head, “I thought it was supposed to look like this.”

The room erupts in laughter as he makes his eyes cross and sticks his tongue out pretending to be electrocuted. Shaking your head you get to work, skincare was just as important as the actual makeup. You were ever grateful the man thoroughly enjoyed being pampered and preened by everyone. Made your job so much easier. 

*I am definitely nervous about posting this. But I hope it's fun and cute. It's going to be a slow build and a lot of back and forth. But I promise it will be fun cute and a little moody. Just a pinch of angst cause why not. *

Chapter two

[rayveneyed]

your third season in society sees you brandished with perhaps the worst title a woman can earn: spinster.

yes, you are 21 years of age, still flush with the heat of youth and womanhood, and you are — according to your societal peers — a lost cause. despite your sizeable dowry (a pathetic attempt at making your prospects more appealing), you're severely lacking in all those skills a reputable, agreeable lady would need; pianoforte, conversation, embroidery, cursive, and perhaps a laundry-list more.

it matters little to you. the only child of an old, wealthy family, you're more than content to take to your corners, dance card empty and cup full, awaiting the day you'll simply be handed your estate. life is easier this way, you think, without having to vet every man that comes in close contact with you — and what about the running of the house, good sir? oh, well, the lady of the house would take care of it all, no doubt! that's the right place for a woman, i say. ah, i see. and children? i come from a family of 9, miss. i'd want the same for my own children. ah... i see...

so why is it that — even considering your icy reputation, and your uninterested gaze, and your purposefully stilted conversation — that midoriya izuku cannot seem to leave you in peace?

truly, you do not know whether you should be vastly offended or begrudgingly impressed by his devotion to seeking you out, no matter how much you object to it. he is amongst the most anticipated bachelors of the season — an old, wealthy family similar to yours; dashing in all the ways loved by women, with his frame tall and strong, his hair fluffy and falling over his big, green eyes. in contrast to his physicality, he is known for his earnestness and kindness, his sweet conversation — and he wastes his skill on you, in vain.

“i have heard of your endeavours into botany,” he whispers to you one night, huddled at the back of a crowd of dance-spectators. a glass of champagne rests in his hand, one fetched for you and promptly refused. you try not to think too hard on how his hand engulfs the flute, and instead turn sharpened eyes upon him. he seems to fluster. “o-only to say that i am enraptured by them, truly—!”

“i suppose you must find me very strange,” you only say — perhaps a bit rudely, a tad snottily, though he doesn’t mind. he only shakes his head with fervour, denying it vehemently, and you sigh internally. he’s like a stray dog that you cannot shake.

truly, you cannot fathom it. izuku has the favour of both the lady tsuyu, the lady ochako, and even the young duchess momo — all willing women with large dowries and pleasant temperaments. all far more suited to wifely duties than you.

and yet it is you who he insists on staying by — it is your parlour he visits, not with flowers but with strawberry seeds and daffodil bulbs for your ever-growing garden. it is your ear that jokes are whispered into, your arm that winds around his whilst you promenade.

you tell him on one such stroll around the park that it is perhaps better for his reputation to leave you be. you’re a spinster, after all, and not known for your kindness. your hobbies are considered strange, your countenances considered rude. he would do better to find a young lady ready to marry and give him many children, before he is tarnished by his proximity to you.

izuku only laughs that laugh of his, and his eyes are all too soft and all too affectionate for an unmarried man to be giving you.

“forgive me for my forwardness,” he says, leaning towards you as if to share a great secret, “but if it is by you, then i shall welcome my tarnishment.”

and he tugs you along.

[jacks347]

(Is this stupid enough to be considered a crack fic?? Idk, we're going with it)

To say Hipswitch was surprised to see a woman sitting in his base next to Albus would be an overstatement.

Now, to say he was surprised to see said woman be so...dressed while sipping a cup of tea, that was accurate.

He'd never seen the demon bring back anyone who wore so many layers. Hell, now that he was really thinking about it, he hadn't really seen Albus bring back anyone at all. From the headscarf covering her hair to the skirt that brushed at her ankles and all the fabric and layerage of jewelry in-between, Hipswitch was getting warm just watching her.

The woman turned, smiling politely at him. She was rather pretty, warm brown skin with dark green eyes. Not necessarily someone he'd consider Albus’s type but everyone had their exceptions. "Hello there. You must be Hipswitch." Her voice was quiet and flowed like honey. She reminded Hipswitch of the ladies of the church in town, always speaking softly with inviting smiles. Definitely not Albus’s usual type. What, had he really gotten that bored?

"That I am. And who might you be?" Hipswitch took a seat across from the odd duo, eyes darting between the two in bewilderment. Albus huffed out a laugh, wrapping an arm around the woman's shoulders. "This is Faith. She a, ah, friend of mine." The woman, Faith, rolled her eyes with a small chuckle. "Mm, sure, friend. Let's go with that." She hummed as she took a sip of her tea.

Hipswitch nodded slowly, still going back and forth between them. It was very strange but he couldn't say he didn't appreciate the change. Hell, he welcomed it. Faith was polite, she was far more dressed than he expected, and she seemed very sweet. It almost brought a tear to Hipswitch's eye. "Well it's very nice to meet you. I've gotta say Albus, she's certainly a might better for you than the others from the whore house."

There was an audible beat of silence before it was broken by both a roar of laughter from Albus and a rather impressive spit take from Faith who was now coughing like mad as she tried to regain her composure while Albus was nearly doubled over in hysterics. Hipswitch was left rather confused, not exactly understanding why what he said had caused such a visceral reaction. "Did I say something wrong?"

The statement only made Albus laugh harder as Faith finally recovered, her cheeks flaming red and her face a heavy mask of embarrassment before kicking Albus in the shin. "Stop laughing! I've never been so mortified in all my life." She dropped her face into her hands, shaking her head before pulling herself back up. "How do I put this lightly..." Faith mumbled as Albus’s laughter finally petered off. "Oh Switchy, Faith is a sister paladin." He corrected, making Hipswitch raise an eyebrow in confusion. "A what?"

"A nun." Came a surprised voice, making Hipswitch jump as he turned to find the source of it. "Hey Doc, how long have you been standing there? Almost gave me a heart attack. And how do you know that?" The doctor leaned against the doorframe, staring at Hipswitch with a wide-eyed expression between shock and horror. "When Albus came on I decided to do some research on the medical practices of New Tennessee. Maybe there would be something there to help better treat Albus if I needed to. And well, most of the information was from or about the sister paladins. They're the main form of healthcare, they're essentially priestesses who learn medicine to take of the knight paladins. But they're known to treat anyone who comes to their temples." The realization slowly dawned on Hipswitch, his eyes widening as it did. No wonder she reminded him so much of the women of the church, she was one of them! Oh he fucked up. He fucked up bad.

"So, in case you missed it in that grand fucking speech, you just called a nun a hooker directly to her face." Albus clarified, though he really didn't need to. Faith sighed, the initial embarrassment fading into a kind of indignant rage. "Can I slap him?" Albus snorted a laugh, flashing a sly grin at Hipswitch. "Oo, watch out there Switchy. She's got a mean backhand and I'm almost willing to let her do it. You kind of deserve it." Hipswitch wished he could disappear. "I-I am so sorry ma'am! I would never think of implying you would be that kind of woman, I just assumed-" He spluttered an embarrassed apology, making Albus burst into another round of hysterical laughter as Faith cut him off with a shake of her head. "Don't apologize, I know you didn't mean it. You worked with what you knew, I can't blame you for that. Though I do still want to slap you. And you do kind of deserve it."

Faith got to her feet stiffly, fixing the layers of her outfit and narrowing her eyes at a still laughing Albus. "I think I've seen enough of Maya for one day. I've got to pick Kerano up from school." She leaned down to poke a finger into the warrior's chest. "Don't make me come back out here to check up on you. Had me worried sick for nothing." Albus’s laughter faded as he lightly smacked her hand away. "Gods, yes, I know. I won't, I promise." She nodded with a satisfied huff before turning to the doctor. "I'm glad I could help with your research, you know how to reach me if you have any more questions." "Of course! Thank you again, Sister. It's been very insightful having you here. I should go continue to look over those notes." He turned and headed back into his office as Faith turned to Hipswitch. "And you." Hipswitch gulped, expecting the worst. Maybe that slap Albus had warned him about. "Maybe actually talk to someone before assuming they're some kind of common hooker. I take my faith very seriously and even if I didn't, I'd be far outside of his price range." She smiled warmly before turning on her heel and heading for the door. "See you again boys!"

Albus’s head dropped back onto the couch with a snort. "Outside my price range, she's crazy." He muttered. Hipswitch quietly got up and moved closer to punch Albus in the chest, making the demon wheeze out a breath as his head snapped up to glare at him. "Fucking hell, what was that for?" "For not warning me! I made a damn fool of myself in front of a nun because of you!" "Well, she's not really a nun, she's a priestess." "Regardless! She's a woman of faith and I disrespected her in the worst way possible!" Albus waved his concerns off. "Ah don't sweat it. Give it a week, she'll be laughing over it. It was damn funny." "You're actually the worst, you know that?" "Oh I am well aware Switchy. You're not the first to notice." Hipswitch could only roll his eyes. Why did he have to care about this idiot so much? "Okay but tell me one thing." "Whatcha got Switchy?" "Have you actually slept with her?" "Would you be jealous if I said yes?" "Albus..." Albus chuckled lowly, shaking his head. "Sorry Switchy, this is one time I don't kiss and tell. That's up to you to figure out." He confessed with a shrug. "Out of all the escapades you've rambled on about, this is the one you keep quiet about?" "Faith is different, okay? She...she deserves to not have her story told. So I won't." He defended. Hipswitch sighed in defeat, stepping back. "I'll never understand how your head works." "Good, I don't either. So looks like we'll both be confused."

(...idfk how to end this so this is what you get. Yes I made this entire thing because there is a non-zero chance that Hipswitch would assume Faith is a hooker the first time he met her and that was so damn funny to me)

[arabellasleopardcoat]

The Hermit (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: There is a blonde kinslayer in your bathroom. He appears to be your soulmate. It's worrying.

Warnings: It's Aemond. Sexual thoughts, mature language, canon character death. Yes! I killed Luke again.

A/N: Halloween celebration. Part 1 here.

There is something to be said about women with shrill voices. Perhaps, if Aegon were here, he would know the perfect jest to make. Not Aemond, though. Aemond only manages to groan and rest his forehead against the cool and humid surface underneath him.

“Who the hell are you?” The woman shrieks. Aemond is not sure exactly where he is, or how he got here, but it doesn't mean he will tolerate disrespect. He turns on his side and starts to get up. His head pounds more than it does on his bad days, when the migraines will start like icicles stabbing at his eye.

The woman is scantily clad, body wrapped in a towel that leaves little to the imagination. With how little modesty she displays, and those terrible manners, she can be nothing but a commoner.

Aemond tries hard to not stare. He is not like Aegon, panting like a dog after a pretty maid. All the thoughts of your beauty must be put aside, no matter how arousing the sight of your naked, soft body is to him.

“How dare you, peasant.” Aemond says, getting into a crouching position before standing. The floor feels slippery under his boots, which reminds him of Cole's teachings. A good swordsman must always be aware of his surroundings. Notice the ground under his feet, the enemies around and the allies near.

He is not sure what you are, enemy or ally. By the smell and looks of it, he seems to be in a bathing room. Your features are half drowned in darkness, the candlelight illuminating just the barest hint of scared eyes and a quirky mouth. You don't look like an enemy, but nor do you look familiar.

“I am Prince Aemond Targaryen.” You blink at him. Then, you blink some more. You offer your name in response, still a bit dazed. It's not one he recognizes, but at least, your shrieking has stopped.

“There was something in the bath.” You say, voice shaky. You do not seem to acknowledge his rank, which starts to irk him a bit. “I was drugged, and now I am hallucinating.”

Ah. Well, that's a bit more like it. If you say it figuratively, of course. If you are so impressed by him you think you are hallucinating, Aemond can forgive for it. He had heard tales of how much Targaryens impressed the common folk. It was not your fault that you were so impressed by royalty.

You step around him and grab your clothes. Aemond cannot help but admire the smooth expanse of your back, and how gracefully your shoulders flex and move when you pull a shirt over your head. It's an odd garment, probably made of linen, but in a loud color.

That thought makes him wonder if you are truly a peasant. Dye is expensive, and especially in the amounts needed to achieve such a garish color.

“That's not very proper.” He comments, as he watches the towel drop from your body. The faith of the Seven prohibits men and women watching each other in such a manner. But Aemond is unable to avert his eyes from the sight of you changing. The low light contributes to preserving your modesty and making him feel less guilty about looking at you in such a manner. His breath hitches at each new piece of you unveiled, from the soft curve of your breast, to the way your stomach moves when you bend.

“You sound so real.” You marvel, turning back to face him. You have managed to put on the shirt, which barely covers your thighs. Aemond wonders whose garment it is. A lover's, perhaps? Or a husband's? The thought angers him like no other, hands fisting by his side. The idea of another man having you does not sit right with him.

“I am real.” He is a tad offended. If this is someone's hallucination, it is his. Aemond cannot fathom a reason why he would be here, in such a strange bathing room and with an unknown woman. The idea of this being a dream has some merit.

One second he had been fuming in his room after making a particularly nasty toast to his nephews, the next he had appeared here. He must have fallen asleep over his desk. It would not be the first time.

“No, you are not. You are a figment of my imagination.” You reply, almost echoing his thoughts. Aemond fails at fully suppressing his amusement, the corners of his lips barely twitching upwards.

“Am I? I would think, if life was no more than a fantasy, it would not be one of someone as unimportant as you.” The concept is one he is familiar with. His long studies of philosophy have made him realize there is much he doesn't know about the world. The topic of differentiating reality from fantasy and the lack of a free will was one he was well acquainted with.

After the loss of his eye, Aemond had found little solace in the Faith, despite fulfilling his duties as a devout Prince. He often wondered if fate existed, and if that moment had been planted by the Gods to allow him to serve a purpose he had not yet discovered. There could be free will, everyone writing their destinies. Perhaps, nothing existed at all.

He didn't like pondering on that too much, though. It would make existence meaningless.

“Rude.” You mutter, hands going to your hips and making the horrible shirt you are wearing tense delightfully around your figure. “So the figment of my imagination has read Calderón de la Barca.”

Aemond blushes slightly. He has not read Calderón de la Barca. He prides himself on being well-read, but this particular author he had never heard of. It's interesting, though. If you know of an author Aemond doesn't know, it means that not only do you know how to read but that you are also highly educated.

Why? He wonders. What is so special about you, and your little peasant ways, to merit being more educated than a Prince?

“I do not know what Calderón de la Barca is, peasant.” He explains, feeling a tad embarrassed over the whole affair. Studying is his thing, after all. Aemond takes pride in excelling at all sorts of princely traits, and being well-read is one of the most important of them all. “But I am an avid reader.”

“My name is not peasant.” You give him an angry little huff, and step outside the bathing room. Aemond follows you. He figures, if he is in a strange place, it might be best to stick near. This feels too real to be a dream.

“I never said it was.” It comes out stunned. He can't help it, too busy staring at his surroundings. Now out of the bathing room, Aemond realizes this place must be your chambers. There is a love seat, some padded chairs, and even a small dining area. Odd appliances clutter the entire place, like a strange gray box that almost looks like an upright coffin and a black and sleek rectangle over a table. He is either dreaming, or in a foreign place.

He sticks very closely to you. You walk towards the door, grabbing some strange keys from a tray. They look much smaller and shiny than what Aemond is used to.

“Should I drive?” You muse aloud. The question is clearly not meant for him, since he has no clue what you mean. “No, best not. I need help. I doubt that's safe.” You put the keys down and yet again, open another door.

Aemond is starting to marvel at the sheer amount of space your chambers have. This is rather uncommon for a peasant. That, combined with your education, must mean you are something more. A courtesan, perhaps? One of the expensive ones, like in the Free Cities. Not something so crass as the dancer his Uncle had kept, though.

You step outside, Aemond still following. At that, you scowl.

“Of course he follows, he is a hallucination.” You mutter, and Aemond cannot help but laugh a little. It seems you have yet to let go of that particular theory. The two of you step into a hallway of some sort, where numbered doors stand. You knock on one of them, still in your flimsy clothing. Now that he realizes you are about to see someone else, he has the strange impulse of covering you up.

“Here.” Aemond says, taking off his outer layer and wrapping it around your shoulders. “You are too undressed.”

Another woman, much older and dressed in even stranger clothing, opens the door.

“Oh, dear. Have you locked yourself out again?” She says, before you even get a chance to speak. She ducks back inside her chambers and appears again with a key and a handful of brightly colored papers.

“No, I… I think…” You start saying, but the woman ignores you and turns towards him. She clearly senses his importance or recognizes him.

“Here.” The woman says, thrusting the bright papers that seem to have something tiny inside, in Aemond's hands. Some sort of tribute? Aemond has seen how the commoners shower Helaena and his mother in flowers when they get the chance to see them. “These were meant for the children, earlier, but your costume is very nice. You are dressed as the guy from that series, aren't you? My granddaughter is all over him.”

Aemond gapes. He is not sure if he has ever heard a sentence as nonsensical as that, and he speaks with Helaena daily.

“You can see him?” You ask, sounding alarmed. You step backwards, nearly colliding with him. Aemond takes the chance to grab you by the waist. He is starting to get the feeling something is very wrong. Costume? Series? What in the Seven Hells is going on?

One thing is clear. He is not letting you leave him alone now.

“Of course I can.” The older woman says, turning towards you with a worried frown. “Are you alright?”

Your face crumbles. Aemond squeezes your waist. He hopes you get the unspoken signal.

“She is.” Aemond quickly says. He has never been good at lying, dammit. “She is going as that… “

“Oh, the one in the movie.” The woman says. Aemond is not sure about what a movie is, but it seems to make sense to her, even if she is embarrassed by it. Perhaps, she doesn't know what movie he is referring to, and frankly, neither does he, but does not want to embarrass you.

Aemond lets the woman open your chambers' door with her key, keeping you in place with a tight grip. You squeak a bit, but otherwise remain quiet, too shocked by your realization. It helps that his arm on your waist squeezes harder each time you are about to spout some more nonsense.

“Am I dreaming?” You ask him, when he gently leads you back inside. You are shivering a bit, either from the shock or the cold. Aemond looks at you, barelegged and barefooted, and frowns.

“I understand your occupation must have ridden you of your modesty, but it does not make you immune from the cold.” He says, in a disapproving tone.

“My occupation?” You echo. Your eyes narrow. Aemond coughs, awkwardly.

“You know.” Suddenly, the artwork displayed on your walls is very intriguing. It's a very well achieved rendition of the countryside. He wonders who painted it. They must be talented.

“I do not know.” Your voice is firm. Aemond wishes you didn't make him say it. “This is bizarre enough as it is. Tell me.”

“That's not a way of speaking to a Prince.” He barks because he might find you fascinating, but you are getting ahead of yourself. Aemond is not about to tolerate being disrespected, not even from a pretty face. “A courtesan such as yourself should know better.”

You make a wheezing sound, as if you are being strangled. It's rather attractive.

“I am no courtesan!”

“To me, you look like one. These chambers are filled with rare artifacts and instruments.” Aemond walks towards the strange love seat you own and sits on it. The seat is much more plush than what he is used to, but to his disappointment, not made of real leather.

“So?” You arch an eyebrow and go sit in one of your chairs. His cloak parts slightly as you draw your knees up, allowing him to see the bare skin your shirt does little to conceal.

You level him with a strange look. Your head is tilted to the side, as if curious, but your eyes seem wary yet.

“You are pretty and lack modesty.” Aemond watches right back. It's evident many powerful men would offer just anything to have a night with you. Ever since that incident when he was thirteen, he has avoided whores. Courtesans, though, are something he could be interested in. Taught in the arts of conversation, they served as companions as much as bed warmers. It would not be strange if he were to become your patron. “And are oddly cultured.”

“Because this is not Westeros.” You yawn. Your eyes are exhausted. Aemond is not sure of the hour, but he finds commendable the fact that your chambers are so well lit, without a fireplace in sight. The thought distracts him from the fact that you are not a courtesan, and he will be unable to have you as he had hoped for.

“I had supposed I was far from home. But that far?” He asks you.

“That far.” You smile at him. It does not reach your eyes, expression troubled. “So we both abandoned the theory of this being a dream.”

Aemond hums, thoughtfully. Then, another thought occurs to him.

“There were many candles in your bathing room, and it smelled like herbs. Are you a witch?” A witch could also be hired. Useful, too.

“No. But I knew one.” Your smile turns a little strained. Aemond frowns. No witch, no courtesan, then what? Just peasant? You look too unique to be part of the common folk. Not to say, too healthy and clean.

A witch. You had hired a witch, and a good one, considering Aemond was here. That was not commoner's behavior. They were too fearful of the Faith of the Seven to do so. Besides, it was expensive.

“And this witch of yours, she brought me here? For what purpose?”

“She is not my witch.” You answer, before hesitating. Your lips move, but it takes a while before you make any sort of sound. “And the ritual, it was not to bring you. It went wrong.”

“Wrong?” He tries prompting you, but you only scowl at him. “Answer me. Answer your Prince.”

“You are not my Prince.” You say, resentfully. Aemond had not thought he would like his women a little defiant, but he is quickly figuring that a little fire can be nice. He wonders if you are that assertive in bed, too, and cannot help but smirk. That must be why his uncle loves mouthiness. “It was supposed to bring love into my life.”

“That's interesting.” That makes Aemond peer up. He looks you over, with new interest. While a bit too immodest for his liking, you are pretty and educated. You would make a good wife, once he taught you proper behavior. Your lack of good breeding, though, that was an issue. “You are bright. And gorgeous, too.”

“Thank you?” You ask him. Aemond beckons you over with a gesture, curious to see if you obey.

You get up from your seat and walk towards him. You stand in front of him, hands twitching and rumpling the fabric of his cloak. Nervous, Aemond thinks, and smiles a little. You are a twitchy thing. It makes him feel better about his nerves when faced with such a pretty woman.

“Do you think, perhaps, your witch mended the bridge between us?” Boldly, his hand goes to your waist once again. You do not fight his grip. Instead, you lean into it. Aemond brushes his thumb softly near your ribs, making you shiver.

He understands now why Aegon likes women so much. Your body is soft, and you go pliant in the most delicious way. You don't feel threatening, either, like the whores at that godawful brothel. Aemond is clearly the one in control, and he delights in it.

“Bridge?” You say, swaying a little. It might be the exhaustion he detected in you earlier, or you might be made weak by his touch. Aemond finds it interesting regardless.

“The distance. If you are meant for me…” He doesn't finish the thought, but he caresses your waist again, this time moving possessively to your hip. You are so soft, wearing his cloak and smelling of him. So vulnerable and small, despite how smart you are. How could you not be meant for him?

“Dubious.” You frown, and Aemond does not like that answer, so he jerks you slightly forward. You stumble into him, between his spread legs. “Hey!”

Aemond ignores your protest, pulling you in until he has you nearly on his lap. You struggle, but quickly fold, letting him do as he pleases. He wonders if you would let him pull you until you are sitting on his thigh, but does not dare try.

“This is not normal, in my world.” It's far-fetched, even in a world with dragons. Aemond knows magic exists, but he has never seen such a powerful display. A spell so powerful to bring him to another world, just using herbs and candles? It sounds unbelievable. He has always been a rational man, a calculating one. But there is something in his gut telling him that you speak truth.

“I realize.” You place a hand on his shoulder, steadying yourself. This time, he does pull you to sit on his lap. If Aemond were not paying so much attention to your face, he would miss it. This close, though, he notices how your eyes flutter closed in delight at the touch. It only lasts a brief moment, but Aemond can tell how much you like it.

He wonders if you are like him. Lonely and unused to touching another for the sheer pleasure of it all. He feels strange. Never before has Aemond felt such a strong urge to touch a woman, much less one he barely knows. Yet, there is something about you that makes him feel like throwing rationality out of the window.

The smell of your hair is intoxicating. He can't help himself, he has to take a deep breath of it. Gods, you smell good enough to eat.

“Do you think we were destined to meet?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Aemond knows he has ruined it. Your body tenses up, and you nearly fall off his lap. He wraps his arm around your waist, but you jerk away.

“I have to show you something.” You say, getting up. Whatever it is, it makes you uncomfortable. It's all over the tense line of your shoulders, the furrow of your eyebrows.

You take a small artifact from one of your many tables. It's a slim rectangle that lights up when you touch it. Your thumbs press it at an alarming speed. Noise starts pouring out of it, voices and music.

“… AT JUST 9 DOLLARS AND 99 CENTS…”

Aemond scrambles back on your love seat, scared by the sudden onslaught on his senses. You do not seem worried, though, merely making an annoyed face.

“Here.” You say, as you do something with your artifact and turn it to face him. It displays a storm. Aemond pays close attention to it, fascinated by the fact you seem to own a pocket sized window.

Then, he sees something he recognizes. It's Vhagar's body, she is flying somewhere. His eyes leave the artifact to meet yours in disbelief. You purse your lips and gesture for him to keep looking. Your face is oddly anxious, and your hands keep squeezing his cloak.

Aemond focus back on the device. He sees himself, chasing his nephew. He sees Vhagar opening her mouth and… Aemond throws your artifact against the wall, getting up in a hurry. He is filled with rage, stalking towards you.

You move back, as if sensing the danger in the room. Aemond grasps you by the arm, his grip so punishing your skin goes white under it.

“What sorcery is this?” He snarls, towering over you. You look at him, all big innocent eyes, and it only angers him more. “Huh? What is this, you wench?” Aemond throws you to the love seat, making you fall into it with a yelp.

“It's… I…” You hesitate.

“Answer my question!” He barks at you, making you flinch. You hug your knees to your chest, making yourself smaller. He regrets handling you so roughly immediately, and tries to smooth you over, running his hands over your arms. You slap his hands away.

“Your future.” You finally speak, face dropping into a sad frown. Your voice is barely a whisper. “It's your future.”

Upon hearing it, Aemond feels like he is losing his mind. He has always known his anger is destructive, but had never truly grasped the bounds of it. His mouth hangs open.

Turning into a kinslayer is turning into the most accursed man in Westeros. Killing his own blood is a crime that not even the most dishonorable common criminal would dare to attempt. It is something only the truly wretched are capable of.

For someone so smart, Aemond can surely be foolish. How could he let himself be blinded by his anger so? His hate for Lucerys might be strong, but he can't believe he had lost control of Vhagar in such a manner.

By the Seven. What would it mean, for his family, if he did this? War, surely. His mother would never hand him over to the justice Rhaenyra would surely demand, and that refusal would cost them their lives. That, in turn, would cause a war.

A war. Hm. Was it really that wrong, though? There would be a war anyway, once his father passed. There was no way that Rhaenyra was going to take the throne without a fight. Aegon was a much better option to rule the Seven Kingdoms, if only by the fact he was a man.

Women were not made to rule. Just look at you. No matter how smart and educated, you had been reduced to a frightened, quivering little thing after getting screamed at. What prevented from the same being done to Rhaenyra? His uncle had an even worse temper than him, he probably decimated his wife daily. It would be him who truly ruled. And no matter how skilled a swordsman, Daemon was not fit to be King.

“I killed him?” Aemond asks you, eerily calm. His tone is even. It feels as if the words are coming from someone's else mouth.

You shrink more into your seat.

“You did.” You say, quiet as a mouse.

Aemond could not help but feel the smallest satisfaction over it. Lucerys had it coming. He had ruined Aemond's life, after all. And not only had he taken his eye, but he was also a bastard. Bastards were put to the sword, everyone knew that. Aemond had just accelerated the inevitable.

It had been a matter of time. Truly. His lips curl into a smirk.

“Good.” He answers, with a viciousness that surprises even him. “Good.”

“I do not think…” You start saying, in a brave attempt for such an easily frightened little thing. Aemond brushes your hair back from your face. Your next words die in your throat.

You tremble. Poor thing that you were, all tangled up in morality. You surely read too much philosophy books, it got you all confused. It didn't matter. All theories crumbled after their first brush with reality. You would learn.

“You will learn.” Aemond sits down next to you, pulling you for a hug. “You are mine, after all.”

You struggle. He squeezes you slightly harder, and you go limp.

“You are my woman now.” Aemond explains, patiently. He is willing to teach you when the two of you go back to Red Keep. But not before he gets as much useful information as he can extract out of your pretty little head. “And you need to be good to me.”

He kisses your temple. You look up at him, eyes all shy. Aemond leans down and kisses you. You are terribly pale, lips barely moving against his.

“You are never letting me go.” You say, as if in a daze. Aemond smirks. It is a show of your intellect, that you realize all on your own that you have doomed yourself.

“Of course not, wife. You are all I need.”

[mins-fins]

missa solemnis

&&. it's not everyday that you waltz with the prince that wants to rip out your tongue, but life is just full of surprises.

pairing: lee donghyuck x m!reader

genre: fairly random really, royalty au, enemies(?) to lovers

warnings: explicit language, reader and hyuck threaten each other the whole time, reader and hyuck both suck so bad but they both want each other so bad

word count: 1k

notes: this whole thing is just one scene from a bigger thing i wrote during the christmas break that i scrapped because i didn't think people would read it.. also because i'm not very good when it comes to writing people as enemies, also it was HORRIBLE i almost throw up every time i even glance at that mess 😞 anyway to celebrate nct dream reincarnation royal au i decided to just take this chunk and edit it so now at least it makes a little more sense 😭?? not my best writing truly but prince hyuck has not left my mind, i need to start writing more royal aus

"if i didn't know better, i'd think you wanted to kiss me right now".

there's a taunting tone in your voice that makes donghyuck glare, but he still doesn't get distracted, keeping up the same momentum he's had since you two began dancing no more than a few minutes ago.

there's a few good reasons you assumed he wanted to kiss you, mainly the direct contact he was making with your lips, he looked like he was about to move forward and connect his lips with yours with absolutely no shame, no regard for his reputation, his soon-to-be-wife, or his supposed "hatred" of you.

"you are an absolute moron".

"aren't i correct?"

donghyuck's poker face doesn't falter, no matter how much you tried to get a smile out of him with idiotic comments or jokes. "nope, wrong as always".

you hum at the princes response, somehow able to stay focused on waltzing as the two of you made your way around in a circle. donghyuck will never understand your way of easily multitasking, how you were somehow able to focus on annoying the absolute shit out of him as well as focus on not stepping on his foot at all.

he has to give it to you (begrudgingly though), it's impressive.

"so what is it then, your highness? you were just staring at my lips because you were bored? lost in your head?"

donghyuck's grip on your hand tightens at the sound of you using his title in such a mocking manner, oh he hates you, he hates you so much that if he had to choose, he'd rather kill you himself then have someone else do it.

you piss him off so much, your words piss him off so much, he wants to punch you, he wants to set you on fire and watch you burn, he wants to so badly stomp you into the ground and watch you suffer—

but holy shit you are absolutely gorgeous.

donghyuck can't even deny it, even with how much denial courses through his veins about topics such as this, anyone with two functioning eyes could see that you are just such a work of art. donghyuck can't even blame all the women that flock to the gates of your palace, hoping to score just one date with you.

"i was too busy thinking about the several torture methods that i could put you through".

"ah i am so hurt, you don't love me sweetheart?"

donghyuck has to use every single bit of patience remaining in his body to not step on your foot and leave you in pain on the dance floor.

the only reason he was dancing with you in the first place was because of a promise he made to his mother, his fiancée was off doing something else, gossiping with the servants, he assumes, she did always enjoy that, a favorite activity of hers that he's learned about from observing.

a dance like this should truly only be preserved for lovers, people who can stand each other, a pair who, with all things considered, won't bicker whilst they were supposed to be focusing on the music.

you two, with all things considered, are an example of everything opposite of that, you can't stand each other, you bicker all the time, and you are truly the furthest thing from lovers.

"call me that again and next time your head won't be attached to your body".

"i like to think you threaten me because you love me".

donghyuck snorts, finally, and you felt a surge of pride in your chest, you'd gotten a smile out of him. "your mind must be the messiest place ever.." he resorts to muttering, not knowing what other specific threats he could tell you. "an idiotic one too, do you ever think clearly? logically?"

you hum, displaying a lack of offense at the words. instead, you just lean closer, the distance between you two minimizing. "i only think about you, sweetheart".

a scoff leaves the prince's lips, he's absolutely done with you, but there's still a good minute left to the song, meaning there's still a good minute of you two waltzing in this ballroom left.

"i just cannot wait for this to be over.."

"you don't say!"

your enthusiasm pisses off donghyuck, but he doesn't step on your foot like he wanted, instead pulling you forward harshly, causing for a yelp of surprise to escape your lips. his arm remains around your waist, ensuring that you won't fall, but you two do bump foreheads.

"jesus! are you crazy!?"

there is absolutely no reason for you two to be pressed this close, your fingers still very much intertwined, just one trip up and your lips would touch.

you wonder in your head if donghyuck is slowly regretting his brash decision.

"what? you don't know how to waltz anymore?"

you always find a way to jab at him, comment on something he did, joke about a little things that you knew got under his skin.

oh lee donghyuck absolutely despises you.

that doesn't explain why he still clearly wants to kiss you, though.

"you're just—" he pauses in the middle of his sentence, suddenly very interested in your facial features, features that he could now clearly see up close. "a moron, an idiot".

"as you've said before".

donghyuck doesn't respond anymore after that, the song isn't even done, a good 25 seconds left before it's ending, but donghyuck was clearly done, as he pushed you away, taking in a breath.

"that's enough of you, have a good night your highness".

the words leave his tongue bitterly, his glare is less of a genuine one and more full of mixed emotions, but he doesn't give you any more time to stare at him, just turns around and walks in the direction of his fiancée.

you watch him walk away, and he doesn't make an effort to even save you one final glance.

the song isn't even over yet.

but he's done, very done.

[ikanasocking]

A supportive friend

I guess this is the most erotic story I have written so far. It contains inanimated tf, gay activities and to some degree mind control. If you are not interested in these topics you should maybe not continue reading it. Enjoy this new story.

Ron and Chris were friends for as long as they could remember. Doing mischief nearly every day. In school after school whenever they were together. But sadly it was not made to last. It seemed like Chris was developing feelings toward men, more then to women. So when he had his coming out, Ron was furious. He wanted nothing to do with a gay bitch, and broke every contact to Chris.

Chris was not taking it very well. And who would? Your best friend you trusted all your life rejected you, because you were into people of the same sex. Ridiculous. But this was all a thing of the past. Many years both guys did not hear anything from each other. And truth be spoken, they did not even want to. Chris passed collage with ease and found a rather lucrative job as a manager in a company. His superior was also the son of the CEO and gay as well. Both guys were like made for one another. But they kept it secret. Chris did not want to make the impression that he just got his job, because the gay CEO’s son liked him. And for his new boyfriend Kai it was okay to keep a low profile. Work was work, and after that, they could do what they wanted.  More years went by. Kai and Chris made it official at one point. At least to Kai’s dad. Chris was welcomed into the family like their own son. And so they moved into their own flat.

At work it was no problem at all. People were happy to work for the both of them. They were a good team supporting each other, whenever they could. One day, Kai told his friend that they would get a new worker. He would start tomorrow and be in Chris team. Curios Chris wanted to greet his new employee the next day. Only to find Ron standing in front of him. A totally new Ron. He let himself go. He got fat. So fat that Chris would never have believed.  They stood in front of each other just staring.

“Ah I see you met each other already. Chris, this is Ron your new assistant.”

“Hello”, Chris said and hurried into his office.

A lot of feelings were coming back to him and he could barely hold back his tears. Seeing his once best friend now here working for him as an assistant.

“I am sorry, I don’t know what got into him. Anyway, Nora will show you the building and give you insight into your future work. I am sure we will see each other later”, Chris heard his boyfriend say.

Not long after he got into Chris office and looked at him.

“I wanted to ask what was wrong with you, but I guess I can save this question, honey. Who is this guy?”

He asked and went over to him to comfort him.

“My childhood friend who broke every contact when I had my coming out.”

Kai took Chris into a comforting hug, while he let his feelings all out. Tears were running down his face. Kai did not know about all of this but guessed that Chris must have been hurt very bad, back in the day. When he calmed down, Kai released him.

“Everything okay?”

“Somehow”, Chris sad still shaken by the moment.

“Okay, why don’t you go home and get some rest. I will handle the rest here, for the day. Sounds like a deal?”

“No I can’t go now. I have some”, Chris began.

“No you have not. You go home now, get comfy and wait for me. I will bring dinner today. Nothing is more important to me, then you being happy and able to work. I will take care of the introduction of Ron and the presentation we prepared. Leave everything up to me, please.”

Under another protest Chris gave up and went home in a hurry. Leaving Ron and his boyfriend alone. He trusted Kai but not Ron. Nevertheless he got home changed clothes, got on the couch into a comfy blanket and started watching some shows.

Kai on the other hand took care of everything. First on the agenda was talking to his father about what happened. Then the presentation for the stakeholders of the company. And then he met back with Ron.

“So, Ron was it, right? I hope Nora showed you everything?”

“Yeah she was quite the darling. But I got a question.”

“Sure ask right away.”

“For whom will I be the assistant?”

“Oh I guess you met him earlier today. From what I know an old friend of yours”, Kai said with a big smile.

He wanted to be as polite as possible and not show that deep within he was furious this guy had the nerve hurting his boyfriend.

“For Chris? Oh I thought I would work for a real manager”, he said and Kai laughed.

He ordered Ron to follow him.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean someone like Chris cannot be a real manager. He is not even a real man.”

“That is an interesting view on things. Mind telling me why you think so? I mean if what you say is true, then I might have a new job offer open.”

“Gladly. He is straight as a circle. Only hunting to be dominated by another man. Maybe someone like me, a real man” Ron said with a proud tone in his voice.

Kai looked at him. Did you recently looked into the mirror? A real man would not say things like this. You might be a bear and even a daddy bear, but not a real man, was all he could think.

“Oh really? I did not know that he is gay. But loving men is not an indication for him not doing his job right.”

“Sure you will see it in short time. He will disappoint you. Me on the other hand will be the perfect guy for this position. I am everything he is not.”

That’s for certain, Kai thought and laughed.

“Well since you seem to have such a high opinion of your skills. I am sure you will not disappoint me. Do your best and show me you can do his job better then he can, and we might think about a promotion. Sounds like a deal?”

“I cannot lose anything, so sure. Deal.”

“Excellent. Since I send Chris home, get to know the office and your working place. If you got any questions just ask Nora or me. Have a nice day.”

With that Kai turned and went to his office. After the door was closed he had to take a lot of deep breaths to calm down. The nerve Ron had talking to him like that was infuriating the least. He never thought an attitude like this would even exist in this times. Slowly he went to his desk before someone knocked on his door.

“Yes?” he responded only to see his dad coming into his office.

“Everything all right?” he asked while Kai took a seat.

“I guess we will pull through it.”

“The new guy?” his dad asked and took a seat for himself.

Kai’s father was sprouting the perfect dad body, if this even existed. He kept his facial hair trimmed and short. A mother was not in their family anymore, as far as Kai knew. His father loved him more than anything but it turned out he was gay himself and got himself a husband, after his wife left him. At least this was, what Kai was told.

“Yeah.”

“Is he the reason my soon to be son in law was not able to do his presentation?”

“Kind of. They met and Chris was shaken to the bone. I send him home and took over. He was in no constitution to hold it.”

“I see. So who is the guy?

“A homophobe asshole”, Kai summed up.

“Oh really?”

“I guess he did not know about Chris and me and the only thing he told me in our conversation was how Chris would not be able to fill his role and he would be the much better pick. I must say, I am beyond mad at the things he told me.”

Kai’s dad nodded and got up then. He went to the door and opened it.

“Come in honey”, he said and Kai’s stepfather came in.

A lean guy with some girly attitudes. He was one of those guys you would look at and say, yes he loves men. The door was closed and both men came back to the desk.

“Okay, Kai. I think it is time to let you in on a little family secret. Your mother and I never really parted ways. We just had to use this excuse to cover up what really happened.”

“You and mom are still married? So you have two”, began Kai but his dad shook his head.

“No I am only married once. To the same woman that brought you into this world.”

“I don’t understand.”

“See? I told you he would not understand. Kai, I am your mother your real mother.”

Kai was taken aback. Why should they say something like this?

“This is impossible”, he said.

“We thought so as well. But there is something in our family. A special gift. You could call it even power. We can change people to out will. And since your father told me he would be more interested in man, I decided to become one myself. So we were able to stay together and live our live happily. And now we want to teach you how to do this. Or better we want to teach Chris and you how to do this. You are old enough and I guess this new guy deserves some punishment. Let’s have dinner together and talk about everything then. Okay?”

“Sure”, Kai said but still did not believe his father nor his stepfather.

After both left his office Kai wrote Chris about the plans tonight and carried on with his day. Luckily he was not disturbed by Ron again.

The evening came. Kai and Chris went to his father’s house, which was not far away from the place they lived. His father’s house would have been big enough for three to four families and he even offered Kai to stay with his boyfriend here, but he refused wanted to have some time for himself. The dinner was already served when they arrived. After they finished it they got into an old office room.

“So, we already talked about it. Chris, I guess Kai told you everything?” Kai’s dad asked.

“Yeah he did, but I cannot really believe it.”

“I am sure it is hard to accept but it is the honest truth. I am inherited this gift from my mother and well passed it on to my husband and son” Kai’s stepfather said.

“How? I can understand that you passed it on to me, but how to my dad?”

“We don’t really know. I talked to my mother about it and she said that it might be that this gift is passed on by having, you know what.”

“I still can’t believe it. You can change from man to woman by pure will?” Chris asked.

“Yeah I can. But I could do much more. Just a moment.”

With that Kai’s stepfather closed his eyes and began changing. His features became more and more girly until Kai’s mother stood in front of them. The clothes stayed the same and were way to big for the slender woman.

“Mother”, Kai whispered and she smiled at him.

“See and you didn’t want to believe us”, she said and smiled.

“This is against every logic.”

“Sure it is. But it is called magic, my dear.”

With that Kai’s mother changed back into her male self.

“That is unbelievable”, Chris said.

“We know but we want you to learn this as well.”

“But how should I be able to do this? I am not from this family”, Chris said.

“True but we are sure that Kai and you already had some fun. So you should be able to do it as much as Kai should.”

Chris turned red.

“So how do we do this and can we only change ourselves?” Kai asked eagerly.

“Wow slow down, son. First of all, you can change everyone you want into everything you want. With the years we used this skill to teach a lot of homophobic assholes lessons in respect. Nora for example would normally be Norbert or my office chair. Nearly everyone in our office was recruited for a purpose. They all went to a rash teaching. And now the next one would be our new guy Ron” Kai’s dad said.

So they began to explain how the boys could use this gift. After some tries it worked. For both of them. The ultimate proof for the fun, Kai and Chris were having.

“One thing before we let you go to sleep. Make sure that no one sees you using this skills. No one who is not supposed to be changed. The changed persons are unable to speak with anyone else but you about what happened. So it is vital no one sees you doing it”, Kai’s mum told them.

“We are careful”, Kai said.

This night they did not return home but stayed at the house. In the morning all four of them went back to work. Like usual they were the first in the office. Kai and Chris went to Chris office.

“Honey, before he shows up. I want you to know that I played Ron’s game and promised him that, if he could proof me that he is more capable then you he would get your job. With no intention of giving it to him. But just so you know.”

“Don’t threat honey. I have some ideas of improving his supportive skills.”

“Wanna tell me what you are going to do?”

“I thought about turning him into a condom or a dildo. But I guess I have another idea.”

“I am curios. Can I watch?”

“Oh sure you can. I plan to do it after work. In private.”

Kai laughed and left the office. The day want on and Ron showed up in time. He did not try to hide his disgust towards his new boss and did the bare minimum. But Chris was not paying any mind to it. It would be the last day Ron would be working for him. He invited him to a company dinner at his place together with a person of Ron’s choice. He agreed wanting to show his new “friend” Kai that he was dedicated. And so the evening was coming and Ron showed up at Chris and Kai’s home. Together with a friend of his.

“No ladies escort?” Kai asked with a laugh.

“The lady had already ladies night. So I thought of bringing a friend. This is Mark.”

He greeted everyone and so they went to dinner. After they finished Kai went to get some alcohol. Ron and Mark did not turn it down and began drinking the expansive whine and whiskey they were offered.

“You know, Chris, I am sure I can do your job better then you”, Ron said after being drunk.

“Is that so? Well then follow me to the office room. Then we can discuss the business part.”

So they went to the room next door. Chris closed the doors and looked them.  He just hoped the little training he had yesterday would be enough.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Ron asked completely losing his words.

“If you want to have my job so desperately I am sure you will do everything you can to get it. So here is the deal. You blow me and you can have it. Does this sound fair?”

“Pfff sure a faggot like you would ask for only a blowjob. Get ready to surrender your job to me”, he said and staggered over to Chris.

“That is right, Ron. Come here. Get on your knees.”

He obeyed and looked into Chris eyes.

“Now then open my pants and pull them down.”

Again he obeyed. It was like Chris voice was like what his brain wanted. He was not able to set his own thoughts and Chris commands apart. They were one and the same for him.

“Get your nose into my crotch and start sniffing it”, he commanded and Ron obeyed again.

Eagerly he went on sniffing and licking Chris dick through the fabric. Chris watched for a few minutes.

“Tell you what, Ron? I guess you want this, do you? Being down there worshipping me and my meat. Does it fill you with joy?”

“Yes it does”, Ron answered completely oblivious to all the signals in his body telling him to stop.

“So why not spend every day there? How about you become the supportive friend you should have been all the years? You want to be my boxers, do you?”

Ron looked up in Chris face and pulled himself up. He got close to his bosses face and looked into his eyes with lust and oblivion.

“I want to be your boxers, Chris. Take me as a supportive friend.”

“With pleasure. Get down there and worship me”, Chris said and Ron went back down.

He began to lick Chris penis through the pants again and sniffed like it was the most beautiful smell he ever had experienced.

“Now blow me through the boxers”, he commanded and Ron did as he was told.

Chris used his hands and put them on Ron’s head. Slowly he pressed him closer to his crotch. With every push Ron seemed to sink deeper and deeper into the fabric of the boxers. First his face, then his whole head and the rest of his body followed. He was now nothing more than a boxer at Chris crotch. Suddenly sober he noticed something in his mouth. It was Chris erection that was so big. The taste was in Ron’s mouth and he wanted to spit it out. Shout at his boss what kind of sick game he would be playing here. But nothing came out. He could not even get the penis out of his mouth.

“Now you are supportive, Ron. Are you happy? This will be your live for the next years, I guess. Maybe I will change you back one day, when you have learned where your place is. But only if I not forget about you. Welcome to your new life as my boxers.”

Chris hand was stroking his dick and precum began to soak into Ron’s body. The taste was totally new for the boy but he could not escape it. The smell as well. This was his life. Chris put his pants back on and for the moment Ron’s world went dark. Happy and satisfied Chris went back to the other guys who were sitting there. Kai waited for him and smiled when he saw him coming back alone.

“So it is over with him? What about Mark?”

“I am somehow sad to do this to him, since I don’t know this guy. But he is a witness. Even though he is completely drunk. But he leaves me no choice. He can thank my boxers for his fate.”

With that Chris went over to Mark and woke him up.

“Come with me, boy” he commanded and he got up and followed him to the sofa.

Chris sat down and Kai as well.

“Now tell me, Mark. Do you like what you see?”

“I am not sure what you mean.”

Chris put his feet on the table and looked back at the guy.

“I mean my feet. Weren’t you checking them out all evening?”

“I no, I did not, did I? I mean they are somehow cute in a strange way, but I would not check them out. I am not gay”, he said.

“Well satisfying your curiosity has nothing to do with being gay. If you like my feet, why not play with them?”

Like Ron before him, he went on and began to play with Chris feet. He was so entranced that this was the only right thing to do for him. He went on and began sniffing, massaging and licking this foreign guys feet like there was no tomorrow. After a while one of his hands went down to stroke his dick which got hard. The perfect moment for Chris.

“You are enjoying it, do you? Why not experience it every day. Become my socks”, he said and Mark nodded.

He used both hands again and pressed his face as hard as he could into Chris feet. And so the magic began. He began to fuse with the socks and in the end Mark was nothing more than a pair of socks with a wet cum spot on Chris feet. Chris was satisfied and smiled like he had not in years.

“So are you happy now?” Kai asked and began fondling his boyfriend.

“Yes I am more than happy. My past is now over and I can look forward. With you, Ron and Mark.”

Kai smiled and began kissing his boyfriend.

The next morning Mark wanted to get up, but noticed he could not move. Suddenly it got bright and it was like he was lying on the ground, with a big weight on his body. He tried to talk but nothing came out. Suddenly he saw something. A boot coming close to him. This was when it hit him. He was a pair of socks. He did not dream it. It was real. The boot covered him and turned his world black. The smell was nearly unbearable. As was the constant sweat that was soaked up by his body. Even if he wanted he could not change it.

After a few weeks Ron and Mark got used to being worn every day by Chris. Mark used his time licking at Chris feet, even though he had not tongue it was still a pleasant feeling for Chris. Mark had tried to fight it as well but now he had nothing better to do then sucking his owner’s dick. Life was simpler for them this way. And for Chris and Kai as well. Not long after they got married and moved in with the rest of Kai’s family.

For now the story ends here but who knows? Maybe Mark and Ron will be released one day or get more company? Who knows?

[archiveikemen]

'His Cherished Doll' Story Event: Chapter 2

William Rex

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

William: A “fun place” that you also know.

Whenever he gave such vague responses, it meant that he wanted me to figure it out myself.

William: Now it’s your turn to get ready to head out.

Kate: But… there’s no need for me to change my clothes, right?

(Even though we’re going out together, I can’t show myself in public…)

William: Won’t you dress up just for me?

His sweet request struck my heart like cupid’s bow.

Kate: … You’re really so good at leaving my heart in shambles.

William: I’m sure you’ll still be beautiful even when you’re ruined.

Will let out a stifled laugh and held out a cute dress in front of me.

Kate: This dress is…?

William: It’s from the Queen’s Aide who has been dying to be the one to take care of you.

William: May I do your hair for you?

Kate: Yes, of course.

William: … Oh, it’s almost night time. We must hurry.

…

The “fun place” William was referring to turned out to be a modest mansion located in a quiet area.

I was familiar with the place as I had been taken there once.

I recalled Will telling me that this place was a venue for social gatherings, open to people of all social classes. It was referred to as the “Mad Tea Party”, similar to the one in Alice in Wonderland.

(... He brought me here before we started dating. I’m feeling nostalgic.)

(Fufu, I was kind of surprised when I heard that Will owned this mansion and plot of land.)

Kate: So this is the fun place you were talking about.

William: I’ve been so obsessed with you lately that I haven't visited this place in a while.

Will whispered as I looked up at him from the pocket of his coat.

William: Kate. Do you still remember the rules of this place?

Kate: There are two rules. Respect the other person’s free will, and no monetary transactions are allowed.

Kate: As long as you follow those rules, you’re free to exchange information, form friendships, have conversations… you can spend your time here as you please.

Kate: … Am I right?

William: Correct. Your memory is impressive.

(It’s not that I have a good memory. I remember everything about Will.)

Kate: That’s because… it's related to you.

William: Hmm?

William: Does that mean that you had feelings for me even before we became lovers?

Kate: T-That’s… true… but…

William: I just heard something good. My trip here tonight was worthwhile.

Kate: … Jeez, please don’t tease me.

William: That’s because your reactions are always so cute.

Will chuckled, and I heard several footsteps approaching.

(Someone’s coming. I need to hide!)

I hid myself deep inside Will’s pocket, and heard some voices at the same time.

Lively Young Man: How lucky of me to see you here tonight, Earl Rex.

William: Hey, Connor. I heard that your business has been flourishing lately. Remember to take good care of your health.

Long-Haired Lady: Earl Rex! I’ve been wanting to hear your opinions regarding women’s suffrage (the right to vote).

William: Certainly. We shall discuss it over some tea later.

Doctor with Mustache: Allow me to introduce myself as well. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Earl Rex.

William: Ah… Doctor Cedric Hamilton, is it? I heard that you’re very passionate about your research on developing new drugs.

Doctor Cedric: Goodness me! It is an honour to be remembered by someone as refined and intelligent as you are, Earl Rex.

(As always, he’s so popular…)

Approached by both men and women, Will engaged in multiple friendly conversations.

While it was obvious that a few of those people had taken an interest in him — I was the only person who knew his true identity.

(However—)

Despite my slight feeling of superiority, I couldn't help wishing that I were standing right next to him.

(Usually, I would gently intertwine our fingers, then Will would notice and pull me closer to him by the waist…)

William: Pardon me. We shall continue with our discussion after I quench my thirst with some wine.

With those words, Will managed to pull himself away from the crowd and left the room with me…

…

He gently took me out of his breast pocket at an empty stairwell.

Kate: Will? Weren’t you about to go get a drink…

William: That was what I was about to do… but there’s one thing I forgot.

(...? … He forgot something?)

William: Come here, Kate.

Will traced my cheek with his finger and pressed his signet ring against it.

Kate: Nn, nn…!?

William: I forgot to mark that you belong to me.

William: Hahaha. Now it's obvious to everyone who you belong to.

I felt my cheek, the imprint from William’s signet ring remained clearly visible.

(I’m glad… … He could tell that I was feeling lonely.)

Kate: … Will, me too.

William: You want to leave your mark on me too? Alright, anywhere you want.

Kate: Then I’ll leave it on your neck.

I pressed my lips to his neck and sucked on the skin, leaving a red mark that looked like a flower blooming.

While I was admiring it, I heard my stomach growl loudly…

Kate: Oh…

William: Fufu, shall we get something to eat and drink?

Will was about to put me back into his breast pocket, but…

Kate: I’ll wait for you here. Having me with you means that you have to move slower than usual, right?

William: Am I right to interpret that as you want me to return as quickly as possible?

Kate: W-Will…

William: Fufu, I understand. Thank you for your concern. I’ll be quick.

Will’s figure disappeared into the distance, leaving me alone in the moonlit corridor.

I touched my cheek again, the mark from his signet ring had become slightly fainter.

(How I wish it would never disappear… what am I even thinking)

And then, I heard footsteps coming from downstairs.

Kate: Welcome back, Wi—...

I stopped before finishing my sentence.

(... No. It isn’t Will…)

(Will went up the stairs… but the footsteps are coming from downstairs.)

The footsteps grew closer, and I was forcefully grabbed by an unknown man’s hand—.

[guysgoneexposed]

Daddy's Always Willing to Help

After graduating college, Taylor was thrilled to be accepted into the very exclusive: Kink Academy. As a legacy, you'd think things would have been easier, but his "Daddy" was a legend at the academy and the expectations for Taylor to impress were very high.

Things had changed a bit since his Daddy had been the big man on campus. Technology is now a huge part of the curriculum and something Taylor was very skilled at and passionate for.

This semester Taylor's special project was working on an app that integrated AI (artificial intelligence) and AR(augmented reality) to create a one of a kind kinky experience he's calling "Deep Fucked". He'd been working hard training the AI with data from the school's digital archives and vault (which had lots of material featuring "Daddy", but that's a story, several stories, for another day) and was ready for the human testing phase. It was designed for at least two users: an operator and a participant. He needed someone he could trust to try it out on.

He knows his Daddy will be proud, but would he be willing to help him test it out? Taylor asks Daddy for help, and without batting an eye, or asking any questions, Daddy agrees to do whatever it takes.

So what does Daddy have to do? To begin with, Taylor just needs to scan Daddys full body. "You need me naked?" Daddy asks. Taylor smiles and laughs a bit: "No, not yet at least, for now... You can stay dressed". Daddy laughed:" I don't understand. I thought this was kinky". Taylor just smiles and winks saying:"You'll see... If it works". Just stand nice and still. Taylor gets a full body scan... front and back... Now to see if it works: "let me try a few of the filters... Let's see if it will take your shirt off. Ah... Wow... It's so realistic... Nice undershirt Daddy". Dad looks at him: "It's working? What's it doing?". "Don't worry, trust me..." Taylor replies as he presses the remove pants button to see his Daddy without pants! Oh the power he has at his finger tips. He has to know, does the fully nude option work? "Now for the real test..." He skips some of the other options and presses the fully nude button. He gasps... Here his Daddy is fully clothed in person, but butt ass naked on his phone's screen. He gasps with awe. "Wow, Daddy... It works! I'm staring at a completely nude image of you". Daddy completely shocked instinctively covers his junk with his hands. "Um , what do you mean?" He says nervously. Why am I feeling so exposed? What do you mean naked? Taylor gives him a stern: "Don't cover that cock Daddy, I've already seen it, recorded it, so show it off. Now spin around and let me see how well it works on that juicy back side of yours". What do you mean you've seen it before? Daddy still doesn't quite understand: "But how? I'm fully clothed!". Just spin around! I've been working with the school archives. I've seen everything you got up to. I know what made you a legend among legends. This app is going to help build my own legend status, with your help! Daddy nervously chuckles as his spins around and puts his hands behind his head as instructed. Surely he didn't see EVERYTHING? Taylor scrolls through several options to see how well they look on his Dad from behind. Including the "women's lingerie" option which makes Taylor giggle a bit, but also reminds him that Daddy looks great in and OUT of everything. Taylor laughs, "You've created a kinky genius... Don't worry, now that I have your scans I'll be able to make some tweaks and make it even better. I'm showing my progress to a few of my professors(most of which were buddies of Daddy's during his time at the school) and my class, well really the entire school tomorrow. If also like to share these images of how realistically naked you look on my socials- I've been crowd sourcing some of the ideas to make this the best app it can be. I think the more eyes on the project... On you... The better! Just wait for some of the updates I have planned". I've only just begun.

[enquiringangel]

Statements like: ‘None of the Lost Boys like Star’ lack a firm basis in canon. Talking just movie canon here rather than novels, scripts, etc. which actually add a bit more nuance to the whole thing.

Star's place in the story is as Michael's comphet love interest and as window dressing, because all movies must include a hot chick(tm). She has very little agency or role in the plot other than to lure Michael into the vampires' world. The story could have easily worked without her with only a few minor changes.

But that's typical of the film industry doing lady characters the dirty. We all know this. And we all know that characters of her type are widely disliked across Fandom as a whole for a bunch of reasons, one of which is probably that those of us who identify as women became sick to death of being portrayed as objects without agency because it can hit too close to home. Let's not flog that dead horse anymore.

Back to her relationship with the boys: they don't share enough screen time for us to definitively say they feel any particular way about her. Aside from Paul briefly saying "Ah, chill out girl" when she tells them off for hazing Michael, the only one who interacts with her at all is David. And that is very limited too: after the two scenes where she gets on the back of his bike, he basically pays her no attention for the rest of the movie. Though it is implied that they have some conversations off screen (about making Michael her first kill, etc.) that we don't see .

The boys' focus moves to Michael, and on male-male bonding. (I am very straight-faced while typing this.) Star fades away into the shadows during Michael's initiation not only because she was unable to stop him from making her mistake, but because her presence is unwelcome. It would be like someone's girlfriend going along to a wild bachelor party: probably doesn't happen that often and likely to be uncomfortable as hell. It's a boys' night. She'd cramp their style.

Whatever the writers' intentions may have been, any attempt at creating a rivalry between David and Michael for Star's affection falls flat on its face because David simply does not care to play that role. He does not seem to give a damn that Michael is obviously lusting after her, and shows no signs of being bothered about them sleeping together. In my view the scene where he makes Star get on the back of his bike instead of Michael's has very little to do with Star - that triumphant smirk makes it clear he's trying to get a rise out of Michael.

From the little interaction David does have with Star, I get the impression that their relationship is one of ownership. He views her as belonging to him, but obviously he has no problem sharing her if it means he gets what he wants - Michael joining them. For her part she comes across as being a little afraid of him, which is understandable considering the boys are literally horror movie monsters who brutally murder people. (Contain yourselves you monsterfuckers, yes I know, we all love them because of, rather than in spite of this.) But the way she laughs while riding on the back of his bike, the sheer joy in her eyes, it makes me think that's not all there is to it. There is happiness in her time with them as well.

[mishasminion360]

Young Joel Miller x bakerOFC please, do whatever you want with it….

Where’s that Diego Luna dabble btw?? 👀😶‍🌫️

The Sweetest Thing

Pre-Outbreak Joel Miller x Baker fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff sweeter than buttercream frosting; one swear word; possibly a smidgen of angst at the end, if you reeeeally think about it.

Summary: All the cakes and pastries aren’t the sweetest thing you encounters in your bakery that day.

A/N: Oh, my sweet anon (and I totally know who you are 😝), thank you for this lovely request. I hope you enjoy the sweet result. P.S. Sorry about that Diego drabble. As you know, life got away from me. Way away.

Men always look so damned sheepish when the step into a bakery. It’s as if unless they have a gal on their arm with a sizable sweet tooth, there’s no good reason for them to be setting foot into such a place. Bakeries are too feminine; sugar and sweets are too girly, pastries are too dainty. Butcher shops? Now, that’s a man’s domain. Blood and guts and meat are manly things.

It’s an outdated belief you thought pop culture phenomena such as “The Great British Bake Off” would have put an end to. Boys wear pants, girls wear dresses. Men go to butchers, women go to bakers.

This guy is dismantling an age old stereotype, but sure looks nervous as hell doing it.

“‘Scuse me,” he drawls, approaching your counter with hands in his pockets. “I’m lookin’ to get a cake.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, partner.”

His brown eyes scan the assortment beneath the glass to the right of the counter. Cakes in all shapes, sizes, and designs.

“Looking for any kind of cake in particular? A certain flavor, I mean.”

“Well, what all have you got?” he asks, turning those eyes—a shade of brown as rich as chocolate ganache—on you.

“Pick your poison. I have the usual suspects—chocolate, vanilla, and marble—or some more adventurous flavors, such as lemon, raspberry, red velvet, banana, orange cream, cinnamon and spice. Et cetera, et cetera, and so on and so forth.”

He purses his lips in an impressed whistle.

“Well, I certainly hope they aren’t poisonous,” he chuckles. “But I’m not picky. What do you recommend?”

“That depends. What’s the occasion?”

“It’s, uh, a birthday,” he mumbles. “Could be the last if I fail to bring a cake home for my daughter. She’ll have my head.”

“Ah, so it’s the little lady’s special day, huh?”

“Actually, it’s mine,” he admits as a pretty pink hue fills his cheeks, as if it mortifies him to confess to turning another year older. “But the cake is mostly for my kid’s sake. I’m on a diet myself.”

“Life is much too short for diets,” you chuckle. “Now tell me, what does your girl like?”

“Well,” he shrugs. “This kid loves her peanut butter.”

“Noted. And what does her dad like?”

“Oh, I don’t….it’s like I said, about that diet and all—“

“And I said life’s too short for such a thing,” you reiterate. “Especially on birthdays. So, what does he like?”

He’s momentarily caught off guard by your abruptness, but it earns you a smile. And boy, it’s a smile you won’t forget anytime soon.

“The old man is partial to chocolate.”

“A gentleman with a taste for the classics. Nothing wrong with being a little old fashioned in the modern age.”

“Just plain old, I think you mean.”

“Not at all, but how old are we talking?”

“36.”

“Not old at all.”

He laughs at that, and you like his laugh just as much as his grin. “Tell that to my bones.”

“I think they heard me,” you say proudly. “I have a very commanding voice.”

“Certainly commanded my attention.”

“Now, I think it was more those flavors I listed that got your attention. Speaking of which.” You withdraw your notepad from your apron and jot down his order. “One peanut butter fudge cake should suit you both nicely.”

“Well, who doesn’t love Reece’s, right?”

You shoot him a look of feigned insult. If you were wearing pearls you’d clutch them for dramatic effect.

“With all due respect, sir, Reece’s is a peddler of cheap, manufactured candy-like substances. I am an artist.”

He clutches his chest in mock dismay. “I do beg your forgiveness, Picasso. I did not mean to offend, and I am humbled to be in the presence of such culinary greatness.”

“Let my cake do the humbling, won’t you?”

“I’d be honored to put ol’ Atkins on the back burner for your masterpiece.”

“That’s quite the compliment.” Now you’re the one blushing. “So, when do you need the Sistine Chapel by?”

“Well, I’m on site until 6. I can probably get here by 6:30. Is that okay?”

Hm. “On site”. Construction, maybe? Hardworking man. Manly man, but not. Man who loves cake. Man who loves his daughter. Ring finger sans ring, you can’t help but notice.

“I typically close at 5, but one of the perks of being the boss is that I can make my own hours. I don’t mind hanging around a bit longer. Especially to fill such an important order.”

“You’re sure?”

“Your kid will kill you if you don’t return with cake, right? I’d hate to hear about that grisly murder on the morning news. And as good as my desserts are they’re nothing to die for.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” he smirks. “I’m expecting to get humbled, remember.”

You agree that the bill will be settled upon his return. He jots his number down on a slip of paper, just in case you have any questions. You only have one and you ask it before he can step through the door.

“If this is a birthday cake then I’m going to give it the birthday flare. So, to whom shall I be wishing a happy 36th?”

He gives you that smile again. “It’s Joel.”

“Happy birthday, Joel.”

“It’s starting to feel like it, yeah.”

“So, 6:30?”

“On the dot. You got my number, so just call if you’ve got any questions.”

“I do this for a living. I think I’ve got it handled.”

“Right. Then….call if you’d like to talk about anything else.”

“Don’t forget about—“ Me, you want to say, but luckily you manage to shut that shit down before you live to regret it. “You’re cake.”

“As if I could,” he assures you, heading out the door. “Nothing short of the end of the world would keep me from coming back.”

And nothing short of the end of the world would prevent you from baking the best cake he’s had in all his 36 years.

And his daughter, too, of course. You hope a little peanut butter fudge will help make this a birthday neither of them would ever forget.

@grimeylady @rav3n-pascal22 @mamacitapascal @insomniamama1 @pedrosbisch @emmaispunk @lv7867 @reonlouw @hawaiianmelodies @pascalsky @pascalpanic @heythere-mel @healingstardust @delorena @pedropasxal @caesaryoulater @fangirling-alert @fromthedeskoftheraven @axshadows @dragon-scales88 @spacepastel-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @pbeatriz-blog @hauntedmama @mswarriorbabe80 @horton-hears-a-honk @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @a-trial-run-on-paper @oonajaeadira @foli-vora @dhadiirah @felicisimor @practicalghost @luz-introvertida @amneris21 @hb8301 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @dobbyjen @supernaturalgirl20 @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed @trickstersp8 @neganwifey25-blog @twistedboxy @emiemiemiii @energeticspookyshark @thevoiceinyourheadx @pedr0swh0r3 @anamiad00msday

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Dandelion, Destroyer of Drinks

Ah, @lordoftherazzles, my beloved friend!

I have taken the liberty of coming up with yet another AU to keep you on your toes and amuse you! I hope you know how much I love and admire you! <3

Words: 1262

Characters: Thorin x Bilbo

Prompt: Dandelions

Warnings: Haunting

Humming, Bilbo Baggins gave the antique teapot—rumoured to be haunted by the grumpy ghost of a long-dead king—a careful wipe.

"How are you today, Dandelion?" he asked and grimaced, his button nose twitching with dismay.

He really had to get out more, he thought wearily. His friend and kinswoman Primula, who had set him up for numerous blind dates with very nice but extraordinarily boring potential partners, was quite right in claiming that he was slowly but inexorably growing shrewd.

Unfortunately for Bilbo, his life—on paper at least—attracted the kind of interested parties that absolutely did not fit the intimate and outrageous fantasies he harboured within his jealously-guarded bachelor soul.

Moreover, he had to concede that he might indeed be rather peculiar if one got to know him a little better.

Before he could linger on that particularly discouraging thought though, the small bell over the door chimed softly.

Making a beeline across the shop, avoiding knickknacks and precariously balanced furniture with the confidence of a sleepwalker, Bilbo rushed to greet his first customer of the day.

"Hullo?" a full, melodious voice called.

Rounding a high shelf full of miniatures of different animals, the proud owner of "Baggins Antiques and Curiosities" almost collided with a tall, muscular fellow in a worn flannel shirt.

"Hi there," he greeted breathlessly, "I beg you to forgive me—I was just in my little garden."

"Garden?" the fellow muttered incredulously and cocked one dark, unfairly shapely eyebrow.

"Well, not a real one, of course," Bilbo chuckled awkwardly. "Would you like to see it?"

To his surprise, the man nodded and lifted a sturdy hand to signify that he was ready to follow Bilbo into the bowels of his small shop.

Again, the antiquary was astonished because—for all his impressive bulk—the stranger threaded his way elegantly even if somewhat noisily through the narrow spaces between display cabinets and single chairs.

"What can I help you with today then?" Bilbo asked, throwing what he hoped would be understood as a kind and politely interested look over his shoulder.

It might well have been true that he hid an adventurous streak under his impeccable waistcoat and cravat, but he certainly was not the kind of scoundrel who'd lead handsome strangers into an inescapable labyrinth for his own amusement.

"It's my sister's birthday soon," the stranger rumbled. "Dís—that is my sister's name, I mean..."

The man fell silent again and Bilbo heard him mumble something unintelligible under his breath.

"I am—as you can imagine—Bilbo Baggins," Bilbo introduced himself, suddenly unbearably keen to learn who this gorgeous man was and why he had entered this shop in particular when there were several high-end luxury boutiques just around the corner.

"My name is Thorin," the man replied with a soft sigh. "And Dís is my only sister—and the mother of my two beloved nephews."

"Ah," Bilbo muttered, "while I cannot claim that women and their preferences are my areas of expertise, I'd feel remiss if I didn't point out the very pricey shops in the vicinity that cater to exactly that clientele."

Holding his breath, he cursed himself for wilfully sabotaging the first—and potentially only—chance at selling something on that day.

Thorin snorted dismissively.

"Yeah," he drawled, "she's not that kind of woman, I am afraid. She'd be deadly vexed if I gifted her something expensive but bland."

Immediately, Bilbo's heart lifted.

"If you're in the market for strange and wondrous things," he purred conspiratorially, "you're at the right address."

When he turned around once more, he found that Thorin had stopped by the first editions and was studying him intently.

"I agree," he grinned and gave Bilbo a slow, intense once-over that made the comfortable, calm bachelor's blood heat up and tint his cheeks a becomingly rosy shade.

"My garden," Bilbo stuttered breathlessly and pointed at an oasis of flower-themed objects.

"Oh, Dís is a terrible gardener," Thorin hooted and started browsing the wares.

Meanwhile, Bilbo observed the cautiously gentle way in which those broad, blunt fingers lifted, balanced, and caressed crystal roses and marble tulips.

Despite his better knowledge and deep-seated sense of propriety, he couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to have those very hands explore and pet his own ageing skin with such interest and tender care.

As Thorin moved gingerly through the organised chaos of Bilbo's eternally frozen landscape, he suddenly stiffened like a hound catching a scent.

"Oh no," Bilbo cried, "not Dandelion. It's haunted."

He chuckled awkwardly—he could hardly believe that he had said this out loud. No doubt, he would lose both a customer and the most appetising sight he had had in months within a single second if he didn't manage to keep his thoughts from flying out of his mouth willy-nilly.

"Haunted, you say?" Thorin's eyes gleamed with humour and enthusiasm. "Nothing too gruesome, I hope?"

Flapping his hands in a manner that was highly dangerous in this setting and for which he would have reprimanded any other person, Bilbo made an undignified sound somewhere between a snort and a stilted chuckle.

"No," he then said in a damnably high and thin voice, "no, just a grumpy ghost who will ruin your tea."

Meditatively, Thorin turned the antique teapot—covered in lovingly hand-painted dandelions—in his mesmerizingly attractive hands.

"Ill-tempered teapot?" he mused aloud. "Oh, that is just the thing for Dís."

Bilbo frowned. The old porcelain vessel and its cooky history had been with him for many years and he was strangely reticent to let it go now.

"Don't worry," Thorin said softly, searching and holding Bilbo's gaze across a patch of crocheted blueberry bushes. "We'll take good care of Dandelion and—if you dare—you are more than welcome to come to tea one of these days."

"But..." Bilbo started and then stopped himself from spouting more semi-superstitious nonsense.

"My money is on my sister and her '7-berries-tea'. What about you?"

There was that expressive eyebrow again, arching in unmistakable challenge.

"I'll bet against the both of you," Bilbo heard himself rumble as he crossed his arms. "Dandelion will ruin even the best of teas. I'll bring a backup gift, just in case you admit defeat."

"Bring it on," Thorin laughed, cradling the teapot in the crook of his massive arm. "If you want to win my sister's heart, you might want to bring a little toy for the boys. Something indestructible—it can be haunted as well, Kíli, my nephew, could turn the devil himself into a friend."

"Oh, the winning charm is a family trait then?" Bilbo grinned and bit the inside of his cheek as soon as he realised what he had just revealed.

"Seems so," Thorin smirked and winked. "Either way, Mister Baggins, it has been a pleasure. And, before you think that I am trying to dupe you, I will extend another invitation. We have more than enough cursed and haunted family heirlooms in the attic. You've been so good as to show me your treasures—would you like to see mine?"

"I'd love to," Bilbo admitted. His eyes almost bulged out of his head when Thorin bent over the counter to scribble his full name and address onto a scrap of old letter paper lying by the antique till.

"Give me a call," Thorin laughed as he put down thrice as much money as Dandelion was worth next to the note. "And I'll get you front-row seats to the epic showdown between Dís the Destroyer and the Terrible Teapot."

@fellowshipofthefics: Here's another one.

Lots of love from me...always a pleasure getting your requests and prompts, my beloved!

[vishnavishivaa]

A Brother’s Eyes

This is a two shot/TS. This is the first part. There is a continuation that will come eventually. 

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

The silence between the three siblings was comfortable and comforting as well, all three basking in their united presence. 

“Anna,” Kundavai said softly, looking at Aditha Karikalan, who had a relaxed expression on his face, one that came due to being in Arulmozhi’s vicinity. 

“Sollu, thangaiye,” he smiled at her softly, curious expression on his face. 

“Please stay for a little longer with us,” she pleaded, her eyes filled with hope and despair in equal measure. Arulmozhi also looked at his elder brother with such hope that Aditha did not have the heart to say no, despite having to go. 

“Let me talk to Thirumalai,” he sighed softly. “I will lay false trails and stay for another day.” 

Both Kundavai and Arulmozhi brightened up, nodding their heads at his words cheerily. 

Aditha embraced his siblings once more tightly, before leaving to find Thirumalai. 

****

Aditha was walking back, when he heard his sister’s voice talking to another female. Curious, he moved closer to the sound, peering discreetly. 

“Vanathi…”

Ah! 

She was talking to the Kodumbalur princess, who was said to always be in Kundavai’s company. It was also rumoured that the elders wanted her to marry Arulmozhi, and he had heard this from numerous people. 

Wondering what they were discussing, he focused deeper. 

“Illai, Akka. I will not see your younger brother,” she said, sounding stubborn and tearful at once, causing Kundavai to sigh. 

“What did he do now?” 

Aditha had to smile at her tone, the exasperation such a characteristic trait of Kundavai when it came to her brothers. 

“He didn’t do anything Akka…” 

“Arulmozhi,” she groaned, apparently having seen the actual answer on her thozhi’s face. “Paathum paarkadhadai pola?” 

Aditha frowned. His brother had seen the Princess and turned his face away, not acknowledging her beyond that? That did not sound like Arulmozhi and his endless respect for women. Why was he seemingly cold with the Kodumbalur Princess? From all that he had heard, she is a very gentle soul. 

“Akka, I came to see him. I did not come for him to see me,” Vanathi responded softly. Aditha’s stone cold heart melted at the soft words of the Princess, whose tone seemed enough for him to be fond of. 

“Sembian Patti and I saw you lifeless, ready to drown yourself in the Kaveri because you heard my brother drowned in the sea. Face him, kanmaniye. You came for him, show him that his behaviour is not going to push you back.”

“Akka, I don’t like to bother Ponniyin Selvar…”

“You had no trouble standing up to the Ilaya Rani of Pazhuvoor, but you don’t want to face my brother?” Kundavai asked, her palm holding her thozhi’s. 

Stood up to Nandini?

His Nandini?

Aditha was frozen, but impressed as well. He knew just how Nandini was, and standing up to her was difficult for most, including his Thatha Periya Pazhuvettarayar. It showed the Princess had a very strong will power. 

“Akka, it was your teaching that helped me,” she responded instead. 

“Seri, if you don’t meet Arulmozhi, will you at least meet Karikalan Anna?” Kundavai questioned, and Aditha knew she had caught him the second he had come.

“I am here only, Kundavai,” he stepped around the pillar, smiling genially at his sister, whose eyes were narrowed in a mock glare. 

“Anna, idhu enna thiruttuthanam?” asked Kundavai, the smile spilling on her face cheerful. 

Vanathi had moved behind Kundavai, her natural bashfulness coming to play. 

“Anna, this is my uyir thozhi, Kodumbalur Ilavarasi, Vanathi. Kanne, this is my elder brother, who you have heard a lot about from me,” Kundavai introduced them to each other with a smile. 

“Vanangugiren, Ilavarase,” Vanathi said, bowing down. 

“Call me Anna, Ilavarasi,” he responded instead, smiling at Kundavai, knowing she would understand what he meant.

“Then you should call me by name, Anna,” she smiled, seeming to have understood that his acceptance was intertwined with his words. 

Aditha nodded, please with the gentleness of the Princess. His brother was a gentle soul at heart, and he needed an equally gentle soul to light the fire of love in his veins. 

“Will you both help me with something?” 

The asking look on their faces made him smile, and he started talking, faced with the delight of Kundavai and the growing shyness of Vanathi. 

****

“The bikshus want us to eat in a private dining hall?” Arulmozhi sounded dubious, and with good reason. Food was usually had together with everyone. 

“The bikshus gave your elder brother permission for a small, private dinner, Ilavarase,” Vanthiyadevan said instead, walking side by side with Arulmozhi, ready to help him at a moment’s notice.

Arulmozhi nodded, believing it, for his elder brother could do anything he had decided to do.

“Here, Ilavarase,” Vanthiyadevan said, turning into a hall, Arulmozhi following him. 

“Anna,” Kundavai’s voice, so cheerful that day, made Arulmozhi smile. “You have not heard Vanathi sing, have you? Outside me, the only person in this group of us who have heard her sing is your friend from the Vana clan.”

Arulmozhi stopped, his eyes immediately going to Vanathi unintentionally, who was seated on the small seat next to Kundavai, ever with her like a shadow. 

“Vanthiyadevan?” Aditha laughed. 

“Maya Kannanin paattai ketkamal irukka mudiyuma?” Vanthiyadevan decided to reply. 

Vanathi’s breath hitched when she turned to reply to Vanthiyadevan, seeing Arulmozhi standing next to him. 

“Maya Kannana?”

Vanathi had already stood up, all too respectful of Arulmozhi, who seemed to be refusing to see her then. She lowered her face in sadness, before looking back up at Aditha this time, who had a curious look in his eyes. 

“Yes, my Prince,” Vanthiyadevan said. “When I reached Tanjai, it was Krishnā Jayanthi, and celebrations were going on. I went to find the Ilaya Piratti, and came across the dance performance where Kodumbalur Ilavarasi plays Maya Kannan.” 

“I think you were very moved by it, Kamsa Mama,” Vanathi giggled softly. “So much so that you decided to join me as Kamsa Mama.” 

“Vanthiyadeva!” Aditha laughed, raising an eyebrow at the sly smile on the Vana warrior’s face. “Does this mean you also danced with Vanathi?”

Arulmozhi’s eyes snapped to his brother, unable to help himself. Since when had she been Vanathi to Anna? 

“I had to, Ilavarase,” Vanthiyadevan said, sitting on Arulmozhi’s side as Aditha indicated. The latter was watching his brother, who refused to meet anyone’s eyes, and understood the confusion in his body language. 

“I don’t think Aditha Anna is any less than you in spy work, Vanarthavare,” Vanathi said instead, and Arulmozhi’s eyes were suddenly and completely trained on her face. She smiled internally at this, and knew a blush was dancing on her face. However, she didn’t allow her eyes to stray to him, instead choosing to focus on Aditha’s feeble protests, overridden by Kundavai. 

“Naanum en thozhiyum pesuvadai kettadhu needhan Anna,” Kundavai said. “Arulmozhi, idhai kel. Vanathi and I were talking to each other about something, and Anna decided to spy on us. He came out only because I caught him. Or else he would have stayed there.” 

“It was very interesting, Kundavai. How else would I have found out that Vanathi had a word war with Pazhuvoor Ilaya Rani?” Aditha said, purposely looking at his brother for this, whose eyes seemed to find Vanathi’s face. 

Aha! 

There it was. The confusion and yearning in his younger brother’s eyes was clear to Aditha. He knew his brother felt something for Vanathi. 

Now to get him to admit it. 

Aditha knew the task before him was large, but he was up to it, as Kundavai coaxed Vanathi into talking about the confrontation. 

—-------------------------------

What confrontation is this? It is one I assumed in the movies :p 

Glossary:

Sollu, thangaiye- Tell me, little sister

Paathum paarkadhadai pola- He saw you but pretended he had not 

Anna, idhu enna thiruttuthanam- Anna, what is this thievery you are resorting to?

Vanangugiren- My respects to you

Maya Kannanin paattai ketkamal irukka mudiyuma?- How can I not listen to the song of Maaya Kannan?

Naanum en thozhiyum pesuvadai kettadhu needhan Anna- You were the one who heard what my friend and I were discussing, Anna

************

@vibishalakshman @rang-lo @dumdaradumdaradum @thelekhikawrites @kovaipaavai Whoever else wants me to tag them every time I update, please let me know.

[townsenddecades]

1308 – Day 4 – Praaven Castle

Robert has been Sir Silas’ page for a year now, and at this point, he has managed to settle in. He even likes some of the work and lessons. Even the fighting is more fun than he anticipated. Working on the farm has given him strength enough, if not exactly finesse.

Which does not mean that he doesn’t feel stupid when the men-at-arms shake their heads at his difficulty with reading and writing or lack of expertise in etiquette. Part of him wants to fail, just to spite them, but his mother is hoping for so much for him. He can’t bear to disappoint her.

One day, towards the end of the year, Sir Silas tells him that he will be accompanying him to meet the Lady of the castle. He stares at him in bewilderment.

“But you said it would be uncourteous to the Countess to take me there!”

“So I did, and so I believed. But Lady Petersmarch has asked me to take you along.”

“She wants to see me?”

Sir Silas lifts a brow. “Do I need to repeat myself, lad? Make yourself ready.”

And so he does, fear and confusion quickly turning into annoyance at the feelings. He has no desire to be belittled by some high-and-mighty noble lady, as he has been by so many of the servants who know, of course, that he is the bastard of their former employer. He follows Sir Silas up the tall stone stairs to the entrance of the castle and comes upon one of the loveliest women he has ever laid eyes on. He had seen the Countess before, but never this close.

She is dressed in a silk gown of darkest blue – blue and gold being the Dudley family’s colours – and a long veil that covers most of her strawberry-blond hair. Her big, amber eyes seek him out immediately, or at least that is his impression before he bows deeply, as Sir Silas has instructed him.

“My lady.”

“You may rise, young page. So, Sir Silas, this is the boy that's been serving you?”

“It is, my lady. Robert Townsend.”

“You do look remarkably alike to my late husband, Robert. But I’m sure enough people have told you that already. You come from one of the farms outside the city, is that so?”

He struggles to keep his composure but manages to nod. “Yes, my lady. We live near Tovar.”

“We?”

“My parents, my siblings and I.”

“Ah. Well, I hope you’ve settled in well. Now then, Sir Silas, about your report.”

Unbeknownst to the all of them, they are being watched. Three curious heads peak over the railing of an upstairs gallery, the high, echoing walls making it easy to catch what is being said below. Two of the children have the same red-gold hair as the Countess, while the eldest’s hair is pitch black.

Ralph Dudley Jr., eleventh Earl of Petersmarch, turns to his siblings and motions them to follow him into a nearby bedroom, so their conversation won’t be overheard.

“So that’s our brother”, Elizabeth says.

“He’s not our brother, stupid”, Clement interjects immediately. “He’s just father’s bastard.”

Elizabeth raises a brow, in a manner very similar to her mother. “I believe a sibling is customarily someone with whom one shares at least one parent, brother.”

“Yes, but bastards don’t count.”

Ralph clears his throat. “He is a bastard that is currently training to be a knight, though, so we can’t exactly ignore that he’s here. Although mother has done a good job of doing so in the past year. I wonder what’s changed.”

“Doesn’t Your Lordship have all the information he could ever want?”, Clement teases, but his elder brother only rolls his eyes.

“I’ll take the reins soon enough, you’ll see.”

“We should introduce herself, now that he’s here”, Elizabeth puts in, to end the quarrel before it can start. She doesn’t have time for her brothers’ useless squabbles. “I at least am curious to meet him. A peasant brother, can you imagine!”

“Yes, let’s”, Ralph agrees. “Who knows, maybe he’ll prove useful to have around.”

So down the stairs they go. They don’t sneak – Ralph doesn’t feel he has to sneak, he is the Earl and this is his castle, after all – and peer around the corner. Their mother and Sir Silas have moved on into the banquet room to have their discussion, but their half-brother is standing near the door, trying to be subtle in gawking at the rich interior. Ralph assumes he has never been in a place like this. He has grown up in some peasant hut, after all, and the guard hall is rather sparse.

“Pssst”, he hisses, and motions the boy over when that catches his attention. Robert looks towards the Countess and Sir Silas briefly, sees that they are deep in conversation, and sneaks over into the side room the three noble children retreat into.

And then they stare at each other, before the peasant boy bows stiffly.

“Lord Petersmarch, I presume?”

“You presume correctly”, Ralph answers, with just as much dignity. “And these are my sister Lady Elizabeth and my brother Clement.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you”, Elizabeth says kindly. Clement just nods, though more in greeting than to echo his sister’s sentiment. “We were so curious to meet you! It seemed strange to have another child of our father’s living so close yet never to interact with them.”

“We would have sooner, but our duties have kept us away”, Ralph, who doesn’t want to admit that he has bowed to his mother’s wishes on the matter, adds a little pompously. “But we couldn’t let the opportunity pass by now that you’re here.”

“Is it true that you grew up on a farm?”, Elizabeth asks immediately, not especially tactfully, but she is only nine years old.

Robert stiffens, but nods. “It is. I’ve lived there with my parents until Sir Silas kindly took me on as his page.”

“With you parents?”, Ralph asks, with his emphasise on the s.

“My mother and her husband. The man that raised me.”

Clement scoffs, but Elizabeth smiles kindly. “I’m sure it would be hard not to see your mother’s husband as a father. I’m sure it must be nice to…to still have one. I at least miss our father a lot.”

They talk some more, but it remains awkward, and gets more so when the Countess and Sir Silas walk into their hideout, having obviously noticed that Robert has gone missing. Both look disapproving, so Ralph quickly puffs out his chest and looks square at them.

“We were curious to talk to Sir Silas’ protegee, Mother, and it didn’t seem like he was involved in your conversation, so we didn’t think it would do any harm to steal him away.”

“Did you, now?” She studies all of them. “As an Earl you should know that it isn’t right to interrupt other peoples talks by ferreting away participants, Ralph. And any good page stays until he is dismissed.”

Robert swallows with an effort. “I beg your pardon, Lady Petersmarch, Sir Silas. I fear I wasn’t certain whether a summons from my liege overrides my duty to my knight.”

Sir Silas chuckles, and quickly hides it in a cough when the Countess shoots him a disapproving glance. She then turns to Robert. “A valid point, I confess. Still, stealing away is never a sign of a good conscience, is it?”

He just lowers his head at that, although, it must be said, mostly to hide his face.

“But it was interesting to get to know him, Mother”, Lady Elizabeth interjects.

“I’m sure it was, my dear. And I’m sure there’ll be other opportunities, seeing as he’ll stay on here for the time being.”

Robert doesn’t know whether to take this as an invitation or a challenge. 

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