#and yes I used to bathe in scalding hot water back then. I was a dumb kid/teenager

[girlyliondragon]

NOTE TO SELF

Don't use fucking hot water for baths now that your skin is even more sensitive. x.x

Also to shower before a bath.

[quaithe-seastar]

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Ten

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Warning: angst, mentions of Jaehaerys, child loss, grief

a/n: Aerys kinda makes a new friend. Aegon isn't used to people being nice to him. No beta, so I apologize for grammar and spelling mistakes. Also, if anyone wishes to be tagged in future updates, just let me know!

Aerys

The sound of glass shattering on the stone floor woke Aerys, forcing him to sit upright. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin, and his heart hammered away in his chest. His eyes scanned the room for potential dangers. During his search, they fell upon a woman standing beside the bathtub in his chamber. It was the maid—the one in charge of delivering his food.

“I apologize, m’lord,” she bowed her head.

Aerys nodded, watching quietly as she bent down to pick up the shards of what he assumed had once been a flagon. She was a short, large woman with dark eyes, limp brown hair, and an ample bosom. 

“I’ve prepared you a bath,” she said, dropping the shards into a brown bucket, “Though you’ll have to wait for it to cool down a bit.”

Aerys said nothing. He looked down at his hands resting on the soft wool blanket covering his lap. So, he was not going mad. Someone had covered him up. He turned his head upward, looking to the window. It appeared to be late in the afternoon. The events of last night suddenly came back to him. Unconsciously, he reached a hand up to touch his throat. He flinched; the skin of his throat was tender and sore. 

Aerys stood up, letting the blanket fall to the floor. He moved over to the new mirror in the corner of his room. It had to be replaced, as he had shattered the first one after being told of Luke’s death. He lifted his hair out of the way, observing the red marks that covered his throat. The bruising was only in the beginning stages. But if he looked hard enough, he believed he could make out the shape of Aegon’s hands. 

“Should I fetch the maester?” The maid asked timidly.

“No,” he replied, his voice hoarse.

Aerys dropped his hair, letting it cover the red marks as best as it could. He turned around, eyes focusing on the steam rising from the bath. Aerys walked forward, shedding his clothes along the way. The maid released a short gasp and quickly averted her gaze. Aerys paid her no mind, tossing his clothes to the ground. He could smell the fragrant oils that had been placed in the water.

“It’s too hot, m’lord!” The woman warned.

Aerys ignored her words, lowering himself into the scalding hot water. He did not cry out or flinch. He enjoyed the heat against his skin. It made him feel clean, pure. Though he knew he was far from it. Aerys pulled his knees to his chest, watching the steam rise around him. Something had happened, something terrible. However, he did not know what. The look in Aegon’s eyes as he had his hands wrapped around Aerys’ throat haunted him. There was anger and fury, yes, but there was something else, something more. A deep, painful look of despair, of loss. Something that Aerys was not unfamiliar with.

“What has happened?” He asked the maid.

The woman approached slowly, sitting on a stool beside the tub.

“The prince Jaehaerys has been slain,” she answered woefully.

His eyes widened, and water splashed onto the floor as he quickly turned to look at her. He stared into her eyes, desperately searching for some indication of a lie, but there was none. The woman spoke the truth.

“And Jaehaera? Helaena?” Aerys asked hurriedly. Panic filled his chest, and he found it getting increasingly difficult for him to breathe.

“They live.”

A small wave of relief washed over him. Aerys nodded, turning back around. He dropped his head to stare at the water around him. 

“How did it happen?”

“Assassins snuck into the castle. The boy was...,” she paused, her voice cracking, “beheaded in his bed.”

Aerys closed his eyes, swallowing back the bile rising in his throat. Jaehaerys is dead. Aegon’s words rang loudly in his ears. Did you have something to do with this?! Did you know?! They were words spoken in anger- in grief, but they still felt like a knife stabbing at his heart. Surely, Aegon did not believe Aerys would take part in such an egregious act. To strike down an innocent child in their bed was cowardice. It was an act that only the basest of villains would commit. 

“They say it was the Princess Rhaenyra who sent them. In retribution for her son.”

Aerys shook his head. No, he could not—would not believe that Nyra was behind this or that she had even known of it. She was a mother herself, one who had just lost a son. He could not imagine the woman would want to inflict that same pain on anyone, especially Helaena. Nyra had never been close to her siblings, but she held no ill will against them, least of all Helaena. If this was indeed an act of retribution for Luke, why go after Jaehaerys? The boy played no part in what his uncle had done. Aerys doubted the boy even knew of Luke’s existence. It is a lie. It has to be. No, someone else was responsible for this treachery. To butcher a child in their bed like some kind of animal... that was a different kind of brutality. One that Aerys could not even begin to fathom.

Tears fell from his eyes, dripping into the water. The boy's death saddened him, yes, but he worried more for the boy's parents. He worried for the boy’s mother, who would never be able to see or hold her firstborn child again. He worried for the boy’s father, who would seek revenge for the son stolen from him. He worried for the boy’s twin sister, Jaehaera, who would be forced to grow up without her other half at her side. If she even made it to adulthood, that is. War was imminent. Luke and Jaehaerys were the first to die but would not be the last. Many innocents will meet their ends, both low and high-born. 

Aerys flinched as water poured down his back, droplets trickling from his long tendrils into the bath.

“I’m sorry m’lord. I thought you would want help washing your hair.” The woman apologized, her voice quivering slightly.

“It’s fine. Continue,” Aerys sniffled, wiping his eyes.

“Yes, m’lord.” The woman whispered, continuing her work.

Aerys leaned his head back, allowing her to pour water over the top of his head. She hummed absentmindedly as she threaded her fingers through his hair. Aerys sat quietly. He closed his eyes, trying to relax. His body ached all over. No doubt the results of sleeping on the bare stone floor. His stomach clenched almost painfully and released a rather loud growl. Aerys felt the heat rising on his face.

“Will you fetch me something to eat?” He asked timorously.

The woman stopped, a small smile spread across her round face.

“Of course, m’lord.”

Aerys nodded, listening as she left the room. He waited until the door locked behind her before laying back in the tub. He took a quick breath before sinking into the water, allowing it to submerge his head completely.

–

Aerys nibbled on the bread in his hands while the maid, whose name he discovered was Wylla, brushed his hair. He also found that the woman had a fondness for talking. Aerys had only asked which region of the realm she had come from, and now he knew that she had a brother who herds goats in the Riverlands, a sister whose husband owns an inn in the Reach, and apparently, they are descendants of some long-vanished king of the First Men.

He had stayed silent as she droned on and on, only letting out the occasional hum to let her know he was still listening. It was better than being trapped alone within the confines of his mind. The skin of his neck was sore; even the slightest touch made him cringe. Wylla had said the bruise was darkening already, with slight purple hues appearing with the red.

His mind drifted to Agana. The man missed her deeply. He missed the warmth of her scales on his skin, the wind blowing through his hair as they flew through the skies, and most of all, he missed the strength she gave him, the courage she made him feel. He needed that courage now more than ever.

“Your grace,” Wylla gasped.

Aerys turned his head, watching as Wylla bowed before the dowager queen. Alicent nodded, dismissing the maid. Wylla took the hint, quickly leaving the room. A white cloak that Aerys did not recognize closed the door behind her. Leaving him alone with the dowager queen. Alicent stood a few feet away, looking as regal as ever. She stared at him, toying with the skin around her fingernails. Aerys sighed before standing, turning around so they were face to face.

“I am sorry for your loss, Lady Alicent.”

“Thank you, Aerys,” she spoke quietly, a slight quiver in her voice.

He was being sincere. The woman had just lost a grandchild. He could not imagine that was an easy pain to bear. She cleared her throat, pushing her shoulders back to appear taller.

“But my grief is not the reason I am here.”

Aerys scrunched his brows, tilting his head slightly to the side. It took only a moment before the meaning of her words dawned on him.

“How is he?”

“Angry,” she sighed, “eager for vengeance.”

“And Helaena?” He asked.

The woman froze, her eyes staring at him. He watched as they welled with tears. Her bottom lip trembled as she let out a shaky breath. The woman cleared her throat, quickly hardening her face. It saddened him to see how quickly she internalized her pain. How quickly she buried it in her heart to put on the brave face that was expected of her. 

“She’s alive.” She answered. 

The mixture of relief and sorrow in her voice was not lost on him. Helaena was alive but would now have to live with the turmoil of losing a child, her first child. She would bear that pain- that loss for the rest of her life. Would that truly be a life worth living?

“What is it that you need from me?” Aerys asked.

The woman took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling. She clasped her hands together and placed them in front of her—an array of conflicting emotions crossed over her glossy eyes. She averted her gaze, lowering her head slightly.

“He needs you,” she answered, with a slightly reluctant tone. “To offer him the solace I cannot.”

Aerys turned away from her. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. His lips quivered, and his face contorted as he tried to fight back his tears. The skin of his neck grew hot as he remembered Aegon’s hands around his throat. He did not think Aegon truly meant to hurt him. It was an act done in haste while processing the death of his son. He could not blame him for it. Aerys took a deep breath, spinning back around to face the woman. She stared at him, her eyes trying to gauge his answer. He gave a simple nod.

“Ser Thorne shall escort you to the king,” she said before leaving the room.

The white cloak he did not recognize, Ser Thorne stood at the door. Aerys quickly put on his boots before walking to meet the man. He slowly stepped into the hall. His eyes searched the hall as if this were some sort of trap. Ser Thorne slammed the door shut and began walking. Aerys quickly followed. The castle was dark and quiet. Aerys noted that there were more guards than usual. Looking around in confusion, he realized Ser Thorne was leading him to his grandsire’s bedchamber. However, he quickly realized the reason for this. They crowned Aegon king. Where else would he be besides the king's apartments? Ser Thorne held up a hand, signaling Aerys to stop. 

Dread and worry crept into his mind as he realized only a wooden door kept him and Aegon separate. Ser Throne pushed open the door, standing to the side so that Aerys could pass him. Aerys nodded his head as he did so. He watched as the knight closed the door behind him. 

Heartwrenching cries pull Aerys away from his thoughts. Painful sobs and even more painful-sounding hiccups echo in the air. The sound broke his heart. He turns around, searching for Aegon. He finds the man hunched over in a chair, fiddling with his ring before the hearth. A tightness filled his chest like there was a hand squeezing his heart. Aerys was familiar with grief, but the grief of losing a child was another matter entirely. Something he had no experience with. It was something he never wanted to experience. He did not think he would be able to survive such a loss.

Lost in his grief, Aegon seemed utterly unaware of his presence. Aerys walked over to the man’s side. He raised his hand, hovering it over Aegon’s shoulder. Perhaps this was a mistake. Their last encounter was not a positive one. Would Aegon even want to see him? Would he want his comfort? Or would his presence merely anger him?

Aegon’s body jerked with each painful gasp that escaped his throat. His head hung low, concealing his face. Aerys took a deep breath, placing a firm hand on Aegon’s shoulder. He was willing to risk facing the man’s wrath. If Aegon wanted to scream at or hurt him, Aerys would let him. Whatever Aegon wanted from him, Aerys would provide it.

Alarmed, Aegon turns his head upwards to find the intruder. His eyes are red and puffy, but he still tries his best to look fierce. Perhaps he was afraid someone had come for his head next. When he realized it was none other than Aerys, his eyes softened. His face crumpled, and he burst into inconsolable tears. Aegon’s hands grabbed Aerys by the hips, pulling him closer. Aerys did not fight or cry out when Aegon’s fingers dug painfully into his skin. Aegon buried his face into Aerys’ clothed stomach, howling like a wounded animal. Aerys used one hand to thread his fingers through Aegon’s hair. The other, he used to rub the man’s back.

“My boy,” Aegon cried, “they killed my boy!”

Aerys dropped his head, closing his eyes. He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from crying. He needed to be strong for Aegon. The man needed someone to lean on now, more than ever. 

“I saw,” Aegon gasped. “I-I saw him. I h-held his little-little body,” he stammered between sobs. 

Aerys rubbed Aegon’s back, trying to soothe him. The man only cried harder. Aerys could feel his tunic clinging to his skin. The result of Aegon’s tears, though Aerys did not mind it. 

“I’m so sorry, Aegon...” Aerys whispered through tears.

Aegon shook his head. Aerys stumbled as the man suddenly pushed him away. He watched Aegon pace the room back and forth, shaking his head and muttering. 

“Aegon,” Aerys called, trying to catch his attention.

“They took his head,” Aegon whimpered. “They took his fucking head!” He shouted, grabbing a nearby goblet and throwing the glass with all his might.

Aerys flinched as the glass shattered against the wall. He watched helplessly as Aegon slumped to his knees, crying in his hands. Aerys kneeled beside him, pulling the man into his arms. Aegon buried his face in Aerys’ shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Aerys pressed a soft kiss to Aegon’s hair. One hand held the back of Aegon’s neck while the other rested on his back. No words were spoken as they cried and clung to each other for dear life.

Aerys felt Aegon press wet kisses to the side of his neck. He winced; the bruises on his neck pained him. Aegon pulled away, his eyes observing the bruising on Aerys’ neck.

“I hurt you,” he whimpered, his face contorting in anguish.

“Shh,” Aerys shook his head, “I’ll be fine.”

Aerys pulled him closer, resting their heads together. Aegon leaned forward, pressing their lips together. Aerys did not stop him. The kisses are rough and desperate. Aerys feels a hand run down his body, cupping his clothed cock. He pulls back, grabs the hand, and pushes it away. Aegon whimpers, trying to capture Aerys’ lip again, but Aerys shakes his head.

“Just let me hold you,” he says softly.

Aegon stills; his violet eyes are unsure, and he looks almost afraid. Aerys sits on the floor, stretching out his legs. Hesitantly, Aegon lays down, resting his head on Aerys’ lap. He flinches when Aerys lifts his hand but relaxes when he feels Aerys run his fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. Aerys continues this even after Aegon falls asleep. His eyes trailed over every inch of Aegon’s face, listening to his friend's soft snores. His back ached from sitting like this, but he did not care. Whatever Aegon needed from him at that moment, he would provide it.

Tags: @saicherry, @willow-red, @sadpuffpuff, @teamavatar13,

[philaet0s]

Celebrity/Social Media AU - Part 7

Previous Part (Part 6)

Next Part (Part 8)

I wasn’t planning on posting the bits that weren’t on twitter/texting but I also didn’t expect anyone would actually read that AU here! So I *am* posting some of the POVs aha

Here’s one :) Just under the cut :)

Simon

“Your stupid social media addiction ruined my surprise,” Baz mumbles as I crush him into a hug.

“You came home for my birthday,” I murmur, more moved than I probably should be. I can feel tear burning in my eyes.

I’ve only seen him on Facetime for months. I’m allowed to be a little emotional.

“Of course I did. You really thought I wouldn’t?”

I shrug. “You’re so busy with your tour…”

“Not busy enough to miss your birthday, love.”

Gently, he strokes the side of my face with the back of his fingers.

I hold him a little tighter.

“I’m glad you came. I missed you so much. This is getting harder and harder.”

“Yes, I feel that way too… During the European leg of the tour, I could fly you out on the weekends if you like.”

I shake my head, then bury it against Baz’s shoulder. He smells like sweat. Maybe I could draw him a bath.

“Nah. I’d feel bad taking a plane every weekend. But I’ll come when you play in London. As always.”

…

He’s only here for two nights. His first night back home isn’t very thrilling.

I do draw him a bath, while he sits on the couch and relaxes. I turn on the hanging lights over the bathroom counter, which cast a warm, orange glow on the room rather than the harsh, white ceiling lamp. A bit of soft lighting will probably feel better on his eyes. I noticed that he kept his sunglasses inside. He never loved the aggressively bright and fast-changing lights required to offer his audience a good show at his concerts.

I even light a bunch of candles, the ones that smell like clean clothes –Baz’s favourite, for some reason.

I check the water temperature, which is too hot for me so perfect for Baz.

The room looks nice, smells nice, and the water should feel nice.

I head back to the living room. He still hasn’t taken his sunglasses off, and if I had to guess, I’d say he also closed his eyes, but he’s not asleep. He reaches out blindly, knowing I’ll take the hand he’s holding out for me. I kiss his knuckles.

“Your bath is ready, darling.”

His lips quirk up in a smile. “Hm, I love it when you call me darling.”

“I know.” I tug on his hand gently. “Come on, get up.”

“My body weighs a ton, give me a minute.”

“I can help you up if you like,” I say, as I move my hand to have a better grip on him.

I pull him towards me when he pushes himself up, but one of us uses too much strength and he ends up pressed against my chest. My arms automatically close around him.

“This is nice,” he murmurs.

“Very nice. But so will be your bath. At this rate, the water is going to be cold before you get there,” I say, amusement in my voice.

“The water’s probably scalding. It’ll be fine. Give me a hug.”

Well, I can’t say no to that, can I?”

The hug lasts much longer than it needs to. I have time to trace the familiar lines of his body with my hands, from the dip at his lower back to the curve of his shoulders; with my lips, from the crooked part of his nose to the angle of his jaw. His body weight rests almost entirely on me, it’s soothing. How good it feels to feel so much of him after only seeing him on a phone screen for weeks and weeks.

“Ok, bathtime now,” he whispers, while making no effort to move away from me.

Since I’m the brave one in this relationship, I step back and turn around. I take one of his hands in mine and lead him to the bathroom.

I help him out of his clothes, revelling in the sight of more and more brown skin. The last item I take off is his sunglasses. He has dark circles under his eyes, and his eyelids cover about half of his irises.

“You look tired.”

“Tour. Jet lag,” he answers, flatly.

I stroke his arms. “Love, you really shouldn’t have come if it’s too hard on you.”

“Like hell. I wasn’t going to miss your birthday. I’m glad I came. I just… I might not be a lot of fun tonight. We’re definitely not going out tonight,” he says, before he gets in the tub.

He lets out a long, pleased sigh when his body is fully submerged in the hot water. He closes his eyes and leans his head against the edge of the tub.

“I had no expectation of going out, don’t worry.”

“Are you going to stay with me while I take a bath?” he asks, half-teasingly, half-serious.

“No. But I was thinking I could wash your hair.”

“Hm, that’s a nice offer. You remember which bottle is shampoo and which bottle is conditioner?”

I don’t dignify those words with an answer.

I take both bottles from the cabinets where Baz’s things are stored away while he’s not home and bring them by the tub. I kneel behind the part of the tub where Baz’s head is, open the shampoo, and pour some on his hair. I massage his scalp, loving the little sounds he makes. Knowing I make him feel good, even in such a small way, fills my chest with warmth.

God, it’s been a while since I’ve properly had a chance to take care of him.

[2offayyo-kzt]

50+ random hcs about Sean because I have too much free time :

• One day Charmaine found a strange vase while looking for something in the garage. The next day Sean woke up to see flowers in his bong

• Sean owns a boat that he renamed "the Ocean's 12"

• Sean is the kind of guy who only celebrates Halloween to traumatize children with a real chainsaw

• He has never learned to tie his shoes, and doesn't plan to

• Sean has a lot of sleep disorders (including sleep apnea, insomnia, night terrors, confusional arousals...), so that's one of the reasons he drinks, so he can 'sleep' easily

• He suffers from bipolar disorder (type I), "The Guy Pillow", "the Casino", and "A Night Out With the Guys" were manic episodes, "Pine Barrens" a depressive episode

• The first kiss he shared with Laszlo was on a mechanical bull

• Sean and Charmaine attend couple therapy with the conclusion "put yourself in each other's shoes." Sean took the advice to the letter, wore one of his mom's dress, bought a cheap wig and stole makeup from Charmaine's purse. In the morning Charmaine woke up to see her husband dressed as a woman baking cookies and listening to the Spice Girls. 20 minutes later Charmaine changed into jeans, grabbed a bottle of wine and turned on the TV

• If Sean learns that vampires are real, he'll turn into a conspiracy theorist

• He has a scar from his liver transplant

• He secretly does drag when his wife's not at home, stealing her dresses, heels and make-up

• He owns glasses but never wears them, except when driving at night without passengers

• Sean is color blind, so he always chooses clothes with neutral colours or regular patterns (leopard, military), he is also dyslexic but not diagnosed

• He killed his father when he was a teenager (premeditated)

• Sean has a tribal tattoo on his right arm, 'Charmaine' on his left pec and 'Carpe Diem' written on his lower back

• As a child he was not allowed to watch cartoons so his childhood was forged with VHS of old movies. His favourite was Ocean Eleven 1960, it became his comfort film. He exploded with joy when he learned that there would be a remake (2001) It's also because his father forbade him to watch PBS, that today he only watches sports games and cartoons in front of the TV

• He has been fascinated by the occult and the supernatural since he was a teenager, his father considered it to be bullshit so Sean has always been discreet about it

• Sean gets frequent migraines so he uses essential oils, peppermint or CBD oil. He especially can't stand the smell of nail polish (and remover)

• He and Mikey slept together in college, mainly because they couldn't get any 'chicks'

• Sean lived in Canada for few years, so he knows some French

• He still can't identify the bushes that Laszlo has cut (the vaginas)

• He would never admit it but he loves to sew and crochet, yet he always asks his wife to put the thread in the needle because he can't do it and it makes him furious real quick

• Sean would like to grow a beard but Charmaine can't stand it because it scratches her when they kiss

• While Charmaine is a fucking danger in the kitchen, Sean is excellent, and his favorite dish to cook is lasagne. He uses his cooking skills to sell (edible) cookies in front of universities (it has a great success)

• He's had a string of odd jobs, but now he's the manager of a sex shop

yes I totally based this hc on this image :

• He wears matching underwear with Charmaine (leopard or zebra pattern)

• He has a terrible sense of hygiene; he doesn't brush his teeth because it's "too long", so he only uses mouthwash. To wash his body and hair, he borrows his wife's products, but in the past but he's already used white vinegar for washing himself because it's "more economical". And he only cuts his nails with a pair of scissors

• He has a birthmark on his ass

• He can make a "W" with his tongue

• Charmaine always prepares Sean's baths and makes sure the water is hot, even scalding, because Sean is traumatized by freezing baths (for the same reasons as Gregory in House MD)

• To this day, he's convinced that being pansexual means being attracted to "pans"

• When he was little, his mother forced him to learn the piano, he hated it, so he stopped after a year

• Every time Charmaine sees her husband watching wrestling on TV, she laughs at him saying it's soft porn, her husband's response is "you're not wrong."

• Despite his love of the ocean, he suffers from seasickness

• Sean's biggest fear is having the same baldness as his father, so he buys all kinds of miraculous products he's seen on TV to try and stem the problem

• While Charmaine is a shit at geography, Sean is pretty good

• For a short period of his adolescence he was Satanic, the only trace of which is the inverted pentagram he had scarified on his arm, which is why he always wears long sleeves, to hide his numerous self-inflicted scars

• To reach Sean you have to call him, he never replies to messages, if you're lucky he read, and if you're extra lucky he put an "👍" emoji

• When Sean goes to the bathroom, you don't see him again for at least 30 mins. Charmaine often wondered what Sean did to take so much time to shit, and he simply replied that it was his only moment of peace of the day

• Since he's a "man" he's not supposed to cry, so he only cries in front of movies (his love for the Ocean's trilogy is explained by the fact that it's the only time he allows himself to sob)

• He has a naturally artistic temperament : storytelling, crochet, painting etc...

• When he eats, he always starts with dessert because "the best comes first"

• At the beginning of their relationship, he and Charmaine had a little dog (Toy Poodle) named "Biscuit". One day, Sean almost killed the dog by sitting on it while being stoned (the Sopranos ref)

• He's an energy vampire (only Colin knows about it)

• During the pandemic curfew, he drank hydroalcoholic gel out of desperation because he had run out of beer at home

• He has a stuffed animal named "Badger", It was a bear but now he looks more like a rag, Charmaine almost threw it away by accident, Sean threatened to kill her if anything happened to the first love of his life. Franky has already ended up with a black eye for insulting Badger

• He is still a fan of the occult, tarot, gems energy and astrology etc...

• Every time he goes to the movies with Charmaine, he asks her to hide beer cans under her breasts. At first she thought it was absolutely stupid, but eventually Charmaine did it a few times. She never admitted to him that she could hide a bag of weed in her vagina if need be, for obvious reasons

• He hates IQ tests because the only time he took one online, he scored 89 and Charmaine 130

• If he's rich today, it's because he won a game show when he was 30

• Sean suffers from depersonalization/derealization

• He grew his hair to look like the Joker (and subconsciously Laszlo)

• Most of Sean's savings went into expensive jewelry that he bought for his wife to make up for it

• Behind his Ocean's Twelve memorabilia there's a secret room with absolutely everything needed to organize a casino heist : A notebook with personalized costume sketches for each of his friends + 11 extremely extensive custom-made costumes protected in covers, an entire library about robbery and action books, entire handmade maps of New Jersey and more precisely Atlantic City's casinos, an impressive collection of various weapons and safes to practice opening them, twenty years of research for the perfect heist, accumulated in notebooks and plastic sleeves, a notebook with all the formulas on how to make a bomb, and of course, the homemade bomb in the corner of the room, a huge table in the center with a video projector, a cupboard with other figures and goodies from the trilogy, and posters all around the room

• Sean is a kid mentally, and annoying his wife is his favorite pastime, his favorite activity, being upstairs and shouting Charmaine's name, if she answers, he doesn't answer, until she freaks out

• If someone knocks on the toilet while he's occupying it, he shits louder

• At the beach, every time Sean passes by a sand castle, Charmaine is forced to threaten him by whispering "Don't" because she knows that her husband wants to "accidentally" destroy the castle

• If Sean dies at some point, his unfinished business as a ghost is to kiss Laszlo

• He has very long feet, when he goes bowling with Mikey and Franky. They call him "Bozo", which is the nickname he chooses on the screen to play

• Sean suffers from sleep apnea, so he snores like a pig, and for the past few years he's had a CPAP machine

• In his teen, he sympathized with the Jersey Devil, but after the brain scramblies he forgot that he had become close to the creature

• Sean already asked Charmaine to do ASMR videos just to gain money

• He is stronger than Laszlo at chess

• He wrote plenty of Ocean's 11/12 fics on ao3. Charmaine corrects his spelling mistakes, and she's annoyed to see that her husband only writes sex scenes between men, she'd also like to see between women. His excuse : "I don't have a vagina, how the fuck I'm supposed to write the sensations of having one duh-"

• During a manic episode, he bought 6 Roomba to make an army of them

• He knows the Ocean Twelve lines by heart

• If Charmaine and Sean don't judge the clothing style of their neighbors it's because they probably had a goth period in their youth

• He is a reincarnation, just like Jeff/Gregor

• Jenna is the secret love child of the Rinaldi

• Although he and Charmaine have reconciled, they no longer sleep in the same room; because Sean has insomnia and gets up often to go out on the balcony and smoke his cigarette (which awakens Charmaine)

[kentwells]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman!

someone (aka bestie love angel @clatoera) wanted glimmer/marvel content and i am a woman of the people!!! this is based on her lovely fic awrbfb and based off of many, many silly and sad dm brainstorms!

i also wanted to write something short and fun and happy to get back into it! title from slut! by taylor swift :) i hope y'all enjoy

tw: mentions of sexual assault

When Glimmer leaves the bath, her skin is on fire. Her arms are bright pink from the scalding heat, her head light because of the thick, delicate florals of her bubble bath. A few weeks ago, her preference on the cover of a gossip magazine, bright yellow letters on top of a smiling picture of her. She’s not quite sure who told them, but it’s not true. The baths hurt, the water as hot as she can possibly get it. At least it replaces every other hurt of the night, and forces her muscles to relax.

Glimmer wraps herself in an unbearably soft white towel and steps out of her room. Her heart jumps when she sees the bed – a plush light blue sweatshirt, red flannel pants, and a mango pudding. She’d stared at the platter of pudding all through dinner, but the glittery lipstick she was wearing made it impossible to eat. She won’t let herself get used to these little comforts, but it’s nice to have.

She doesn’t have much of a choice but to put on the pajamas – everything in her cupboards is small and silky, and she’s too tired to figure out the complicated straps. Besides, they have that perfect fresh laundry smell. She looks ridiculous – the pants pooling at her feet, the sleeves hiding her hands – but it’s nice. Warm and soft, not exposed to every tiny gust of wind like she usually is. 

Before she can stop herself, she eats the pudding. Next to it is a carefully folded piece of paper. The strangely familiar, terribly messy scrawl reads:

Hey Glimmer,

If you’re tired of being awake or being with people, then I hope you have a good night! But if you want to talk to anyone or be around someone, I’m awake. 

– Marvel

Warmth floods her stomach, and she’s standing before she realizes it. She doesn’t know quite why she finds so much comfort in this strange, silly boy, and she thinks she knows exactly what he wants from her, but she doesn’t want to be alone. She wants to lie on the soft red couch in his room and watch nature documentaries, giggling as he does his best to imitate the loud roars of the animals. 

His door is ajar, and he’s at one corner of the couch. “Hey, come on in,” he says. “Do you want a blanket or anything?”

“Yes please,” Glimmer says, grabbing the white fur blanket from his bed. Because she has a favorite blanket in his room – the one she got him for his birthday, the one he’s barely used because she curls up in it every night she can. 

She wraps herself in the blanket and settles in next to him. No longer keeping her distance, sitting as far away as he can, because there’s something steadying about him. She can almost imagine that there’s no pain in her throat from being pushed forwards on the dick of a man four times her age, and that her thighs won’t be bruised when she wakes up tomorrow. She’s just a teenage girl watching a movie with her friend. 

“I just had this on,” Marvel gestures to the action movie on the screen – something with a lot of cars. “But I’ll watch whatever.”

“I’ll watch this if we can watch Lovestruck next?” Glimmer suggests her favorite romantic comedy. She doesn’t mind this – her brain is too hazy to focus on anything. But the comfort would be nice.

“10 minutes left, and then absolutely.” Marvel says.

They don’t make it to Lovestruck, because Glimmer falls asleep on Marvel’s shoulder. It means nothing – she’s in a cocoon of the softest fabric known to man, so cozy and comfortable that she’s lulled into a state of bliss. She wakes up to a soft hand on her shoulder, another carefully pushing her hair away from her eyes.

“Tired?” Marvel asks.

“Do you mind if I sleep in here?” Marvel has that look of surprised joy behind his eyes, the one he has whenever she lets him in a little bit. There’s something so endearing about it. Besides, she doesn’t want to be alone right now.

“No, of course not!” 

࿏

When she wakes up, Marvel is playing a game on his phone. In her barely awake mind, she decides it’s okay if she asks “Are you gay?”

“What?” Marvel looks over at her, a hint of amusement curling in his smile.

“Are you gay? Are you at all interested in women?” She pushes herself up, her back flush against the headboard. 

“Not gay,” Marvel pauses. “Definitely interested in women.”

“Any other guy would have fucked me last night.” She says, staring at the wall. She sounds like a petulant child, even if she absolutely did not want him to fuck her last night.

“When you were half asleep?” He says, incredulous.

Glimmer crosses her arms. “Yes.” It’s happened before. She’s pretty, she was in his room. That’s normally enough.

Marvel rubs his eyes, exasperated. “Glim, that’s not normal. That’s like. Date rape. Or I don’t know if it’s date rape, exactly, but it’s definitely some type of rape.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

“God, yes,” the words tumble out before he can stop them. “Sorry. I know you hear that a lot. You are, objectively, really pretty.”

“Pretty girl in your room… didn’t do anything.”  Her voice sounds so small.

“Because, Glimmer. You’re the kindest person, and you’re so smart, and so funny, and I like talking to you. And if I had had sex with you last night, you would have stopped talking to me. And you would have had every right to, because that would have been a shitty thing to do. And I would never want to hurt you.” He looks straight at her, blue eyes meeting bright green. She can feel herself tearing up a little bit, and she blinks to get the tears out of her eyes.

She kisses him. She kisses him, and it’s the best a kiss has ever felt. She’s never kissed a boy, only been kissed, over and over and over. But his hand is gentle on her back instead of possessive, his mouth open and soft on hers instead of hard and taking. 

“Can we talk about this over waffles?” She asks when she pulls away.

Marvel beams at her, all soft hair and shining eyes and a smile that makes her miss his mouth. “I would love nothing more.”

[snapdragonling]

sfw 7, 11, 13 & nsfw 1, 9, 14 for ozy/kallux + bran/sabine! (+ dummies if you wanna xoxo)

thank u!! 😊 | shipping headcanons

7. Would they go to the beach?

ozy/kallux — ozy does need to sit in salt water for a couple of hours for his mental health and honestly kallux hasn’t seen a large body of water (let alone the ocean) in decades so yeah, get these men to a beach. maybe if they survive the campaign they can explore the other continents and find a little seaside town to shack up in for a few weeks.

bran/sabine — YES. bran is an ocean girl and sabine would really love the seaside as well, even more so knowing how much bran loves it. in modern AU bran surfs and sabine would be amenable to learning (but also amenable to sitting on the sand and watching, or exploring the seaside cliffs and feeling the wind pull at her hair and clothes, meeting back up with bran looking a little wilder and more settled)

maeve/dietrich — picturing dietrich vibrating with anxiety at the beach because he's expecting hags to emerge from the water at any moment. he wouldn't be keen in modern AU either, but he would inevitably be dragged along because maeve (and edith) want a beach day and he simply must oblige them. he could’ve sworn maeve already put sunscreen on but now she needs him to apply more for some reason?

11. Baths or showers? Together or separate? Any bubbles or bubble fights?

ozy/kallux — baths were the only option until fairly recently and there’s certainly something to be said for marinating, but ozy personally loves a scalding hot shower. he’d like it even more if kallux was there too. (no bubbles, they're busy)

bran/sabine — either is good but sabine loves the luxury and leisure of a proper bath. there’s a perpetual open invitation for bran of course. sabine never asks or acknowledges it but she is rarely so relaxed as when bran takes it upon herself to shampoo her hair. if she could purr she would.

maeve/dietrich — in canon there's only baths, and maeve valiantly champions the idea of "using the hot water more efficiently" by sharing. it really depends on dietrich's mood whether or not he caves to that logic. in modern AU he'd be more of a shower guy, and more amenable to being interrupted (or letting maeve lead him into the bathroom to begin with)

13. Who stays up late? Who sleeps the most? Does the other have to force them to sleep/wake up?

ozy/kallux — ozy sleeps the most because he lost his elf privileges and needs to sleep like a regular person while kallux trances for 4 hours. great news for kallux who gets to see ozy completely out of it and clingy in his sleep. right now ozy is committed wholeheartedly to the party’s objectives so he doesn’t usually sleep in (apart from the morning after the tavern because he was. um. well) but i think he'd lose his morning-person tendencies if he ever has the luxury of doing so.

bran/sabine — both of them keep somewhat sporadic hours, bran because of her job and sabine because she doesn't sleep well, but in general i'd say sabine is more of a morning person and has to disentangle herself from a sighing bran fairly regularly. bran sleeps more (if only because she takes naps when she needs to. once sabine is awake she's awake for the rest of the day).

maeve/dietrich — dietrich stays up late, wakes up early, and sleeps sporadically. maeve definitely gets the most sleep, and probably has to drag dietrich to bed when he’s being particularly stubborn. (although i like the idea that the inverse has been true once or twice, when maeve had stayed up writing until the early hours of the morning, and dietrich had to grumble at her to go to bed or she'd be miserable the next day)

1. How often do they have sex, if at all?

ozy/kallux — answered!

bran/sabine — answered!

maeve/dietrich — highly depends on how flighty dietrich's being. sometimes there's months between their interactions. sometimes he's in town for a while and keeps swinging by the sommers estate because he's "in the area". when they're travelling together it's definitely more frequent, because dietrich has nowhere to go to escape maeve's flirting and unfortunately it's very effective. tldr: not as frequent as maeve would like but more frequently than dietrich plans for. (and of course later down the line when he stops running it becomes an even more regular occurrence)

9. Quickest turn ons? Immediate turn offs?

ozy/kallux — ozy thinks it's really hot when kallux uses his magic (mostly because it's inherently sexy but at least partially because that was the gift he gave back to kallux, and it feels good to see it in use), and (as of recently) when kallux brute forces his way through ozy's fumbling and takes charge of the situation. DM says kallux is immediately turned on every time ozy exhibits an emotion™, which is such a low bar but what can i say. don't think these two have many turn offs but ozy is immediately derailed by any mention of the traveller, so i guess that's a safe word option.

bran/sabine — unfortunately they are both so turned on seeing each other in a fight. there's an untold number of times where combat has been the foreplay. sabine loves seeing bran in captain mode, striding around the deck and playing her crew like a fine instrument. (she also loves when bran is clearly flirting with her but there's a Task At Hand, so the thought of what they might get up to later is hanging over her head). honestly not sure about turn offs. feel like there's been at least one occasion where the foreplay conversation accidentally got a little too serious/pointed and put a damper on the mood 💀

maeve/dietrich — not to out her on main but maeve seeing dietrich do something dextrous with his hands is a surefire way to get her interested. unfortunately for dietrich all the little touches and bits of contact that maeve bestows upon him without really thinking (or alternatively, with a lot of thinking) get under his guard and make him want more. he's a simple and very repressed man. as far as turn offs go, dietrich really doesn't like the idea of public sex or being seen/heard by strangers. if that potential emerges he's immediately turned off.

14. Lights on or off? Do they look at each other? Or is someone embarrassed?

ozy/kallux — answered!

bran/sabine — answered!

maeve/dietrich — lights off please for the love of god. candlelight at most. dietrich does not want to be perceived. it’s bad enough with maeve’s big ol’ eyes watching him in the dimness, he doesn’t need any more light shed on the situation. (it’s a little unfair of him, since he can see perfectly fine in the dark)

[sprnklersplashes]

whumptober day 29 (ao3)

kanej+scented candle+troubled past resurfacing

content warning for mentions of the menagerie

Steam rises from the water, dancing across the glass and dulling the indigo hue painted by the outside sky. Inej watches it for a moment, then takes a breath and plunges beneath the water. All at once, the creaks and grants of the Slat cease, the constant murmur of chatter is thrown out, replaced by the ringing in her ears and the soft gurgling of the bathwater. She half-opens her eyes, unbothered by the way they sting, and finds nothing but a blur of grey and white, her limbs reduced to mere brown slivers. A girl made of blotches, no body to touch.

It’s not unappealing.

She stays beneath the water even when her chest burns, only coming back up when her lips begin to part. Cold air sting her face. Every nerve in her skin blisters.

When she’d drawn up this bath, she’d left the water on the fire for twice as long as she used to. Dregs raised concerned eyebrows as they floated in and out, and one even tried to remove it under the assumption she just forgot. One look from her stopped him, and as he left, she noticed Anika whisper something in his ear. She didn’t need to wonder.

So yes, the water is hot. Scalding even. It only took seconds for it to burn through to her muscles and make her forget she has a body at all. Exactly what she wanted. 

Her head falls backwards. She breathes in heavily, trying once again to banish the scent of vanilla that lingered. It’s always, always the fucking vanilla. On the windowsill, the candle Kaz had made for her burns softly, the scent of wild geraniums wafting softly through the air. She breathes in again and pulls her knees to her chest, pressing her chin between them so that the water laps at her lips. The sweet flower scent lingers and fills her breaths, but it isn’t enough. That sharp, sugary scent of vanilla lingers in her mind, and everything that comes with it barrels through her.

The infamous Captain Ghafa. Brought down by a lady’s vanilla perfume. What will the legends say if this gets out?

“Inej?” She startles, her heart stutters and stops like a train engine, soothed a second later by the rocksalt rasp of the voice. “Inej, may I come in?”

“Yes.” Her own voice sounds like sandpaper. The door handle turns and Kaz appears, dark hair falling loosely in front of his face. His jaw is tight, his eye dark, but not for the reasons people would think when a man walks in on his lover in the bath. He inhales slowly, steadily, the way he does before a fight.

“Door open or closed?”

“Closed,” she says. He blinks, but doesn’t question it. Instead, he clicks the door shut. Then his hand lingers on the lock and he turns to her, waiting for her approval.

She thinks about it, weighs up two options in her mind. Then, slowly, she nods, and he does as she asks.

She sinks into the water as he comes over, steps punctuated by the rap of his cane on the floor. Near-total darkness blankets the room, save for the small glow of the candle on the windowsill and the orange light spilling through the cracks in the door. The evening lights of Ketterdam push at the window, muted now by the frosted glass. As a result, she feels Kaz sit on the edge of the tub, rather than seeing him.

Minutes pass and they sit in silence. Thousands of things to say race forwards; words, explanations, self-pitying rants, but they fall away before they can reach her mouth.

“Are you all right?” he asks, a gravelly edge in his voice. With her arms wrapped around herself, Inej searches deep inside herself for the words. Yes , says instinct. No , says honesty. No and I never will be , says the broken little girl who was dragged to the Menagerie. I want to burn everything down and make them beg me for mercy and then cut out their throats, says the vengeful spy.

Please don’t leave me, says Inej.

Kaz hears all of it, and more. Slowly, he lowers his cane and lets it rest against the tub. The silver gleams against the candlelight, like the lighthouses posted on rocky cliffs.

For a long time, neither say anything. She feels Kaz’s dark eyes trained on her, searching for signs of an injury she won’t reveal, a tell that something didn’t go as planned. Through her hair, she watches him as well, watches the tension in his shoulders wind down as his search comes up empty. Any other time, she’d smile at him, perhaps nuzzle him and tell him she thinks its sweet. But now, just thinking of such actions makes her chest tight.

Smile. Nuzzle. Tell them they’re sweet. 

More minutes pass in silence, they listen to the water sloshing as Inej moves. A party goes on outside, because there’s always a party going on outside. Inej traces lazy circles in the water’s surface, watches as droplets fall from her arm and make ripples. Then, he finally asks.

“Inej what happened?” he asks softly. She looks up at him now and holds his gaze. The lack of light doesn’t hinder it. She’d find those eyes blindfolded and when she does, something loosens in her chest. 

“Vanilla,” she says. “Some lady passed me in the street and… and she was spraying some vanilla perfume around.” She closes her eyes, presses her face into her knees. Inej only got a quick look at her, but she couldn’t have been more than eighteen. Eighteen and being careless with a sample bottle, and the result was her sprinting to the Slat as if the hounds of hell were on her tail. 

Kaz inhales, a sharp whistle through his teeth. He knows. She told him one night, when she’d bolted out of Wylan’s workshop and thrown up on the street because he started burning sugar for something. Kaz had went after her, let her punch him and scream until the memories faded and carried her home. After, she told him everything. 

So he knows that vanilla is to her what a bare hand is to him. Uncontrollable and unrelenting, a metal hook dragging them back to their pasts. A cold, cruel reminder that what happened to her is never going away. She can put as many years between it and kill all the slavers she likes but this isn’t going away.

It’s burrowed beneath her skin and made a home there. If she could use her knives to cut herself and rip it out she would do it in a heartbeat.

Silently, Kaz dips his hand in the bath, slender fingers disappearing beneath the boiling water. If it hurts him, he doesn’t show it. He keeps his face neutral and lets her see it for what it is. An invitation.

At first, she hesitates, her hand unconsciously pulling towards her chest. Her body is hers, and some part of her feels that if no-one else touches it, it stays safe.

But.. this isn’t someone else. This is Kaz, who cradled her bleeding body all the way to the Ferolind, who wields knives and canes with wicked precision then goes home to tuck flowers behind her ears. There’s no part of her body that he’s touched that she doesn’t know about. There is never a touch too small, too insignificant, that he doesn’t stop and ask her first. 

Discreetly, delicately, she slides her hand into his. It’s just her, and Kaz, and their hands. He squeezes it, and the air turns soft, littered with the scent of flowers. Geraniums, not vanilla. Seconds tick by, then minutes, and at some point she finds that breathing doesn’t hurt. 

“I’ve got you,” Kaz tells her. His voice is low, like the flickering embers in a fireplace, cozy lamps in a living room. 

“I know,” she says. Her heart wishes to say don’t let go , but the words don’t pass her lips. They don’t need to; he can hear them and even if he couldn’t, he wouldn’t dare. If there’s one thing she can count on, it’s that. 

She can’t find the will to get up yet, and so they stay there, hands clasped beneath the water. Kaz looks at the windowsill and while he doens’t say anything, his lips curl, a faint pink creeps across his cheeks before he looks away. They stay there, together, breathing the scent of flowers and of Ketterdam’s smoke, holding each other’s hand. He stays there until the water turns cold and Inej can feel herself again in that moment. Not at the Menagerie, but at home, with him. When she tries off, she feels her body again and it is hers. Not a plaything for a man to grab and pull and discard when he sees fit.

Kaz offers to take her to her room, but she doesn’t take it. Leaving the bath is one thing, leaving the room is another. Instead, they sit in silence, fingers slipped between each other, and breathe in wild geraniums until the candle burns out.

“I’ll get you a new one,” Kaz whispers. Inej smiles. 

[lilunaire]

I'm dying for any ghostflower TWBOS content you have

Can u give us any teaser 🥺 pretty please?

(If it's not too inconvenient off)

TEASER 8 - CH.9 TIL WE BURN OUR SKINS

Hi anon, sorry for answering so late !!

Dont worry, I got your back now 😎 And since I'm so late against, here's two teaser for chapter 9 !

(side note : im so happy to have an ask you can't imagine-)

(teasers below the line)

Teaser 1

Four depressed teenage girls in their pajamas on a bed and a huge tub of ice cream.

They're watching a movie on Webflix, a movie that Margo chose ("It's not so bad," she told them.) And that was perfect, because at the moment, it was an average movie that they needed to watch. With this, they could continue talking while paying a little attention to what was going on.

It's hot in Mumbattan. The three guests each brought a fan, but it wasn't enough. Gwen didn't know she would need a seventy-centimeter-high pot of ice cream in her life until Margo told her it existed on her Earth.

Drowning your sorrows in ice cream, that's the ideal solution!

And by sticking your hands on it, you could be sure of being cooled off.

Gwen also had to admit that she'd seen… better than that. It was a film aimed at young adults (and to be completely honest, female young adults), very cliché and sometimes lame. Fortunately, the two main actors came to save the shaky scenario.

“Margo, I thought you said it was a good movie… Peni whined.

— Actually, I said “not so bad”.

— That’s not the word I would have used to describe it…”

“So, about your parents? Gayatri asked. How's it going?

— Still through divorce, but there's progress! If lawyers are right, just another month and it will finally be behind!"

With the divorce, Margo was already planning a lot of things: for starters, she will finally be able to invite her friends to her dimension without having to hide all the details of their visit. But also organize parties: Margo had parties in her soul.

Her mother was often away for work, and she intended to take advantage of it.

“Cool, I’ll come to squat more then, replied Gwen.

— Only if you bring cakes, it’s not open bar here.

— Deal."

Teaser 2 / CW : Implied nudity

Satisfied with her work, she comes to join him in the bathtub. He, in the meantime, had managed (with great difficulty) to sit down in the water. She comes to settle in too, pressing her back against the wall, which is still a little cold despite the scalding water.

When she opens her arms, Miles understands the message and comes to stick to her, letting her surround his body with her arms. He doesn't need to be asked to put his head back where it was earlier, that is to say against her neck, and once again inhales the comforting smell of peaches.

She lets her hands absently caress his chest and back, rubbing the bath suds onto his skin. He hums in pleasure and contentment, pressing himself deeper into her.

He knows he shouldn't. He had spent the last few hours trying to convince himself that he absolutely had to end this twisted relationship with her before it was too late.

But the feeling of her body against his acted like morphine, and he was addicted to it. He wants this moment to never end. He hears Gwen in the distance asking him if he wants her to wash his hair: that was probably a bad idea given the time. He would probably fall asleep with wet hair, and his mother would go crazy if she saw him do that, especially at this time of year.

But the “yes,” leaves his mouth before he can even form that coherent thought. She makes him to stand up so she can access his shampoos, and grabs the shower head, making sure to lower the water temperature to rinse his hair.

He closes his eyes, and he feels like he's falling asleep almost immediately. But he stays awake just so he doesn't miss what happens next.

IMPORTANT NOTE : hey people who actually speak english unlike me, would you mind helping me ? In Teaser number 1, i said "Four depressed teenage girls". So idk if it's okay in english, but since it doesn't work in french it makes me confused. I don't mean to say that they have depression, just that they're all in a bad mood (but i can't really write that you know ?). But everytime I try to translate it on internet, they all give me "depress". So if anyone can help me on this 🙏

[chalterdh22]

Chapter 22:  How Many Injuries Can I Sustain?

I’m pretty sure after an hour of going back and forth, we both sustained low degree internal injuries, if that’s even a thing, and my whole body felt like one large bruise.  I thought to myself, what a wimp!  I shouldn’t be in this much pain.  But then I looked at Din, who was trying his best not to limp away and sit down uncomfortably on a rock nearby.  He looked in rough shape too.  Probably because he got so used to his armor taking the blow of the fighting.  I was wearing a long-sleeved outer layer, with a tank top underneath.  I couldn’t have that outer layer touch my skin anymore.  It felt like it was on fire.  So, I took it off to inspect at least my arms.

“Maker….”  I whispered to myself.  I have never seen so many colors of skin on one person.  I rolled up my pant legs and the same was there too.  I lifted the bottom of my tank to see my stomach, same.  Wow, I thought to myself.  We really didn’t go easy on each other like I kind of thought we might.  I heard a loud coo and realized Grogu was grabbing my pant leg, as if trying to climb.  I sighed and sat down next to him.  He slowly reached out and touched a nice sized bruise on my arm.  My face grimaced and he quickly pulled back.  

“It’s ok, kid.  I’m just a little sore.  You should see the other guy!”  I smiled and looked up at Mando, who was about 10 feet from me.  Grogu looked over at his dad and started to walk over.  Din picked him up to sit on his lap.

“Hey buddy.”  He was giving Grogu a half hug.  Grogu attempted to lift his under short up since he didn’t have his armor on to see what his bruises looked like.  Din looked down and lifted it up and pointed to one.  “This little green one looks kind of like you, huh?” 

“Gah?” 

“Yes, a little womprat on me.”  He rubbed his head. 

I sat there smiling at them.  They were so cute.  “Maybe we could find a healing pool or bath around here.” 

“I’m fine.”  Din replied.

“I didn’t mean for you.  I meant for me!”  I laughed.  “Although, you could possibly use one too.”  I stood up and walked over to him.  “Seriously, though, are you ok?  Cuz I’m not!”

“You did well.  It’s been a while since I was this sore all over.”  I made my way next to the sitting Mandalorian.  Oh, if I could see his face now, it would be all in pain.  That’s mean, I was thinking, but I still smiled. 

“I know, right!  It looks like you fought 5 people at once!”  I joked and punched him lightly on the shoulder.  He just stared up at me like he wanted to either tear my head off or laugh.  He just shook his head at me instead.  “Well, I’m going to the refresher to take a long, hot shower.  Maybe the burning water will numb some of this.”  I started to walk away, and he grabbed my wrist.  I immediately looked down at him.

“You did well Suri.”  He took his other hand to hold the same hand he held my wrist with and patted it slightly.  “Our next set of training will involve never being caught off guard.  Always be prepared.” 

As he said that, I felt his hand squeeze my wrist and my instinct to pull away was taken from me.  He stood up fast and his cape made a swoosh sound like a large bird taking off.  He immediately flipped me over his shoulder and started walking to the cabin.  “And you would be eliminated by now.”  He chuckled. 

He sat me down at the door.  “Go take your shower.”  He lazily sat down on the chair on his little porch with Grogu waddling back up to be picked up by his dad.  I just stared at him.  For once, no words came to my mouth.  I did want to beat him, but we were beyond that.  I slowly turned and walked into the small cabin, grabbed some fresh clothes, and walked into the refresher. 

I started the shower up and slowly started stripping myself down, looking at my body which just looked like a hot mess.  Wow, I was thinking.  I don’t think I have a patch of “normal” skin on me right now.  I stepped into the scalding shower, which seemed to take away most of the pain.  Standing there just letting my body melt under the heat of the water I closed my eyes.

I kept trying to tally up the number of times that both of us could have ended each other if this was real.  Because, you know, I had to know if I won or not.  I shook my head slightly like really, what does that matter.  I’m too competitive, I swear.  I wonder if he really was hurting or if he was just trying to make me feel better.  No, I got some good shots in at him, although I could tell there were a few jobs that made him flinch, either because I hit a tender spot, or because it tickled.  It didn’t matter though.  A flinch is a flinch.

Scrubbing myself gently with basic bar soap, I rinsed off and got out.  I put on my new clothes, which even though they were light, still felt like they weighed a ton.  How does he stay in his flight suit like that all day, I wondered.  He’s just used to it, I guess.  Walking into the main room, I threw my dirty stuff into a basket to be cleaned for later.  I sat down on the sofa, or my bed and kicked my feet up.  I was so used to immediately putting on my socks and boots, but once I laid back, I just looked up at the ceiling unable to move a muscle.  I almost felt numb, but in a good way, like my body needed this.

I heard Din walk in with the kid.  “Feel better?”  He stopped at the end of the sofa, looking down at me.

“Yup, nice, relaxed, and no longer feel any pain.  Thanks for asking.”  Din put Grogu on my shins and walked away. 

“Watch the kid while I change up, please.”

“Yes sir!”  I yelled back, saluting him as he walked away.  Grogu was now trying to walk carefully on my legs, which didn’t nearly hurt as much.  He slipped and grabbed onto my foot for balance, and I jumped slightly as it sent tickles through my leg.  I sat up and smiled at him. “Let go of my foot Grogu, come here.”  I held my arms out for him to walk in to.  He didn’t move though.  Instead, he took his other hand and grabbed onto my other foot, which made me sit straight up.  “Careful,” I said.  “That tickles.  Come here!”  I reached forward to grab him.

“Gaaaah!”  He squeezed them again and I grabbed him to pull him away.

“That’s enough, little one.  Just snuggle with me for a few minutes.”  I hugged him sternly.  I leaned back and closed my eyes.  He put a hand on my forehead.  I felt like a warm hug had fallen around me.  I was so comfortable.  Here was supposed to be taking care of him, but he was comforting me.  I had a small smile on my face and looked at him, who was staring back with those big, clack eyes of his.  “You make me happy.”  I whispered to him.  His ears perked up and he sunk into my arms and closed his eyes.  That’s just fine. Let’s just relax a bit, I thought.  I didn’t realize that I fell asleep with him.

[ryv-chan]

Ryu's Creepypasta Life: One

AN: I'm posting a story here, copied and pasted from a current one I'm writing over on Wattpad (Yes I'm a little bit freaky). This is chapter one, and I'll be posting the chapters here as I publish each one of them over on Watt.

If you want to see the description for the story I'll post the link to the story with each post as well.

Here's the Wattpad version of the story.

--

One

Ryu didn't have the most entertaining life. At least right now since he was living out on his own, working a 9-5, 5 days a week. Everyday seemed to be the same day, but Ryu was used to it. He lived in a rather small house with a separate garage, though he couldn't afford a car just yet. He didn't have very many friends either, if co-workers could even be considered friends. Ryu chalked it up to him having the appearance and voice of a woman, but what was in his pants would say otherwise.

Ryu was used to the misgendering, but there were a few blessed souls in his co-worker group who surprisingly believed him. He was actually grateful for their hospitality, since the likelihood of Ryu being a male with female hormones was just as likely as someone being born intersex. So Ryu's co-workers probably assumed as such, though Ryu only had one set of genitals.

--

Ryu was awoken by his alarm going off, flashing 7:00AM in neon red directly in Ryu's eyes. With a push of a button, the irritation would subside. Ryu now had an hour and a half to get ready for yet another 8 hour shift.

He flicked on his lamp and forced himself out of bed, and made his way over to the bathroom next door. Ryu turned on the shower water, and as the steady stream of hot water slowly filled the room with steam, he was undressing. But when he put a foot in and it touched the water, he recoiled back in pain and let out a yelp at the scalding hot water. Normally there was always a certain position to set the shower handle in when someone wanted the perfect temperature of water, and knew how to set it. And that was no different with Ryu.

Ryu glanced at the shower handle and saw that it was set to its usual position, he might've thought that it was a centimeter off from its usual position. The house he stayed in wasn't the best, the water pressure was low since all of the other complexes would be watering their grass in the late Spring, and other people had to bathe, wash dishes, clean their cars, and drink water too. Ryu only stayed because it was a cheap complex of homes on country roads.

Ryu reached over, avoiding the near boiling water and set the handle back just a touch. Soon, the water was now at the right temperature. So he climbed in. Just a slight inconvenience because of a shitty, cheap neighborhood.

--

Ryu stepped out of the metro station, walking up the stairs he was once again greeted by the city. The tall buildings and bustling traffic was quite the contrast from the dirt roads that Ryu resided at. But the city was just as messy with trash, overflowing dumpsters, and rusty pipes that scoured up the buildings like vines. Ryu was at least lucky he didn't have to risk getting run over by cars, since his journey to the small diner didn't involve cross walks.

Ryu walked in, putting his apron on as we went behind the counter. The smell of fresh pizza, burgers, and ramen didn't phase him, but it was still a pleasant greeting. Ryu could see there only 3 out of his 4 coworkers were there: Lisa, Mia, and Oliver. Oliver was cooking while Mia and Lisa were serving people, with Lisa going back there occasionally when she had the chance to put some of the ingredients together for Oliver.

"Hello, dear Ryu." Mia smiled warmly. Mia was the youngest, 17 and a senior in high school. She had deep red hair to match her deep colored eyes, always wore a few hair clips everyday, most recently had a small bandage on her left cheek, and was a real sweetheart and always chipper.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, tired like usual…" Ryu sighed softly, "And you…?"

"Good!" Mia smiled, "We're gonna have you get started on some dishes and throw pizzas in the oven when Oliver's ready."

Ryu smiled softly, and went off to do as he was told. Luckily there wasn't a lot to do, unlike some previous rushes.

When Ryu was almost done with the dishes, Oliver turned to him to say something.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be telling you this, but Alex wanted to go out on a date with you."

Alex was the coworker who wasn't working the current shift, Ryu saw him as nothing more than a coworker and didn't know much about him besides some of the stories he would tell about his life. Alex was seemingly a bit shy, and more of an "emo" than the rest of the crew.

"When and where does he want to meet up…?"

"He wants to meet you during this upcoming weekend, Saturday, at that little vintage cafe." Oliver spoke, "He was hoping you'll be there at 6pm, since he told me that in case you didn't show up, he would get the hint."

Ryu went back to doing dishes, trying to think about it. He never really had a big focus on dating, he was more focused on trying to live a sustainable life. As long as Ryu was able to pay bills on time and eat, he was content.

Saturday was four days away, leaving Ryu with plenty of time to decide. It might be a big mistake, as Ryu was somewhat socially awkward and an introvert. But he could also see that in Alex.

--

Things died down and so that left the staff to finally clean up everything. Ryu and Lisa were left to clean up the lobby area, while Oliver and Mia cleaned up behind the counter.

Ryu was in the middle of wiping down and then squidgy the windows. There were a bunch of window banners that obscured Ryu's view of the streets, but he got a glimpse of everything as he passed a gap in the banners. Ryu was working from right to left, cleaning the far left end of the last window he was able to see into the broad windows of the apartments a little to the left. The man couldn't help but just take a quick gander as he was cleaning.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, a window showed someone was watching TV, and another window towards the top showed someone standing at the window. They were just standing there, all the lights in the home were off, and Ryu could only see their pale, skinny body. Typical crackhead.

Cleaning some more, and serving a few customers, it was now dead again with almost nothing to do.

Mia turned to Ryu, "Soo… I heard you like someone?" she asked in a teasing and mocking tone.

Ryu wasn't sure how to react at first, especially with that smug look on Mia's face, "And…?"

"Oliver told me about the date you're going to go on!"

"Maybe!" Oliver interjected.

"Ya, I still have to think about it before making a choice…" Ryu explained, "He seems like a nice guy, just a little shy… like me…"

Mia still had a cocky expression, "So what do you think gonna happen when you two do start dating?"

"I don't know, the usual affection I guess…" Ryu said softly, tapping his fingers on the counter, "Though, a cup of tea or coffee doesn't sound that bad… now that I'm thinking about it…"

"Oh, you both are going to Central Perk? They got really good pancakes." Mia beamed.

"Well… we're supposed to be meeting there at 6pm, so it'd seem a little odd to order pancakes at that time…" Ryu sighed softly.

"Nothing is stopping you, if you're hungry." Mia spoke.

"True…"

--

That's the end of chapter one, I'll be taking some criticism as well so I can work on improving story writing, world building, and consistency in logic.

[chargetheintruder]

[Nightmare]  In the Future.

I had been caught, a second time, illegally travelling from West to East, going back home to what was left of civilized, Majority America.  I had gotten caught crossing a Mississippi River Bridge without full paperwork in triplicate.  And so the second time I had to be punished even though I was in bad health and clearly showing signs of severe distress . . . so in this mess the Relocation Clearance Agency saw fit to do a 48 Hour Name and Shame session, exposing me on Public Access Television (what was left of it, online and off), and they saw fit to give me a Public scrub down.  A very harsh public bath and de-lousing under VERY scalding hot water (near boiling), and then making damned sure to shave off ALL of my hair, including eyebrows, once it was medically clear I didn’t have worse than second degree, blister burns on “less than ten percent” of my body.  No, I didn’t understand how this worked either, they could have shaved me off first, nor do I get how my skin wasn’t cooked off.

What I did understand was that I was Back East, and that I had to keep it together at all cost and any price, because IT was watching.  This was surveillance country, The Orbs were literally everywhere and they were advanced.  In Mainland China, the surveillance A.I. can identify you by the way you walk.  In what’s left of the USA, the surveillance A.I. can do that and also damned near read your mind.  The Orbs scan you in visible light, sure, but they also scan you in long-red to infrared images, and if they get a clean shot of a square centimeter of your hands, wrists, neck, throat or face, they’ve got you.  This is especially true if you make “eye contact” with an Orb.  And once they have you, they can infer your body temperature, heart rate, blood pressure, blood oxygenation, and current brain wave state from across a room.  With eye contact the Orbs can also infer if you’re remembering (and submitting to evidence), fabricating (lying, and/or being creative), or merely engaging (talking, doing something or thinking critically, a.k.a. questioning and being a problem).  Combine that with a five-sigma statistically accurate bodily heat map of your skin and extremities, and the Orbs can infer your baseline emotional state.

With that and the metadata from your mandatory smartphone, the Orbs can literally know what you’re thinking and doing up to 15 minutes before you do.  That’s the whole point of the system and that’s why half of America is saved, why civil society seems intact under a thicker than usual layer of forced calm and quiet despair.  It’s because these Orbs are everywhere, even in the bathroom of your house--and yes, they’re clever enough to self-censor their evidence--and literally NOBODY gets to do anything anywhere without it being known about and exposed on the internet in advance.  There are few secrets and NO surprises allowed.

And yes, one good thing did come out of this: the Universal Surveillance Escheat.  It’s a residence-based UBI system that reimburses people based on how much invasive surveillance they have to tolerate in their homes.  On average in Illinois the USE payment amounts to $1800 a month: it’s more in Chicago, less way downstate in Carbondale, but not by that much.  Combine that with all of the “free” 5G-grade internet and wireless Cable TV you can stomach, as well as Illinois State Rent Control, and well, the state’s not a bad place to live if you can stomach Being WATCHED.  Because seriously.  If there’s anyone with ANY question ever about your behavior, it WILL be known.  Everything is exposed and nobody gets a surprise anything, never mind a birthday party, anymore. But hey, it could be worse, right?  You could be out West, interred in Minority Territory, where people first rejected the A.I. system, then where “rational people” got forcibly evacuated from the whole Western half of the nation (over a false Yellowstone Eruption alert), just so that the Idiot 28 Percent, and their sympathizers, could be sent out West . . .to ruined states where any and ALL technology made more recently than January 1971 was scavenged up and destroyed.  So maybe you get color television.  There is no cable TV, no internet, no touch-tone telephones, never mind cell phones.  Are there exceptions?

Of course there are, but you have to be Provisional Internment Enforcement to have access to them.  You have to be the militarized occupiers who are there to enforce Sniper’s Law on all of the nationalist, neo-nazi, redneck, radical and evangelical ex-citizens who are kept out West, kept from the civil society they threatened one too many times.  It’s true, there’s no Orbs out West. Just armed drones by the hundreds, and Black Helicopters as well.  NOBODY is allowed outdoors between 9 p.m. and 9 a.m. all 366 possible days of the year.  If there’s an emergency during curfew, tough, just die of it then.  Nobody gets tech more recent than the 1970s, nobody gets access to modern culture or internet, no current books or magazines unless you “import” (smuggle them in) at very high prices, and it’s easier to get food air-dropped via commodity box than it is to safely do a run to what’s left of the grocery stores.  Everything is intentionally kept broken, scarce, and borderline useless.  No ex-citizen is allowed full-time work, unless half of said “full-time” paycheck goes into paying a Residency Fee in a Company Town.  Intact Cities are so few you can count them on the fingers of one hand, and you had best believe you WILL be owned and in debt until you die, should you try to eke out a living in Vegas, Denver, Omaha or Boise.

(and if you are given to driving an unmonitored fuel-burning vehicle, and are willing to take the risks, you can literally double or triple your USE payment by running books, magazines and other “contraband” out West.  But that’s the catch.  Any fool can drive out West TO the Internment Zones that were once free States.  The Orbs don’t bother with that, just because they KNOW you’ll come back, and get caught then)

(IF you don’t get shot dead by the helicopters and drones, and drones, and drones, and DRONES)

And sure, there’s holes in this.  Hawaii is considered both Majority America and part of the Magnum Opus Corporation that owns Las Vegas and has made Vegas a Company Town, and oasis of civility, in Minority Territory.  Alaska is both Minority Territory and a Spare Mercy/Humanitarian Aid Zone courtesy of being partially occupied by Canada.  It’s not that Canada doesn’t want to see the lunatics of the former USA contained and punished--rather, it’s that they don’t want to see the people of Alaska get themselves killed on Canadian soil trying to leave Alaska.  That’s already caused 2 incidents with the Insurgent Idaho movement as it is.

So for Alaska and Hawaii, there are still a few people with a few better choices available to them.  For the rest of us: It’s either the Majority American area, where everyone’s watched and exposed like they’re a medium-risk client in a psychiatric ward, or it’s Minority Territory, where everything’s either old and half-works, or just plain ruined, and where you might be kept poor and desperate enough to actually TRY to get yourself shot from above.  (and yes, up to 10 percent of the Former Florida crowd is said to do this every year, if you can believe the rumors)

[sanguine-serpentine]

Okay, I finally did it. I finally wrote the most self-indulgent fic of all time. The bathtub scene. (Heavy NSFW under the cut!)

“Acacius, /please/.”

Bahari stood across the dim hallway looking at her friend, her hand on her hip defiantly, her brows knit together as her expression changed to pleading. The pair were equally dirty after their fight with the rotting flesh demon, both covered in ichors of black and green and brown, and smelling something awful. Their fight was a just one on both sides, so no one was winning.

Acacius tried to pincer her at the door, but her hand barred his crossing into the bathroom. Yes, they were really going to fight over this right now, neither one seemed to be backing down, and Bahari was set on winning. Acacius was silent, quiet after the events of their previous fight. He just looked up at her with an exasperated look on his already tired face.

“I won’t be long.” The yuan-ti continued to try and make her case, putting one foot over the threshold of the bathroom. She tried to squeeze past him while still talking.

“Plus,” She kept trying to sweeten the deal while actively pushing him out of the way. “I can make sure no one tries to take the bathroom before you get your chance. I can just hold down the fort until you’re ready. No one will sneak past you.”

An annoyed scoff came from the brunette man, accompanied by an eye roll. “Bahari, you can’t make that case when you are literally doing that right now.”

“Yes, but I am good at sneaking…” Bahari smirked, having gotten her way into the bathroom fully. She winked at him while promptly shutting the door in his face. The last thing she saw was Acacius folding his arms angrily across his chest.

“You’re a pain, Bahari.” The familiar accented trill called out to her, a small flavoring of annoyance making her feel bad momentarily.

“And so are you, love.” She had to laugh, shaking her head to herself. After a moment, the sound of Acacius’ footsteps carried down the hall and down the stairs, and Bahari was left with the upstairs bathroom of the Burgomaster’s manor to herself.

Looking around the room, there were a few lit candles lighting the space in iron wall sconces, helping Bahari to see the clawfoot tub and the ornate sink in the dim light of a dreary afternoon in Barovia. The bath had been drawn already, and the water looked hot, judging by the soft pulls of steam rolling off its surface. Various soaps and lathers had been left where she could find them, as well as a dry towel. ‘Ismark, the ever hospitable host’, she thought to herself as she began the process of removing her soaked and soiled clothing.

Maybe it was the stench on her still, but Bahari was beyond excited to have this moment to relax and have peace of mind for just a few minutes. It wasn’t everyday someone who adventured across the lands got to take a hot bath in the security of someone’s home. Most inns or taverns Bahari was used to had communal bathroom spaces, with wash bins or buckets. Said wash bins or buckets were used by whoever for whatever, for washing anything from themselves to their clothing and gear. It also wasn’t changed nearly enough, as people were always coming and going from the bathroom. The thought of the uncleanliness made Bahari shudder slightly, wishing not to go back to something like that, but knowing it to be common practice, even here in Barovia it seemed.

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, Bahari tried to delicately handle her clothes so as to not drip rotting flesh or refuse water too far. She already felt bad for the rest of the manor, as seven individuals couldn’t have been careful enough even if they tried. After a few moments of meticulous stripping, she left her black slacks and red corset top in a neat pile by the bathroom door. She would have to take care of them and wash them after she had washed herself. And so, Bahari stepped delicately toward the bath, using her toe to test the waters.

They were hot, but not scalding. After the fight she’d just participated in and the ghosts she’d just witnessed, Bahari welcomed a hot bath. Another momentary pang of remorse for stealing the bathroom from Acacius crossed her mind, but it was washed away as she sunk her sore body into the bathtub and into the water. A soft and content sigh left her lips as her red eyes slipped closed. Adjusting her body slightly, Bahari let herself sink as deep as she could under the water. She lay there for a moment, acclimating to the temperature and just breathing in the warmth, eyes closed.

Ismark had been kind enough to offer his space once again to Bahari and her friends, and she was grateful, especially after what they’d seen in that horrid old house a second time. He didn’t question them when they returned beaten and bruised, and some of them downright soiled. He merely helped them get comfortable again, and gave them what he had available. A place to wash up, a place to rest, and a place to plan, all under one roof. The Burgomaster of Barovia Village, while a deeply troubled man who clearly didn’t socialize often, continued to be the nicest person to this ragtag group since they’d gotten to Barovia, and it did not go unnoticed. He didn’t have to be kind, yet he chose to be kind to total strangers. Though they had stayed in contact with him because of an errand he’d asked them to run, Bahari had no doubt that they would still visit Ismark regardless. At least, she would visit him.

Her mind flitted briefly to the time they shared under this roof. Her counterparts all piled into the sitting room downstairs the best they could fit, making seats out of side tables and sitting at each other’s feet on the floor, dragging chairs from other rooms as they kept bringing in new people. Leonora, Vasilica, Victor, all additions even within their time here. A group of strangers all talking and drinking and eating, sharing stories and getting to know each other even in the challenging new setting. Ismark included, getting drunk on bad wine and company warming his previously empty home. No doubt this group of strangers breathed new life into this manor and the man who occupied it.

And what of the man who occupied it? The thought of him even now had Bahari’s lips pulled into a faint smile, even with the bathwater resting just under her nose, tickling under her golden nose ring. She couldn’t help it. She had her own experiences with Ismark, ones no one in her group even knew about. Was she afraid to share them? Maybe slightly. Bahari was the type of person to keep something under wraps until she was completely certain it was time to share the information. To her, it just didn’t seem like something everyone else had to know. Plus, she had a fear that if more people knew, more people could use it against her, no matter how simple it may seem. She had no idea who her allies were. She was barely starting to trust her own group, and that was mostly due to proximity. She trusted one, Acacius, but she was even worried to tell him about this thing.

It was a thing. It was becoming a thing, and a thing she didn’t know how to deal with. Not necessarily a bad thing, either. Just a surprising thing. A brand new thing. An unnavigable thing. Gods, she knew this wasn’t the time for new things either. Stuck in a new place, unsettling things happening left and right, a self-proclaimed and identified vampire who seemed to want to keep tabs on her, who was also the ruler of this land… Why was her time with Ismark consuming her mind? Why were those thoughts eating her alive during her waking moments?

A memory pushed forward, her favorite to recall in her moments of peace. Herself and Ismark standing together in one of the bedrooms of the manor, Ismark telling her about ballroom dancing when she asked about the dress she’d left with him. He asked her if he could show her, and suddenly his hands were on her waist. He asked to make sure it was okay, and it was okay that he touched her, even better that he asked. Anything to help teach her this dance. And an eager learner, she got the hang of it so quickly that it turned into them really sharing a dance, as their feet paraded around the confines of the abandoned bedroom. Steps easy for the yuan-ti woman who was ever dextrous, steps easily recalled by a man who once upon a time had to learn them for some reason or another thanks to being the son of the Burgomaster. They moved in tandem, bodies close enough to feel the heat, smiles bright and cheeks flushed, embarrassed only to meet each other’s gaze. Bahari feared that if Ismark got a good look at her, her cover would be blown and he’d see just how adoringly she was looking at him that day. She could still remember what he looked like, as she fought her own want to hide her feelings just to see his expression. He was happy, a look on his face brighter than she’d ever seen, even in the brief time she’d known him. His smile creased the skin around his gray eyes, he was so happy in that moment. It made her heart leap then, and it made her heart leap now as she thought about it.

For a moment, she’d been carefree. She was noticing a pattern, noticing just when she was feeling carefree since arriving in Barovia. The first time was getting drunk in the manor with Ismark, Greta, and Acacius on one of their very first nights here. Strangers coming together over the ever-welcoming idea of alcohol and laughing into the night with rosy cheeks and a sense of calm when sleep finally took them. Ismark was just a man they’d met back then, but in that moment he had been gracious and kind and given them a place to stay. He seemed to enjoy the company, or even just the drinking company, and he was drunk but he was happy then. Bahari recalled a fleeting thought of ‘oh, he’s handsome.’ that night, but thought nothing more of it when they’d left town for Vallaki. If only her past self had known what she’d been thinking of lately.

Bahari, stuck in deep thought about Ismark and the times they shared since she got here, decided she’d had enough lying around in the water. If she didn’t want to smell so bad anymore, maybe she should actually make an effort to wash up. And, she could still think about things while washing her hair. She took a moment to fully submerge her head under the water now, getting her long white hair fully damp and hopefully rinsing out any debris. The shampoo that she found smelled of roses and herbs, and the thought crossed her mind that this was what Ismark smelled like when they shared their dance. Long pointed fingernails took their time to comb through bubbles in her hair, making sure to clean the best she could. The last thing she wanted was to have something rotting tangled in her hair. No, roses and herbs would be much better.

How could she forget about cooking with Ismark? After their dance, after everyone suspecting Bahari of something she wouldn’t fess up to, she spent her evening cooking a meal with Ismark for them and her new friends. Sure, it was awkward, because it happened after they’d just been swaying together, chests pressed together upstairs for close to twenty minutes. Surely, it was awkward for both of them to go from that, to cutting vegetables to roast and small talk. Bahari was just thinking about his hands, unable to focus on much else other than how he gripped the kitchen knife and wishing their hands were still interlocked like they’d been in their waltz. Leaning with her hip against the countertop and a glass of wine in her hand they talked about everything. Life in Barovia Village, what the jungle Bahari was from was like, what traveling was like, all while nursing wine and stoking dinner. Things were a sort of normal neither one was accustomed to. This was the moment Bahari realized she couldn't ignore that nagging in the back of her mind. She wasn’t looking for anything, yet this man seemed to stumble into her life and blindside her with the idea of kindness and hospitality, giving when he didn’t have anything left to give. It was then, sipping wine and pink in the cheeks. It was then, laughing and stealing glances. It was then, she wanted to kiss him then.

And maybe that was why she made the joke, looking up at that nasty old house that very evening. She didn’t want to have to go in ever again, and most of her companions felt similarly. If not for Leonora being asked by her uncle Strahd to go and eradicate the spirits within, Bahari and her friends may have never given the Durst family home a second glance. Bahari was assuming walking back through that threshold was a death sentence, and in that moment of walking up to the front door she felt a pang of regret for not kissing Ismark when she’d felt the draw to.

And maybe that was why she made the joke, stating under her breath and unbothered by who might here, that if she made it out alive a second time she was marching her ass back up to the Burgomaster’s manor and fucking that man. It was mostly a joke, fueled by her errant need to do or say something funny in serious situations and a bubbling fear for what was waiting for them beyond the front door of this abandoned place. He was on her mind even then, when she was worried she was facing certain death. He was stuck there in place, and she was unable to shake the image of him smiling at her as they danced together, unable to shake the image of him pouring her a ‘secret glass of wine’ while they cooked and chatted and the smirk that brought to his lips.

Bahari took the quiet time in thought to wash any remaining ichor from her body, and was happy to see that it wasn’t that hard to remove like she’d been worried about. A sigh left her now as she rinsed the bubbled lather from her pale locks, a confused one as she thought more on the subject of Ismark Kolyana. Her actions now were a bit absent as she bathed, lost in a deeper thought process and knowing she was just going in circles.

A gentle noise broke her mental journey, startling her a bit and making her hands splash against the water’s surface as she straightened up. Heart pounding in her ears now, she waited to hear the noise again to confirm. There was indeed a second, louder rap on the outside of the bathroom door. Assuming it was Acacius there to bother her or to tell her to hurry, Bahari entertained the idea.

“Who is it?” The woman called, moving slightly to be sitting up in the tub now as curiosity took her.

A muffled voice answered her, but it wasn’t the person she thought was outside the door.

“It’s Ismark.” He called out, waiting for her acknowledgement from the other side of the closed door.

Ismark was probably the last person Bahari was expecting, so to have his familiar voice break through while she was deep in thought about him gave her a bit of a start. What did he want, especially right now when she was in the bath? Her mind started to race, and so did the pounding in her chest.

“Is it okay if I open the door?” Ismark asked, again waiting to hear back from her.

Bahari panicked, raising her hands out of the water to smooth her wet hair to one side, trying to sit up and make herself look presentable. Did she need to look presentable? He probably wasn’t going to see her anyway.

“Yes, that’s fine.” the woman squeaked out, sitting up straight and looking toward the direction of the door. She was probably worrying for nothing, and he’d just as quickly leave her as he’d approached. She told herself to relax in her mind and held her breath for a moment.

Ismark cracked the bathroom door open slowly, trying to give Bahari ample time to object or ready herself. What she saw made her grin, shaking her head slightly. Ismark was standing there, one hand covering his eyes to maintain her modesty, the other holding a small bundle of cloth on a clothes hanger close to his body. His body language screamed ‘nervous’, and she assumed he had to feel similarly to how she did right now. Though she had to admit, his attempt to be a true gentleman was adorable.

“So…” He started shakily, extending his hand that wasn’t covering his face, showing her what he’d been carrying. “I know your clothes are dirty after your fight. I don’t think these will fit you very well, but I brought you a shirt and a pair of pants to wear. At least until your clothes are clean and dry.”

From memory, mixed with the awkward angle, Ismark began to try and hook the clothes hanger on the back of the door. It was awkward to watch from Bahari’s perspective, seeing him effectively reach around blindly from the other side of the door and hope he landed the hanger on the hook.

“They’re mine,” He added, trying to fill the space as he very obviously struggled with the task at hand. He was also struggling with his secondary task of keeping his eyes covered. “But hey, it’s better than nothing, right?”

Bahari fought the urge to comment on the better than nothing clothing thought, letting out a small laugh instead. “Ismark, let me help you.”

Leaning over the edge of the tub, Bahari reached a willowy arm to guide Ismark’s change of clothes finally to their spot on the hook. Glancing back at him, she thought she saw a glimpse of his cool gray eyes peeking through the cracks of his fingers. Her gaze immediately hit the floor, her pale cheeks flushing with color so bright it contended with the red scaling on her forehead. Ismark must have noticed, because he quickly backed out of the doorway and pulled the door closed behind him.

“I’m going to go now…” His voice was low, muffled once again by the wooden door. Bahari took note of how his feet didn’t move just yet.

“No, wait...” Bahari huffed, worried she’d given off the wrong impression. Why did she have to clarify that she wasn’t upset with him taking a peek at her naked? Oh, maybe she didn’t want to admit to herself that she didn’t mind and that maybe she wanted him to… Regardless of her complicated thought process, she wanted to make sure he knew she wasn’t upset.

“Ismark?” Her voice rings out a bit louder now, making sure he could hear her as she chewed on the inside of her lip.

After a moment’s hesitation, the bathroom door creaked open once again, and there was Ismark trying to cover his eyes once again with his hand. Bahari made no attempt to cover herself this time around. If he wanted to look, she would let him.

“Yes?” The man’s voice was soft and controlled; he sounded like he was fighting himself and his urge to turn tail and walk away. Not to mention the urge he was actively fighting by covering his eyes they both knew about.

Draping both her arms on either side of the tub, she let herself relax in body language only. If Ismark could see her, she was hoping he might take a hint just from that.

“Can I tell you something… stupid?” She asked, still trying to piece together just how she was going to say the thoughts running through her mind. There were too many to sort, so maybe if she spoke some into existence she’d have adequate room.

“Uh, sure…” Ismark nodded slowly, keeping his block for his gaze in place. She thought she saw him peek again, so he wasn’t being stealthy.

A long pause stayed in the room, Bahari weighing her actions. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him standing sheepishly in the doorway, and they both seemed to be waiting for something to be said.

"You know,” the yuan-ti started again after her pause, a new tone to her voice thanks to a small glint of confidence. “when we were standing in front of that creepy house again, I jokingly said to myself that if I didn't die in that house, and by the way, /I almost did die/…"

"Well, I'm glad you made it back, it sounded scary…" Ismark jumped in, a little eagerly it seemed. This made a smirk curl Bahari’s lips.

"It was. But not my point…” She couldn’t help but tease. Or maybe she was just beating around the bush.

“I told myself that…” Her words failed her now, her anxieties bubbling up and choking the confidence she had out like a flame.

Another pause hung in the air, and this time the tension was palpable. Bahari took a long look at the man she missed the gentle touch of along her hips in their dance, the man she wanted to kiss while they cooked together, the man she wanted nothing more than to be her dying wish just this morning. A throwaway comment was killing her from the inside out, and she didn’t know how to admit it to him or herself.

“This is stupid. Ismark,” Her red eyes rolled high, even if he couldn’t see them do so. But, he was almost surely looking at her now.

“Do you want to get in this tub with me?" Bahari all but blurted out, unable to find a way to put it more delicately than just coming out and saying it.

Ismark’s hand that was covering his sightline a moment ago moved instead to push his light blond hair out of his eyes. No doubt, he was trying to get a good look at Bahari, her naked frame on display for him now. His eyes followed along her body, following the line of deep red scales down from the bottom of her chin, between her breasts and past her belly button, only to have his destination obscured by the sudsy bathwater.

"I thought you'd never ask." He replied with a newfound confidence. He couldn’t hide his grin, even while biting down on his bottom lip as he stepped into the bathroom. He was fully focused on her as he shut the door behind him, and the tension building between them had both their heart’s racing. And there it was again, his soft and sad demeanor shifting into a look of joy as he walked over to the bathtub Bahari occupied.

“Sorry it took me so long.” Bahari teased, her eyes were on him now, laser focused and looking up through her lashes as he approached her.

“Please, the fact that you invited me in at all was worth the wait.” Ismark’s tone was gentle, but he meant exactly what he said. He’d waited, waited to see how any moves he made might have brought them closer. He’d played his cards right, from dancing to wine in the kitchen, and here they were.

Bahari wondered just how long something like this, something with her, had been on his mind. Did it rattle around his brain and occupy his mind after the night they all got drunk together? Did he want to act on impulse the very first time he’d seen her when the new group of strangers walked into Blood of the Vine? She could admit to herself now that Ismark was a handsome stranger, but when they first met in Barovia Village nothing of the sort was really on her mind. A new place, new people, and what she would soon realize to be horrors around every corner, the handsome Burgomaster of Barovia Village who looked lonely and drank too much got pushed out of her mind.

That hardly seemed to matter now. Here he was, and they were both fueled by adrenaline and a blooming desire they couldn’t satiate. Standing at the edge of the tub, Ismark brought a hand to Bahari’s cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing along the soft pale skin. Bahari all but melted at his gentle touch, longingly gazing up at him. His blond hair cascaded forward as he looked down at her, his thumb trailing over her full lips. She pressed a soft kiss as his digit passed, red snake eyes locked on his gray ones. She wouldn’t want to have missed the subtle reaction her teasing kiss made flash across his face.

“Bahari…” the young man sighed, unsure of what else to say. He turned to trying with actions instead, his hand moving to cup under her chin and tilt it up towards him as he leaned down to kiss her fully. Their lips finally met, and Bahari’s intent gaze was broken, eyes fluttering closed as she kissed him back. It was as if this kiss melted any worry she had away. Any worry about being in Barovia, any worry about dangers or threats, any worry about her future, all gone as she deepened the kiss between them.

Ismark’s hand held her face steady, keeping her right where he needed her as their kiss turned from sweet to needy. It was a quick change, one incited by the eventual parting of Bahari’s lips to grant his tongue access. With a subtle moan, she let his tongue explore her mouth, kissing a bit slovenly as her own forked tongue reciprocated and danced past his lips. With a soft hum, Ismark’s other hand moved to drag his fingers through the wet tangles of Bahari’s hair, an action that made a shiver travel down her spine.

There was no stopping them now, caught in a lustful kiss a few days too late. Bahari’s pounding heart was almost deafening her to her surroundings; this was all she’d wanted for the past day or so and it was finally happening. Breaking the kiss, Bahari kissed hungrily along the stubble at Ismark’s jawline instead, dragging her tongue along his throat. He wasn’t close enough. She needed him closer.

“I want you…” A murmur filled the space between them, falling from the woman’s lips as she tried desperately to nip at his ear. He wasn’t leaning down enough, but still her mouth found purchase on his jaw, dragging her pronounced fangs and teeth along his delicate flesh. It was his turn to feel that shiver, his hair standing on end over his whole body from the combined admission and new sensations of her mouth teasing him.

Bahari didn’t let up, knowing full well where they’d end up if she kept going. “Ismark, please.”

She didn’t need to beg, but the words just got away from her somewhere between the eagerness in her mind and the broken filter keeping words from flying out of her mouth. Ismark’s fingers tightened in her hair as she all but pleaded now, causing a small gasp to pull from her with the sudden sharp pinch of her scalp. A grin affixed on her features still buried and nuzzling at his throat, she took her hand and moved to find the hem of his shirt, trying to get underneath it. Ismark all but groaned, feeling the scratch of her sharpened nails as they dragged over the sensitive skin of his stomach. Her kisses and bites never stopped, trying to cover all her bases when it came to teasing him. After all, she liked his reactions.

“Bahari, fu–” Ismark moaned out and cut off his own dialogue, his head tipped back and the apples of his cheeks pink. Helping her out the best he could, his hands fumbled to remove his own shirt, tossing the light colored linen aside. Her mouth moved, finding new ground as she kissed along the warm skin of his exposed chest and stomach. With her mouth leaving kisses, her hands moved to the button of his trousers, taking a moment to reposition onto her knees still inside the bathtub.

While undoing the front of his pants, she looked up at him with better space between them to do so. She took a moment to admire the sight, surprised to see so much muscle definition on someone who seemingly had a sedentary lifestyle. He looked great, better even than she might have imagined. His skin a pale golden tone, it was flecked with sparse blond hair, congregating mostly on his chest and a trail leading from below his belly button lower. Bahari was desperate to see more of him, her hands taking longer than she wanted them to.

With belt and trousers undone, Ismark lulled his head to look back down at Bahari, his chest showcasing his heavy breath. Their eyes locked once again, and with a devious grin Bahari all but yanked his pants down, exposing her prize. Ismark let out a quiet gasp as his pants fell down to his ankles, his erection popping free and smacking against his stomach. Bahari’s eyes must have lit up, because Ismark couldn’t hold in a small chuckle.

“So you were peeking then?” Gesturing down to her bare chest and naked body still in the bath with her chin and raising a brow at the undeniable, Bahari giggled.

Ismark, with a blush of embarrassment, dragged a hand through his own blond locks. “How could I not,” he challenged. “You’re the most beautiful person to come through town since gods know when…”

It was Bahari’s turn to blush, unprepared for the flirting. Was the teasing something she would have to get used to? No matter, it seemed neither of them were particularly good at it or confident enough to try.

“It’s fine,” She grinned, a show of her pointed fangs pulling past her lips. “I like where it’s gotten us.”

Her hand now danced dangerously around his member, fingers lightly moving everywhere but where he wanted them to land. Her fingernails tickled across his skin, making his erection jump. She couldn’t hide her smitten grin.

“I like where it’s gotten you, that’s for sure.” He nodded, eyes watching her with a darkened hunger he couldn’t hide any longer. A hand came down to rest on the top of her head, fingers tangling in her damp white hair, and Bahari took this as her signal.

Her dainty hand finally wrapped around his cock, thin fingers indulging him as her grip tightened. This action resulted in a sharp breath being sucked between gritted teeth from Ismark, and his hand to move to twist into the long hair at the nape of her neck. Bahari let out a soft giggle, leaning in to flick her forked tongue along the tip, getting her first taste of him. Her arm, steadied on the lip of the tub, began to gently pump back forth, and for a few moments she teased him with long licks along his shaft, resulting in a whole body shudder from the man.

The noises Ismark made thrilled her further, adopting a deep need to elicit more sounds like this from him. A quick thought of wondering how long, if ever, Ismark had this done for him, but she pushed it from her mind. It was her turn to pamper him, to give him what he wanted and needed. Finally, her lips parted, and she stuck out her tongue fully, looking up at him while she used his cock to give her tongue a few wet slaps.

“Ahh, Bahari–” Ismark groaned, tugging at her hair and making her suck in a breath. Closing her lips around the tip of his cock, the yuan-ti woman hummed happily as his taste filled her senses. Lust-hooded eyes locked onto his face, she didn’t let up, taking more and more of his length into her mouth with each thrust of her head, a repetitive movement guided by Ismark’s hand fisted in her hair.

“Fuck, you look perfect…” Ismark nodded, keeping his head craned so he could watch Bahari at work. She nodded back with a hum of appreciation; she was just as grateful to have her mouth filled by him now. Her hands rested to grip at his hips, sharp fingernails digging in slightly as Ismark began to guide her a little more aggressively. Relaxing her jaw, Bahari let Ismark take over, letting him thrust his hips into her open mouth.

Finding a steady speed, Ismark’s breathing picked up, his chest and neck warming up to a soft pink tone. Bahari was happy to help him moan and loved hearing the sound more than she’d imagined. Pushing his cock further to the back of her throat and holding there, the tip of her nose buried in the blond tuft of hair growing above his cock. This action resulted in another shudder of the young man’s body, going weak in the knees momentarily. Bahari held there as long as she could without gagging, but her need for air made her pull back, panting and drooling as her spit hung in a connecting web from her lips to the tip of Ismark’s cock.

And she was grinning something triumphant. For a moment, Ismark was concerned about what he got himself into. This beautiful girl, a perfect stranger, ready to act on impulse and successfully make him act on impulse to join her… Should he be concerned? Now wasn’t the time to think about it, not with her greedily taking his cock in her mouth and only stopping to breathe. Seeing her now, using a hand to stroke him while licking any excess mess from around her full lips, Ismark had to bite down on his lip again just to function halfway normally.

“Gods, Bahari.” He exhaled, trying to get his breathing under control. “Let me get in that tub with you.”

Bahari nodded, pausing her work when Ismark untangled his hand from her hair, instead offering it to her to help her stand up in the water. Grasping his hand tight and using her other hand to push off from the side of the tub, the yuan-ti woman stood up now eye to eye with Ismark. After wiping her chin off on the length of her forearm, Ismark used their held hands to pull her closer to him for just a moment, kissing her deeply once more.

It wasn’t enough for either of them. They needed to be closer than that.

After breaking another hungry kiss, Bahari stepped forward in the bathtub so Ismark could step in himself. Maneuvering a bit, Ismark sat down in the warm bathwater. Bahari’s waist was at eye level for him, and his gaze was locked on every detail of the red iridescent scaling that followed the sight line of her chest and stomach. It continued down the inside of her thighs, which wasn’t something he expected. The stark comparison of bright white skin and red belly scales was beautiful, unlike anything he’d ever seen before. He could marvel at her all day.

“Do a spin for me, darling…” Ismark suggested, his hand on his erection under the water. Bahari, taking note of this and happy to oblige, took her time to spin in a circle between his feet, showcasing her lithe body fully naked for him. The entire time, she was grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. Ismark was truly enamored.

He was in awe of her, a slender body he’d held in their dance but never seen like this, on full display and just for him. The sight was even better than he’d imagined. Her markings alone were exquisite, but Bahari was also decorated in piercings and body jewelry. That was new for him, and it made him curious. The small gold barbells through her nipples he’d caught a glimpse of earlier, but the glint of gold between her thighs was new.

“Are you sure you’re not royalty, adorned like that?” He smirked, reaching out to grab her thighs and walk her closer to him.

Bahari couldn’t help her giggle. “No, handsome. I just like looking expensive.” Her fingers came to cup Ismark’s stubbled cheek as the space between them was closed.

“You look positively ravishing.” He noted, his turn to kiss her stomach and tease her. The action made her shiver with her wet skin now out from under the bathwater. Bahari had an idea where this was going, so she just stayed quiet and let Ismark explore her body.

His kisses drew further south, his larger nose dragging gently along her scales as he went. Bahari loved how his stubbled chin and cheek felt along her sensitive skin, making this lead up even more pleasurable. Grabbing hold of one of her calves, he hoisted it onto his knee for support as he spread her legs apart, giving himself an opening to dive in and get a taste. Bahari wasn’t expecting him to immediately pull her clit between his lips, making her gasp out and cuss under her breath. Her hands found their place to support her body, one holding the back of Ismark’s head, the other gripping his shoulder tight.

“Oh, Ismark–” Bahari moaned out, biting down on her lip to muffle her whimpers. Ismark was sucking on her clit and rolling it between his lips, and it felt too good to stay quiet about. Bahari remembered at that moment that there was a house full of people, so she probably needed to be quiet. Ismark was going to make that hard for her.

“You taste divine.” Ismark noted, taking a moment to give her positive feedback. All she could do was stroke his hair as a sign to keep going, as her heart was pounding in her ears again.

Her hand on his head pushed his face further into her heat the most she could without smothering him, keen on the idea of him touching her like this. His mouth felt amazing, his tongue playing with the gold jewelry pierced through the hood of her clit. It was a godsend to finally be touched; the way her clit ached for attention while she was happily giving him head almost hurt, but she was sure she’d get her dues.

And here she was, with the blond man’s face buried between her thighs, making her entire body tighten with the passes of his tongue, the rolling of his lips. Now her clit ached with the want for release, but Bahari would try to hold off a little while longer before melting instantly in the grasp of him. Still, the fact that she wanted to control it didn’t help her in any way. She still began to move her hips slightly, grinding gently against his eager mouth.

“Ismark, darling… oh fuck…” Bahari purred, her fingers twisting wildly in his hair. A hand of his moved to cup the small of her back and draw her even closer, and Bahari threw her head back in pleasure as Ismark’s pace changed. His tongue lapped almost violently, trying to elevate her even more as he went faster. Her breathing got more ragged, and she noticed she was getting ever closer to a climax.

Her hand on his shoulder let go, tapping a few times on his bare skin. “Gods, I need you.” She gasped out.

“Inside me…” She groaned, a broken sentence enough to convey what she wanted. She just hoped he understood. Her hand relaxing from Ismark’s hair, she let him get his fill of her taste before shimmying away slightly.

There he was, grinning up at her with a glistening chin, slick with her built up juices. Bahari had never seen something look so perfect on a man, his scruff wet and his smile wide. He would have brought her past the edge if she hadn’t tapped out so soon.

“C’mere, babygirl.” Ismark nodded, wanting the same thing she did. He sat waiting for her to figure out how to position herself, trusting her to find something comfortable for herself the best she could in the bathtub. It was a larger bathtub, and two people could definitely share it, but movement might be a bit difficult.

Bahari lowered herself carefully, straddling Ismark’s hips the best she could. She was facing him now, and she nuzzled her nose against his for a moment before stealing a gentle kiss. A brief pause, her lower half back in the bathwater, and she could feel Ismark’s cock between both their bodies. Reaching into the water, she gently grasped his member, running it along her folds briefly to tease them both. Her brows knit together with the sensation, and Ismark’s face looked about the same. With her hand, she guided him to her entrance, and lowering her hips she slowly felt the head push inside her and open her up for his length. Her hand came up from the water quickly, instead using both hands to grip the edge of the bathtub as she lowered herself completely onto him.

Simultaneously, the noise of Ismark moaning and Bahari hissing out her breath filled the bathroom. He felt so good inside of her, it was like he fit her like a glove. Sitting down on his cock fully like this made her feel a twinge inside, one equated with being completely full as her body got used to him taking up the space.

As Bahari began rolling her hips to the best of her ability, she kept him deep within her. The only movement was the grind of their bodies where they were now connected and the subtle waves this action was creating in the water. Soapy water sloshed from side to side of the tub, but Ismark didn’t seem to mind. Occasionally it escaped its confines of the bathtub, but that was a problem for later. Right now, he was preoccupied with the intense warmth surrounding his cock as Bahari kept it buried inside her.

Their moans, as quiet as they could keep them, filled the silence between sloshing water ambiance. Ismark buried his face against Bahari’s chest, and she tried to hide her noises as she muffled herself by putting her mouth by Ismark’s ear. They tried desperately to keep each other quiet, but they were failing. Ismark was worried someone might walk by and hear the commotion. Bahari was worried Acacius might come to actually yell at her about taking too long. But, none of that mattered. The only thing that truly mattered was the pure ecstasy their bodies were feeding each other.

“Ismark, you feel so fucking good.” Bahari panted in his ear between wanton moans, still grinding into him the best she could.

“Better than I dreamed.” He agreed, nodding against her breasts as his lips dragged across the exposed skin.

The pair moved like this until Bahari’s thighs burned from the awkward positioning. She didn’t want to stop, but the bathtub wasn’t giving them the most freedom they needed.

Ismark pulled Bahari’s face to his, kissing all along her cheeks and jaw and mumbled, “Let me get you a towel, sweetheart.”

Bahari nodded, pressing her sweaty forehead to his as she tried to catch her breath. Ismark leaned over to reach a towel for her so he could help her dry off.

“Can you stand up?” He asked, assuming her legs might be a bit tired.

“Yes, just help me?” She replied, before starting the moving process.

Ismark waited patiently as Bahari got in a better position to stand up, his cock freed from inside her for the moment. His chest panged with a longing to be back inside her right away, but he knew he was helping them both by wrapping her up in a towel. He then helped her step over the edge of the tub and get steady footing on the floor before getting himself up to dry off and drain the tub.

Bahari was curious what the plan was, but was glad to be out of the bathwater that had turned cold. They couldn’t leave this bathroom, not like this and not together. She watched and waited until Ismark gave her further instruction.

Coming up behind her, Ismark wrapped both his arms around her waist and walked them both in tandem towards the sink vanity.

“Look at you, Bahari.” He grinned, and she could see this in his reflection in the mirror. Ismark pecked quick kisses to the top of her head and temple as he positioned her in front of the mirror.

“Such a beautiful woman…” The man sighed out, still squeezing her around the middle and keeping his hips flush with her rear, even with towels in the way.

“Look at you, handsome. You look happy.” Bahari noted, and Ismark looked at his own reflection bashfully, like he was suddenly aware of the fact that he didn’t always look happy. A flash of complicated emotion moved across his face, and she took notice.

Bahari floundered slightly, worried she’d killed the mood in a moment of anxiety. “Happiness looks great on you.” She nodded, eyes on his in their reflection, reassuring him.

“And on you, dear.” He reaffirmed, his smile back after the moment passed. He bounced back the best he could in an effort to not kill their moments together. He admired how she recognized him slipping and still didn’t let it effect her negatively.

With a newfound spark, maybe fueled by his need to get any anxious thoughts out of his head, Ismark’s hands then slid up both of her arms, grabbing her wrists and moving them to the edge of the sink countertop. Bahari let him position her, following the silent directions given as she watched through the mirror. Ismark took both their towels and hung them back on the rack so they could use them later, but now they didn’t need them.

“Keep an eye on us, watch as I fuck you.” Ismark instructed, pointing to the mirror ahead of them both. His hand moved up Bahari’s back to push her forward and slowly bend her over the sink. Instinctually, her feet spread apart, giving Ismark all the room he needed. He was now focused on the image of her bare rear end, the stark white skin begging for his attention as he gave her cheek a gentle smack.

Bahari wasn’t expecting Ismark to lean into this whole control thing, but she was happy to let him. The smack on her rear resounded in the bathroom with a sharp tone, in unison with a gasp from Bahari that lead into a giggle. Catching sight of how hard she was grinning, how lustful her eyes looked in the mirror made Ismark almost melt on the spot. What kind of woman had he gotten hismelf caught up with?

“Ismark…” The woman purred out, and the way she said his name made his cock jump with need. To satiate this, his hand wrapped around his erection and gave it a few pulls as he moved behind her, closing any space between them.

“You want this, don’t you?” His own voice was low, dark and gravely as he looked down between their bodies. His eyelids felt heavy, drunk on this feeling of needing someone so desperately, so carnally. Yet he teased them both, using his hand to run the head of his cock along her soaked folds.

“I do… I need you, baby.” Bahari nodded quickly, unable to look anywhere but at Ismark’s face in the mirror. She was struggling to hold it together just with this teasing, fingers locked onto the edge of the sink.

The yuan-ti woman was desperate, and turning into a whimpering mess. The sensation of him moving back and forth and stimulating not only her needy clit but coming dangerously close to pushing the tip past her slick entrance had her breathing hitching and heavy already.

“Tell me what you need.” Ismark wasn’t letting up, happy to build this up for both of them until he heard her say it more convincingly. The both of them shuddered, the subtle connection not enough. Bahari’s moans were almost convincing enough for him to press further as she began to swivel her hips against him.

“I need you to fuck me, Ismark Kolyana.” Bahari moaned out, unable to keep her voice low. The admission was reminiscent of the hunger she felt deep in her core, a need she required attention over immediately. They were so close…

The sound of her begging for him was enough. She was unapologetically neccessitus, letting her heart take over instead of her mind, letting her mouth spill out all the things she thought without running it past a filter. If there was just one thing Ismark admired about Bahari, it was her matter of fact attitude. In this situation, he took that to mean she would always ask for what she wanted.

There were many things Ismark admired about Bahari, and if he tried to think about them in this moment, he might explode. The only thing he was focused on was finally pushing his length inside her, and the hiss he elicited from her as he did so. A gasping breath filled the space as her back arched for him, angling her hips to welcome him fully. Greedily, Ismark pushed in to the hilt, leaving Bahari full as her eyes fluttered closed.

“Bahari, fuck…” Ismark groaned, his hands gripping her hips and keeping her close. He wasn’t ready to move just yet, afraid doing so would result in things ending too quickly. Her walls clenched around him as she got used to him inside her, a shiver running through her body.

Red eyes opened again to check Ismark’s reflection in the mirror. What Bahari saw was heaven-like, a look a pure ecstasy on Ismark’s face as he steadied his breathing.

“Fuck me.” She pleaded, wiggling her hips back against him again. “Please Ismark. Please…”

Her whines made him comply, the beautiful woman he occupied really running the show. Gripping her hips tighter, Ismark found a steady pace as he finally began thrusting, his strokes short and deep and hitting Bahari’s limits.

Such a sensation only made her noises more obvious to everyone in the house, most likely. But she couldn’t help it, she coudln’t be quiet.. Not like this, not with days-worth of pent up lust and neediness. Her whimpers were fails at keeping their actions underwraps. It was taking all her power not to moan louder and louder for this man.

No matter, she sounded like music to Ismark’s lonely ears. It didn’t matter what sounds fell from her lips like a waterfall, the fact that he was hearing them at all, the fact that they were just for him… that was enough to wake this man’s sad heart from it’s slumber. Bahari was more attractive and more genuine and straightforward than any person he’d met in recent memory, if not ever. She was just so perfect, he couldn’t understand why she’d pick him but he was glad she did.

He was glad he took care of that dress for her, even if he didn’t totally guess correctly on that whole royalty thing. But, it made for a killer compliment, saying she looked and carried herself like royalty. He remembered the flustered blush that overtook her pale cheeks that day. He was glad she didn’t know about ballroom dancing so he could show her and pull her close. He was glad that sort of pick up line worked, even if it wasn’t meant to be one. He was glad they cooked and they chatted, and for a moment the world didn’t seem so bleak.

So why did she pick him? Why were they now dancing across that dangerous line of entanglement? He wasn’t anything, just some guy who happened to be the son of some dead guy. Some guy who couldn’t get his people to listen, some guy who was constantly being ridiculed, some guy who had to deal with overarching politics and ploys to keep things just as shitty as they ever were…

No, he had to shake those thoughts from his mind as quickly as they entered, or else he’d ruin things. No matter how they got here or what it meant, Ismark felt more alive than he’d felt in quite sometime. Bahari was great at making a man feel alive, if today had proven nothing else to him. Enough negative thoughts, he was happy and he was leaning into that feeling, no matter how reckless or fast it might be.

“Ismark, fu–” Bahari moaned, the sound alone enough to pull Ismark back to reality instead of staying in his anxious spiral. “You feel so good…”

“Mmm, you feel so good, sweetheart.” The man growled out his response, picking up his pace again as he took her from behind.

Bahari’s stomach pressed to the edge of the sink now, she tried her hardest to keep her gaze on Ismark’s face as he staked his claim of her. Her efforts were foiled as Ismark introduced something new. One hand reached around underneath her frame to cup her mound, his fingertips grazing her hard clit. This action resulted in Bahari’s hips bucking away from Ismark with a start, not fully separating them, but cementing for him just how sensitive she was. Warming up to him, they were back to business as planned as Ismark worked in tandem to keep his hips moving at a steady pace and his fingers now swirled over her clit in rougher circles.

“You’re going to make me cum…” She whined, her head dropping as her wet hair fell to obscure her vision. She didn’t recognize the voice coming from her, something so desperate and needy that was the polar opposite to her usual controlled demeanor. This man was pulling from her something no one had seen in a long time.

Those words, the admission that she was close, only made Ismark work harder. The room was filled with the noise of their dampened skin colliding together as he rutted into her, her pleasure as much his own as he felt her walls begin to tighten around him. It was hard to keep his composure, his act of being in control crumbling as he too approached his climax.

“Give it to me.” Ismark now panting, his blond hair damp with sweat that beaded across his forehead, all but demanded instead of coaxing, his fingers never letting up from her clit even if his hips waivered. His hand that wasn’t busy stimulating her roughly reached forward, sliding up the nape of her neck to knot in her white hair, yanking her head up to make sure she was still watching them in the mirror. With the help to keep her head up, Bahari made eye contact with Ismark and gave him that devious grin once again, before her cascading moans shaped her full lips once more.

“I want you to cum for me…” Ismark pleaded, sounding not much different than her as he felt his own tightness causing him to falter. “I want to watch your face as you cum on my cock, Bahari.”

At this point, Ismark took one last strike, pushing himself roughly inside her to his hilt until she was full up, girating his hips as he ground into her. Feeling him at her limits made her shudder, her walls clenching again as if warning him, soon.

“Cum, Bahari.” Ismark could feel she was dangerously close, her muscles were tight beneath him and her noises had changed from moans to quiet, needy whimpers. His brows knit together in pleasure, he looked in her eyes through the mirror and nodded. “Let go, for me.”

This was enough. An intense wave of pleasure washed over the yuan-ti woman, her knees buckling and thighs shaking as her walls pulsated around Ismark’s cock not moving and holding his place as she came. His hand in her hair kept her head steady as he watched her bite down on her lip hard and her eyes flutter with the overwhelming pleasure. The expression of sheer euphoria made her look even more stunning than she normally did, and Ismark was grateful to witness such a celestial event. Her orgasm rocking through her was enough to pull Ismark over the edge with her, and he let out a low groan as his cum spilled out inside her. The bathroom was filled with the sound of them panting, trying to catch their breath after such intensity. Ismark’s hand in Bahari’s hair moved to gently pull her up to him by the throat, his arms wrapping around her from behind now as he buried his face at the crook of her neck and shoulder. Their bond remained unbroken for a moment, both of them just enjoying the closeness and the quietness. Ismark couldn’t help but leave kisses at her exposed shoulder, grinning against her hot flesh. Bahari sighed happily, letting out a satisfied giggle. She was the first to break the silence after a minute or two.

“We should get cleaned up…” Her tone verged on doleful, unwanting to part and unwilling to go back to her friends just yet. But, she knew she had to. Ismark nodded against her shoulder, quiet and contemplative. He wished he had words, but he wasn’t sure it was the right time to say much of anything.

Quietly, Ismark helped Bahari get cleaned up, even going as far as to comb her hair out for her after he’d made it a tangled mess of strands. After a few minutes, Bahari and Ismark were wearing almost matching outfits. The clothes Ismark had loaned Bahari were unflattering on her, but she would make due. After all, the clothes she now wore smelled of his linens, and it was a pleasant reminder of the dance they’d shared and how close they were this evening.

“I don’t want to go just yet…” She frowned, eyes on him to see his reaction. Her voice was soft, a little hoarse, but mostly just sad.

After taking a look at herself in the mirror, Bahari turned to Ismark and reached for his hand, entangling their digits and squeezing.

“I don’t either, but we can’t live in this bathroom forever, Bahari.” Ismark’s free hand moved to tuck a few strands of loose hair behind her ear, gray eyes searching her face.

Complicated thoughts filled Bahari’s mind, about what this now meant, and what she really meant by admitting she didn’t want to leave. She knew her friends were planning on leaving Barovia Village the next day. She knew they had plenty of tasks and travel plans. She couldn’t stay here in Baroiva Village with Ismark, no matter how much her heart was telling her to change her plans and get more time with him. Her saddened eyes moved to the space between their feet on the floor, unsure of how to process anything.

Seeing her reaction, Ismark pulled her into his arms and wrapped her in them securely, sighing out softly. He didn’t want her to leave either, and he was going to cherish every second he had with her now. He was used to seeing people, new people brought here, leave Barovia Village and never come back time after countless time. He was afraid that should she walk out that door, he’d never see her again.

“Hey, look at me.” He muttered, pulling back slightly so they could speak. His arms didn’t move though, he was keen on keeping her there.

“I’ll be here. You know this is my home, and I have a duty as Burgomaster. But, that just means you always know where to find me. I’ll be here, waiting for you to walk back through that door, Bahari. No matter how long you’re gone.” Ismark nodded, feeling a tightness in his chest he was unfamiliar with.

Her svelte hand spread open palm on his chest, her eyes unable to look anywhere else but his before her brain decided she needed to kiss him. Ismark welcomed the deep kiss, kissing her back with full intent. He didn’t want this to end just as much as she didn’t.

Bahari nodded, confirming she understood what he was saying. “I’ll try not to go too far.”

Breaking away, Bahari somberly spoke. “They have to be done cleaning by now… And gods, /Acacius is going to kill me/.” In that moment she realized what she’d done, and her face pulled into a concerned expression.

“Acacius will be fine. He’s going to have to get over it.” Ismark chuckled, moving to pick up Bahari’s dirty clothing and the wet towels. “Go, be with your friends. I’ll be down in a few, and I’ll take care of your clothes.”

Bahari took one last look at him with a smile as she headed to the bathroom door. With her hand on the knob, she added, “Maybe we can cook together again tonight?”

“Maybe,” Ismark smiled at her suggestion, leaning in to press a kiss to Bahari’s scaled forehead. “I’ll find you when I’m ready to cook.”

And with that, Bahari in Ismark’s clothing descended the stairs to find her friend's warm atmosphere in the sitting room of the manor, Leonora doing tarokka readings, Miranda reading a book, and Acacius looking mildly annoyed. She joined them and chatted, but her mind was preoccupied, stuck on Ismark still. Maybe even more now than before.

[ninjakitty2988]

Chapter 15 you are my sunshine

Minor smut lots of fluff and anguish.

Kyojuro scoops you up off the engawa carefully so he doesn't wake you up. You're still sleeping peacefully now in his strong arms resting your head on his pectoral. Uzui whispers "awww look at sleeping beauty in your arms, you know she would have made an excellent wife Rengoku, I mean she's beautiful, kind and strong!" Kyojuro's cheeks are set aflame to the top of his ears! "She's a great cook. My mother taught her everything she knew and she's also been taught to sew! She's got a few hobbies. She's quite the talented lady".

 Tengan answers "So then, Rengoku, when you propose to her I want to be the best man. I make this wedding flashy. After all, I am the god of festivals!" Kyojuro clears his throat yet still blushes "slow down their friend one step at a time, she's precious to me I want to take it steady not rush into marriage! I don't want to frighten my sunflower off!" 

Uzui nods "well my buddy I will always be there if you need me with anything that goes for your lady too!" Kyojuro grins "you too my friend". They both go their separate ways, Uzui has gone back to his three wives, and Kyojuro is carrying your sleeping form to his sleeping quarters. Shinobu walks around the halls looking for you to check how you are recovering, she spots you both "ah I see she's asleep that's good, it means she's resting as she should be if you don't mind Rengoku just place her down on your bed for the meantime while I give her a check-up!" He asked if she could open his door and she grinned "no worries Rengoku I can open my door please as you can see you have your hands occupied".  

He walks in and gently places you down softly on the bed. Shinobu pulls up the leg of your hakama trousers to get access to your thigh, she checks you over. Kyojuro didn't look away like last time but he was hoping that your wound had healed up. Shinobi calmly smiles "she's able to attend rehabilitation training now, she's healed up nicely it won't leave much of a scar it won't be noticeable! Now Rengoku, it's not like your regular intense training! Just she needs to get her legs working again. How about just swinging the training sword in the morning and how about you running and she catches you in the afternoon then the opposite way you catch her!" 

He put his hand under his chin and hummed "all right Kocho if they are the conditions then I will abide by them". She pulls the leg of your hakama down and grins "enjoy your night Rengoku and take care of her". He turns around "wait how did you know we are?" She responded, "you don't need to be the love pillar to know! It's written all over your face!" He beams "I see, it's that obvious, well I yes it's all true we are in love with another, she sets my heart ablaze". She stands towards the door "well then Rengoku, and good evening." He nods "good evening kocho". She walks down the hall towards her office.

 Kyojuro shuts the door to his quarters and takes off his haroi and covers you just so you feel cold while you sleep a little while longer. He glanced at you lovingly and he decided to take a bath himself. He picked clean yukata and clean fundoshi soaps that smell masculine, which he wanted to use for the bath. He took his hinoki bucket and made his way down to the bath house in the HQ. Aoi already has been in to run the bath for the next person.

 He added some more heat to the bath! Kyojuro likes the water to be scolding only hot enough for himself to handle. He got undressed out of his uniform and tossed it aside in a pile, he will pick his dirty washing up later to be washed. He's fully exposed head to toe and squatted on a wooden stool to scrub himself clean with the soap that smells like bergamot and spices before he gets into the bath. He Crouched down to drop a bucket of hot water over the top of his head to wash the suds off his toned physique. He steps into the bathtub, the water still scalding hot, unleashing a sigh of comfort, as he leans back his shoulders in the water. Kyojuro isn't the one to spend so long in a bath long enough for his fingers and toes to not get wrinkly like you but he does spend a little while longer knowing you're ok in his bed dozing peacefully. 

After some time just enough for Kyojuro to feel like he's relaxed he gets out wrapping the towel around his hips, water running down his sternum, his skin feeling smooth and smelling pristine and masculine. He towel dried his golden blonde hair with the crimson tips of hair all over the place. He proceeds to dry his body off and wears a clean fundoshi. Pulling his arms through the plain red yukata wearing it loosely around his chest and wrapping the black thin obi belt around the hips neatly. He smiles feeling rejuvenated and ready for the evening. Kyojuro walked through the halls towards his sleeping quarters, only to find you curled wrapped around his haroi around your body making his heart swell with elation! 

He walks up towards you and strokes your soft hair, he kisses the top of your head causing you to stir. Your eyelids flutter open, you are very dazed and unsure how you managed to get into another room. The last thing you remember is you were reading a book on the engawa! You sit up quickly and take a look around the room and still can not make out where you are. You look down at your legs and notice a familiar flame haroi! Kyojuro softly says "my love, you're in my quarters, you fell asleep on the engawa and I brought you back here to sleep." You look at Kyojuro your eyes half open "oh that's how I got here" you pick up his haroi and sniff it he looks perplexed "what are you doing sunflower?" You smile sweetly "it smells like you!"

He chuckles and shifts towards you, you get a waft of his scent, you know he's been in the bath and he smells incredible. You are awake now and you quiz him "how was training with Tengan? Did all that extra energy burn off and how was your bath?" Kyojuro laughs "enthusiastic I see! Well training was great and yes I did "burn" all that energy off, well almost and yes my bath was simply great just what I needed after training". You stretch out your body raising your chest and yawn "you smell nice kyo I just want to inhale you all night long!" He chuckles and kisses your hand "thanks sunflower it's the soap".

He quizzes you "I need to ask you something. How is it you have the flame chronicles?" You respond "back when we were living in the Rengoku estate, I umm wrote all the books of the flame chronicles from word to word. Your father Shinjuro Rengoku kindly let me read the books to me and then as I finished the writing I bonded the pages I wrote out together, with glue and leather!" Kyojuro looks flabbergasted and wordless, his eyes wide open "you did all that on your own all of the flame chronicles, I am in awe of you so much I believe you are more talented than you understand, Your skills have no boundaries!" 

Your cheeks instantly flare up not making any eye contact with him, "thank you kyo, I- ummm I don't know what to s..say". He lifts your face with his fingers under your chin, you have no choice but to look at his flame orbs. You swallow nervously he leans in closer to your face till your nose touches his and pulls you on his lap straddling him with his large hands under your bum cheeks. He gives you a peck on your lips so softly. Kyojuro looks at you with his eyes filled with affection.

 You cup his cheek with your hand, he slightly leans his head in your hand, closing his eyes you smile and then he lifts his hand in yours, he opens his eyes, removes your hand from his face and leans in for another kiss but this time is intenser and extended, he's clutching his hands on your bum you moan scantily! You both break the kiss he gazes at you "have a little more confidence for yourself my little flame you are gifted with such potential and creativity". 

You nod shyly feeling the heat on your bum through your clothing. "Okay I will do my best and if you ever want to read the flame chronicles you're more than welcome to help yourself." He kisses your cheek "you have my thanks my sunflower, my father never seems to let go of the flame chronicles! I don't know how you managed it, you know how much he's changed since my mother died. He's in so much anguish, he must have a soft spot for you!" You know all too well how that feels the trauma of losing a loved family member! You never get over it, just learn to cope with it. Some days are ok, some are not great! Kyojuro must find it hard some days too. Senjuro was too young to even remember his mother, that must have broken his heart. He gets a lot of abuse from his father when you're not around. It makes you truly angry. Feeling guilty that you wanted to see them both again, you're going to make an effort to visit them both. You know Kyojuro would wish to come along. You truly have missed the Rengoku residence.

 You ponder in deep thought "I am taking a guess it's because of my past I am not sure? I am sorry, my flame". 

You remove yourself from his lap, and Kyojuro stands up and looks at you with deep concern and feeling a ping of guilt he thinks he's stepped over the mark."Are you ok? I didn't mean to upset you, please forgive me!" You hug Kyojuro to reassure him, "it's not your fault! I want you to share your bad hardships with me just as much as I do with you, I don't want you to bottle it up. Also, I want you to keep being you! Don't ever let anyone smite what makes you! Kyojuro, you are my favourite flame. I want to protect you just as much as you protect me! His heart ignites "oh my, such meaningful words come from your soul, I love you so much my little flame! I am glad we have each other. I am so honoured to call you mine!" Kyojuro hugs you tightly planting your face in his pectorals and kisses the top of your head. You let out a muffled "love you so much too kyo!"

 "Ah by the way Kocho came in when you were slumbering. She gave you the clear to start your rehabilitation training tomorrow but with me! She has given me strict instructions for me not to be so intense!" You look at him, and he beams! You smile sweetly "yes at last". He looks at you and winks " I see your heart is set ablaze!" You hide your face in his chest, he chuckles, your stomach has butterflies in it," Kyojuro certainly knows how to get you flustered! He quizzes you "are you hungry? I am sure I am famished, let's go get dinner!" He knots your fingers in yours and leads you to go and get an evening meal!

 Walking into the room where you sat down for breakfast still holding hands, Uzui, Mitsuri, Obanai who is sitting next to Mitsuri! Obanai is as sharp spoken as ever "Rengoku just in time for dinner." Kyojuro nods while sitting down next to Mitsuri "always on time for food". You laugh and sit down in the middle of Kyojuro and Uzui "it's true he loves his food!" Obanai looks at you sternly "ah I believe you are feeling well now! You nod "yes I believe so!" He nods "good!" 

Food is set out in a bowl of udon with seasonal vegetables cooked in traditional broth that contains mirin, soy sauce sugar and a pinch of salt along with seasoned beef with egg kamaboko and Negi. You look at the bowl of udon and you pick up your chopsticks, you take a bite of seasoned beef and eat quietly finding the food delicious, however, Kyojuro as usual with every bite he took shouted was tasty! Uzui looks at you, you just shrug your shoulders "I know what you're gonna say, yes I find it comforting with kyo shouting tasty."

 Uzui puts his hands on his chin grinning You knew by his face he was about to tease you or the both of you! "kyo huh! What other names do you call him Hot lips, darling, my love or is it flame daddy?" You look at Uzui with a stoic expression, Kyojuro coughs his cheeks burning at the last nickname! "Tengan my friend, she just calls me Kyo and my flame". Uzui queries his friend "So Rengoku I have heard you call her my little flame and sunflower and sunshine, would you call her flame Princess?!" You decide to get your own back feeling very flushed "Tengan that was not very flamboyant of you!" Uzui stops teasing you. Obanai snickers "Tengan, you asked for that one, I can see why Mitsuri is fond of you y/n You are a great individual. You nod "thanks Igruo". 

After eating dinner you feel nourished and you look at Kyojuro "now that was tasty!" He gives you a proud expression "yes indeed it was TASTY!" You just giggle lightly. It's quite late into the night, Obanai already left without a word, Mitsuri already tucked up in her futon, you stretch and stand up. "I think I am gonna go to bed, I got to be up in the morning." Uzui lifts his sake cup "yeah erm good night y/n..sorry sweetheart..I was just taunting my buddy". You grin "I know Kyojuro he got into a flustered mess. I've never seen him so red, if I did call him flame daddy I think I better run for it he..umm well he would have me for sure!" 

You begin to blush at the idea and swallow hard! Kyojuro sees it and keeps his thoughts to himself. You wished Uzui a good night and your beloved Kyojuro. He stands up a few seconds after "Tengan, I am off to sleep myself, see you tomorrow morning my friend". Uzui nods "ok buddy, hold on what would happen if she did call you flame daddy?" Kyojuro clears his throat "well she would have to find out, however, it's late and I gotta do my little flames rehabilitation training tomorrow, good night my friend". 

Kyojuro catches you up in the halls, he wraps his strong arms around your waist, leans his head towards you and whispers in your ear, the tips of his hair tickling your neck. "Little flame, would you like to stay in my sleeping quarters? We could snuggle up together." The thought of you enveloped his scent, his heat. Feeling his torso close to yours his legs tangled, with the touch of his hand bound around your hips caressing you making you bite the underneath of your lip. You nod "okay I will just get changed in my quarters" you struggle to move "kyo my flame can you remove your hands?" 

He glances towards you and lets go. "my apologies, my sunflower". You lightly giggle "it's ok".

You walk to your sleeping quarters and yawn. You start to undress down to your underwear, you find a yukata for sleeping in and wrap it around your body. You take the hair tie out of your hair letting it fall freely around the frame of your face. You close the door to your quarters and walk down the hall where Kyojuro is waiting for you. "Ah, ready for sleep, my sunflower?" You yawn "yes most definitely my dear kyo!" He walks towards you and hugs you "it seems you're tired come on let's go to bed". 

[delimeful]

Snapshot: Cleanse

snapshots: a new compilation of mini-fics taking place in the WIBAR universe! this one takes place a few days after Making Adjustments!

warnings: none! Whoops, All Fluff!

-

It was a few days after the Breakfast Ceasefire that Virgil decided enough was enough.

He needed a shower. Badly.

It didn’t matter that he was on an alien ship full of alien stuff, or that showering meant temporarily ditching the comfort of his hoodie, or even that two out of three aliens would probably happily see him dead at any opportunity.

He had picked up what felt like an entire football field’s worth of dirt, mud, and other muck while him and Patton were planet-hopping, and impromptu washcloth (read: a patch torn from the back of his shirt) cleaning sessions had only done so much. They only came across clean water every so often, anyhow. Most of it couldn’t be wasted on washing.

Patton had picked up on his discomfort back then— that or the smell— but the Ampen’s idea of ‘cleaning up’ was very similar to that of chinchillas’ back home on Earth: dust baths. That’s right. More dirt.

(Yes, he’d rolled around in the dirt with his friend. Contrary to popular interstellar belief, he wasn’t a monster.)

Still, it was time to come clean. Literally and metaphorically.

Patton had spent last night cuddled up to him, which meant that he had actually gotten a full eight hours of sleep (good!) and that Roman was probably sulking around (ungood!). The sense of clarity that came with not being quite so horrendously sleep deprived only made him more aware of how dirty he was. It felt like heresy to even touch any of the numerous well-sanitized surfaces in the ship.

“Patton,” he called, once the Ampen had started doing those little antennae twitches that meant he was half-awake. “Can you show me the wash room?”

The response was a little delayed, but eventually Patton startled into full wakefulness with a little chirp-peep that reminded him of a computer startup noise.

From there, he was led down the circular halls to a square room that sort of resembled a locker room shower area, complete with drainage grates in the floor. There was a ledge along one side of the room that led up to a windowbox-like protrusion, and Virgil could see from here that it was full of soft, beige dirt.

Patton paused, visibly turning his head from Virgil to the washbox, as though measuring things out in his mind.

“That’s probably too small for you, huh?”

Virgil stopped him before he could start making plans for a human-sized sandbox. “Uh, actually, Pat, I need water to wash.”

“Oh!” Patton exclaimed, more surprised than disconcerted. “Well, water we doing over here then?”

Virgil couldn’t hide a smile, and Patton crinkle-smiled back at him before waving him over to the opposite end of the room. He pointed up, where there were little circular discs with a grid of tiny holes set into the wall. “Here you go! Roman uses these to help with his slough, or when he gets particularly rough and tumble down on planetside!”

… Great. Odds were borrowing his shower was probably going to make Roman even more homicidal towards him. Virgil decided to worry about that later. For now, he was faced with the biggest challenge of them all: figuring out how a friend’s shower knobs worked.

Surprisingly, it seemed like the panel set into the wall below each disc worked similarly to the other touchscreens he’d seen set into the control room of the ship. Unsurprisingly, they were all labeled with the written form of Common, which meant he had about zero chance of figuring it out on his own.

Patton noticed his blank stare and patted at his knee, and Virgil squatted down easily so the undersized alien could clamber onto his shoulder. He rose up, and Patton’s little claws scrambled for purchase for a moment before he caught his balance, Virgil tense with preparation to twist and catch him if he fell.

“This little icon has the symbol for on, and this is how you get it hot or cold,” he chirped, leaning forwards to point at the screen for emphasis. Virgil obligingly shifted closer, trying to commit the guidance to memory. “You’re a little squisher than Roman, so you should probably change the pressure, too.”

Once he’d shuffled around so he was sure neither of them were about to get slammed by a jet of water, he tapped the power button.

A three-note chime played as a sort of countdown, and water shot out of the disc, at what was probably the appropriate pressure to powerwash muck from under tightly-packed scales. Virgil pushed the slider down until he could put his hand under without feeling any sting from the water’s impact. Then, he cranked the temperature up until it was just short of scalding.

Patton eyed the steam curling up into the air with a concerned fluff to his feathers, but didn’t protest after seeing the small, delighted grin that Virgil made as he held his hand under.

No, this wasn’t dunking his head in cold streams, or dipping his arm in a lukewarm puddle, or the humiliating icy hose downs in captivity. This was warm water. He’d never take it for granted again.

He shrugged out of his hoodie as he walked over to the entrance. “Does this… lock?”

“Any door on the ship can be sealed,” Patton replied, and bonked his head to Virgil’s sympathetically at the shudder that information sent through him. “Nobody’s going to lock anything without your permission, though, okay?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, knowing he sounded less than convinced. “Can you guard the door, still? Just in case,” he added in English, one of the phrases he’d used a lot while they were on the run.

Patton gave him a sad look, more than aware how unsafe he still felt, but nodded firmly and dropped carefully down to the floor, taking up position just outside the door like a tiny sentry. Virgil draped his hoodie over him, and then-- checking that the others weren’t nearby to witness and freak out about it-- he gave him the world’s smallest noogie, ruffling the feathers atop his head with a knuckle.

Having preemptively twitched his antennae out of the way, Patton made one of those bird-like laughs at him, batting his hand away. “Go clean! And make sure you wash out for slippery floors!”

Virgil snorted, and carefully sealed the door behind him, trying not to think about the feeling of being stuck in a tiny square room again. He shook his head, dragging his thoughts back on track.

He had access to a warm shower, his first in literal months (...years?). He was going to stay under that spout until every bit of dirt washed down the drain.

---

Roman was midway through a session of storywriting when he heard Patton’s bright voice coming down the hall, passing by his room and chattering all the while.

His ears flicked back automatically to check in, and he frowned when he realized that he couldn’t hear Logan’s arms clicking alongside the Ampen. No, apart from Patton’s tiny tapping footsteps, there was nothing. Patton had to be talking to the Human, then, since he was the only one who ghosted around the ship silently enough to make Roman feel stalked at every corner.

Well. He’d grown tired of watching his characters make a rather vexing detour from his carefully-plotted main storyline anyhow, and he was loath to leave his smallest friend alone with a Human, regardless of how docile that Human pretended to be.

After a brief cleanup of his writing instruments, he was sweeping down the corridor to the commons after them.

Logan was already in the room when he arrived, which was surprising; even Roman had picked up on the ludicrous lengths the Human went to avoid the Ulgorian, as though Logan of all people was someone to be scared of. The nerd’s poison blood was the most “threatening” thing about him, and the Human had already shown how easily he could shake that off.

Patton was leading the Human by one hand, their size disparity as jarring and terrifying as ever. And the Human…

Roman turned his head to the side to study the scene more intently, and that in itself was strange.

Normally, Virgil was almost preternaturally aware of when he was being watched, according to Logan. It was obvious when he knew: the Human went tense and rigid, practically poised to pounce at any moment.

But now, he was trailing after Patton with a relaxed slope to his shoulders, his steps almost languid. He all but collapsed on the fluffy cushion Patton gestured to, eyes gliding shut as the Ampen climbed up after him.

Roman took a few steps into the room, and the Human cracked one eye open-- not entirely out of it, then. The mild suspicion he was regarded with was almost reassuring.

Upon closer inspection, there were physical changes, too. The human had gone from pale, almost grey-toned to having a pinkish tint to his skin. The grey-brown still clung to the hooded garment he’d draped himself in, creating an even more jarring contrast. Dirt, then? It would certainly explain the smudges he left everywhere he touched much better than some strange Human Residue.

… He wasn’t crossing Human Residue off the list of possibilities, though.

Most striking of all was his head. He had originally stalked around with a matted mess of fur, glinting oily in the light where it wasn’t dull with dirt. Now, the fur was clean and stuck out in little fluffy tufts, creating a much less menacing look overall.

Patton apparently agreed, because he’d scampered up to one shoulder and immediately buried his tiny hands into that fluff. Roman and Logan both startled, exchanging an alarmed-exasperated-fearful look, one that had become exceedingly more common after Patton came home with his new Human cellmate.

Surprisingly, all Virgil did was go even more boneless on the cushion, turning his head to better meet Patton’s touch. Patton closed his eyes happily, apparently completely fine with petting one of the most feared creatures in the galaxy.

That wasn’t surprising at all, actually.

What was surprising was the Human’s apparent tolerance for it.

“I wasn’t aware Humans enjoyed tactile ministrations,” Logan said, tapping his wristplates curiously. “Is Virgil alright?”

The Human in question turned slightly to glance at them, eyes still half-lidded. It was probably the least threatening body language Roman had seen from him since… well, ever. “Mm?”

“You’re just relaxing, aren’t you kiddo?” Patton combed through that mess of fluff some more and Virgil lost what little tension he’d regained. “Virgil spent a lot of time on guard while we were on the run planetside. He deserves all the time in the world to recuperate… and all the head scritches!”

Roman’s tail swished exasperatedly, but even he really couldn’t come up with a reason to begrudge the Human for this, not when Patton was so clearly enjoying having someone else onboard to preen. Even if that someone was a Deathworlder.

He moved to settle onto his own cushion under the guise of supervising, though for once he thought the Human might actually fall asleep in front of him.

And if he was perhaps just slightly curious about what exactly a fluffy Human felt like? Well, that was nobody’s business but his own.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Not As Easy As It Looks

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Will Solace, Apollo, Austin Lake, Kayla Knowles

It was just a morning shower. How hard could it be?

Day nine of TOApril organised by @ferodactyl, “Bath Time With a Twist”.   I know in canon Apollo implies that he mastered morning ablutions without any difficulty at all, but that's the boring explanation, so here's the fun one.

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One of the less pleasant tasks that came with caring for patients in the infirmary was helping the injured bathe. It was awkward, occasionally mortifying depending on exactly how little autonomy they had, and generally a task all involved parties wanted over as soon as feasibly possible.  As the head of the infirmary, it was a position Will had found himself in many times, and no doubt would continue to find himself in several times in the future, too.  Hygiene was, of course, paramount to healing, no matter how much offended campers (often but not exclusively Ares) spat at him when he announced that it was bath time.

Will would much rather be wrestling another injured Ares camper threatening to gut him into the infirmary bath than deal with his current, awkward, situation.  Kayla and Austin had abandoned him to his fate, citing that it only needed one person and as the most experienced (and head counsellor, which came with more soul-destroying responsibilities than perks, sometimes), Will was clearly the best-suited to it.

Apollo, still looking rather a state and certainly nothing like the confident dad Will remembered, was hovering at the edge of the room, clutching a towel tightly and eyeing the shower with something that looked a lot like embarrassment.  Will just hoped his own mortification wasn’t showing on his face.  It hadn’t occurred to him that Apollo might not know how to use basic mortal necessities (thankfully he was smart and picked up how to use the toilet without too much fuss), although as gods presumably didn’t get dirty unless they chose to – and then no doubt just snapped their fingers to get clean again – it made sense.

That didn’t make it any less awkward to be standing in the bathroom with his currently mortal dad, Apollo stripped down to nothing except a towel he seemed to be trying to hide as much of his body as possible with – he did seem particularly traumatised at the idea he had obtained flab in place of an idealistic yet impossibly toned godly abdomen, and Will had decided to let him have that because he was clearly using that to distract himself from everything else wrong with his body – as he explained the controls on the shower.

It wasn’t a complicated shower.  One switch controlled temperature, the other controlled water pressure.  Apollo seemed to be understanding the explanations – Will suspected he was just as eager for the awkwardness of having to be taught basic things like this to be over – so with one reminder to use the washcloth to get everywhere, Apollo, I mean it and to wash his hair – he retreated from the room and let his dad get on with it.

The rush of running water started almost as soon as Will closed the door, staring down his unapologetic younger siblings in a there will be payback for dumping that on me way.  Kayla and Austin’s unconcerned shrugs – they knew he wouldn’t actually get them back for it, dammit – were interrupted by a yelp of pain.

Will whirled around and knocked on the door in a panic, mind whirling with all the things that could have gone wrong in ten seconds and coming up blank.  He hadn’t heard him fall.  “Apollo?”

“The water’s hot!” came the rather pathetic-sounding cry.  “Why is it hot?”

Oh gods.  Will rested his forehead against the door in despair.  “Did you turn the temperature up?”  He’d left it on warm rather than scalding for that exact reason.

“Yes, but- I’m the god of the sun!  Water doesn’t get as hot as the sun!”

The protests sounded ridiculous but all Will could think of was that Apollo was going to hurt himself if he kept trying to treat his body like his godly one, which came with a fresh wave of crushing realisation that his dad’s body was very much mortal right then.

He sighed.  “Turn it back to where it was,” he instructed.  “Mortal bodies don’t have the same level of heat tolerance you’re used to.”

The only response he got to that was the sound of running water, and he sighed.  “Don’t forget to wash,” he repeated, falling back on his healer defaults because what else did he have?  “We’ll get some clothes ready for you.”

There was no way Apollo was getting back into the bloodied and torn clothes he’d arrived in.

“Leave that to us!” Kayla chirped when Will stepped back from the door.

“We probably shouldn’t all leave,” Austin added, and before Will could protest at them leaving him with the responsibility of monitoring Apollo (even though he knew he would have done it anyway), his two siblings had torn out of the cabin, presumably in the direction of the camp stores.

“Argh!”

Will jumped and knocked on the door again.  “Apollo?” How was a shower so dangerous?

“My eyes sting!” his dad wailed.  Oh no. Will knew where that was going.  “I’m blind!”

Maybe Will should have done a better job at explaining how to use shampoo.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he called.  “Finish washing your hair then you can treat it.”

“Ow!”

Please, Will thought. Please do not make me go in there and do it for you.

“I hate this,” Apollo was complaining.  “When I get my godhood back I’ll-”

What he was going to do about showers and shampoo in eyes when he was a god again, Will didn’t get to find out.  There was a loud crash, another cry of pain, and, heart in mouth, Will shoved the door open to see his dad in a heap on the shower tray.

“Apollo!” he hurried over, ignoring the water still falling, and knelt next to the fallen figure. Apollo groaned and tried to sit up, but Will put a hand on his shoulder to keep him still.  “Let me check you’re not hurt first,” he insisted, his other hand coming up to cradle wet and shampoo-drenched hair as he felt for any signs of injury. “Falling in the shower can cause, uh, injuries.”  He refrained from going into details at the last moment, realising that Apollo probably wouldn’t want to hear it.

His dad’s eyes were still closed, with the tell-tale tracks of tears failing to completely mingle with the rest of the water in his face, but he still grumbled malcontentedly as Will hummed a simple tune, clearing up the bruises before they could form. Thankfully, there was nothing worse from the tumble.

“This sucks,” Apollo complained.

Will didn’t disagree, but, “welcome to mortality.”  He helped Apollo sit up.  “As I’m already here,” and soaked, “I’ll sort out your hair and eyes for you.”

Apollo pouted but didn’t argue as Will unhooked the shower head and rinsed out the suds from brown curls. The water that dripped out the other side was murky, leaving Will to wonder what, exactly, he’d been through before arriving at camp, and he ended up employing more shampoo before the water ran clear.

Rinsing Apollo’s eyes was more of a chore, mostly because Apollo hated the cool water and definitely didn’t want to open his stinging eyes so they could be “assaulted” further.  Will suspected he also just hated being mortal and having to rely on someone else.

“All done,” he said when he was finally satisfied Apollo’s eyes were shampoo-free.  “Dry off and brush your hair.  Kayla and Austin will be back soon with clothes.”

He grabbed his own towel and did his best to get rid of the water on his own skin before traipsing out of the room to change into something dry.

There was no sympathy from his siblings when they returned in time to see him pulling on a fresh tee, hair straggly from its unexpected second wash.  Will firmly pointed them towards the shower with their load of new clothes for Apollo and returned his own attention to drying his hair off properly.

Austin promoted himself to favourite sibling by not returning immediately after depositing the clothing, but instead clearly taking the time to make sure Apollo finished all the other morning ablutions – evidenced by Apollo’s grumblings about deodorant when he finally emerged.  There was no trace of the disaster that had been shampoo in his eyes, and from how neatly Apollo’s brown curls seemed to fall around his face, Will had to wonder who, exactly, had been the one to wield the brush.

He didn’t ask, instead setting his own brush aside – his hair felt dry enough that it shouldn’t draw the attention of most of the campers, especially as the sun would finish the job pretty quickly – and joining the other three, finally ready to face the morning (and Harley’s Three Legged Death Race).

[ashintheairlikesnow]

🛁 for Jameson, 🎬 for Jake, ☀️ for Chris and 🤝 for Antoni

🛁 - A nice, relaxing bath

The water is so hot he can feel his skin slowly scalding as he soaks, sweat breaking out on his forehead and trickling down the back of his neck. Jameson breathes out, sinking down until the water nearly touches his chin.

His knees throb, pulsing pain along with his heartbeat, bent no matter what he does. He has to shift to turn them to the side to keep them beneath the water. When he does that, his back aches right up his spine.

He stole the earpod headphones from the big guy's little brother and took his ipod, too. He has to listen to Chris's shitty music, but... it's not so bad, maybe.

The voices layer tastes on his tongue and Jameson closes his eyes, focusing on the flavors of sound to distract himself from the pain.

Weirdly, though, the crap musical soundtracks break, for a second, and a song plays that catches Jameson's breath in his throat. It starts with a guitar, and then another, notes played with a slow rhythm, only then breaking for drums and a voice:

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair... warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air...

He can't breathe.

His hands curl into fists beneath the water, but his eyes fly wide open, staring up at the light until it burns his vision to black.

The music keeps playing.

And still those voices are calling from far away, wake you up in the middle of the night just to hear them say...

Nanda used to sing him to sleep, sometimes, when the pain was so bad he couldn't fall asleep on his own.

The memory of Nanda's low voice brings to Jameson's tongue the familiar flavors of vanilla custard and blood.

Tears run out of the corners of his ears, nearly as hot as the water he soaks in.

-

🎬 - An uninterrupted movie night

Antoni hums as the credits begin to roll. Kauri is somewhere else - he doesn't like movies much, even now, so long after they stopped being part of Owen's control - so tonight it's just he and Jake on the couch. "I think it was a good film," Antoni says.

He waits, but there's no answer.

He turns to look and sees Jake asleep next to him, leaning his head on his hand, dozed off at some point.

Antoni stifles a laugh and shakes his head. "You are getting old, Jake Stanton."

He picks up the blanket over his own lap and arranges it on Jake.

-

☀️ - A nice day outside

The sun shines warm where Chris lays in the grass. When he turns his head, he can see a ladybug crawling along a single blade of grass, a bright red spot against the green.

"Do you intend to come back inside at all today?" Laken asks, bending over him, briefly blocking the light. Their hair falls black and shining on one side, hands pressed over their knees to steady themself.

He smiles, closing his eyes. "No. It, it, it's nice here today."

"This is California," Laken points out, tucking their hair behind their ear. The sun warms their skin, builds heat under the black of their loosely billowing tank top, a hint of their binder showing beneath. "It's usually pretty nice here."

"Just a, a, a little longer," Chris breathes. "A little longer in the the the sun."

"Hm. Fair enough. Well." Something lands with a thump on his stomach and Chris jumps a little, his hands jerking to find a plastic bottle. When he looks at Laken, they grin. "At least put sunscreen on, white boy. You'll burn in twenty minutes or less and turn into one big freckle. I've seen it happen."

"You, you like my freckles."

"I like them when they are individual freckles, yes. Put your sunscreen on."

-

🤝 - Some help performing a basic task

Jake bumps Antoni out of the way and buries his hands into the soapy water. "Nope. You cooked breakfast, I'm cleaning."

"You two are not letting me do anything!" Antoni protests, half-heartedly, leaning his back against the counter and crossing his arms. It's just the three of them here today, and so Antoni wears a t-shirt, the scars on his arms bared to the air. They itch, when he thinks about it. Mostly he doesn't.

"Damn straight. It's your birthday. You don't have to do shit on your birthday."

"It is not my birthday," Antoni points out.

Jake turns to look at him, gaze softening. "It's the anniversary of the day you came to Nat's house."

Antoni licks at his lips, and then looks away, nodding, smiling towards the ground. "This is my birthday, for you?"

"If you're okay with that-"

"I am." Antoni inhales, slowly. "Happy birthday to me. Birthday dinner tonight?"

"Sure. Where d'you want to go?"

"You and Kauri and I. I want to eat at Kalinka."

"Sounds good. It's a date." Jake kisses him swiftly on the cheek, and Antoni doesn't stop him.