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affableramen · 1 month ago

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yandere genshin men trying to make things right between you

angst, mildly dark themes ayato, neuvillette, pantalone, capitano, dottore, alhaitham

note: trying a new genre.

Neuvillette

Yandere Neuvillette kept forcing you into marriage after your relationship just got established. You asked him to give you some time to think over such radical and responsible change in life, but he was adamant to your pleads. He wanted everything here and now proven officially on the papers. You spent some nights crying because to think that such gentleman-like and solitary person like Neuvillette would force you into marital relationship was eerie. The desire to possess you officially seemed to blind him completely and he went from a loving gentleman to an almost insanely addicted man who did not accept a refusal.

It was your break-time at work when Neuvillette suddenly came up to you. It was odd at first - the judge putting away his duties to meet you seemed almost unbelievable, but remembering how assertive he was in the relationship with you it might have been close to the reality.

“Can I have a moment of your time, love?” He asked you, his hand not reaching to touch you but his gaze was heavy on your face.

“Of course.”

Not longer after the two of you were sitting in the cafeteria - a curious choice for a private conversation. Although you did not deny you seemed much more comfortable in a public place rather than face-to-face with him.

“About our marriage…” Neuvillette started, his fingers grazing over his glass of water.

“You already know my opinion”, you answered with no emotion. The time to play nice unfortunately came to an end.

But the next response from Neuvillette kind of gave you goosebumps:

“If I was too harsh on you, I beg of you to forgive me. I have a habit of grasping something dear to me too tightly, and I’m afraid that I hurt you more than I could possibly imagine”, he took a pause for a breath and gulped a sip of his crystal clear water. “I genuinely need to know whether or not you still harbour any pleasant feeling towards me?”

“What are you saying? Of course I do, Neuvillette—I admit you were unacceptably rough on me the past few weeks, but it would make me a poor lover if it were to stop me from harbouring affection to you.”

The judge sighed in relief, and then his expression became serious again.

“I would love nothing more than for us to marry, but I realise the circumstances of pushing you too much. Tell me, dear, if you no longer want to proceed in intimate acquiantance with me.”

You shook your head - seems like he was not hearing you. You then took his hand in yours and spelled it again, frankly:

“No, I want to be with you, wholeheartedly. And the marriage proposal, I shall accept it too.”

Pantalone

When Pantalone kidnapped you for no specific reason, days turned to weeks. You almost forgot about the existence of sunlight as he kept you there like a pretty little porcelain doll for his own amusement—or whatever his nasty reasons might have been.

The last time you tried to escape his gloomy, mysterious castle-like home, you were severely punished for your “bad behaviour”. Blood dripped down from your chin as you were sitting on the floor of a dark hollow room, chained and bruised by his henchmen. Perhaps he considered it too tacky to touch you with his own hands.

And then he entered. You didn't even want to look at his unapproachable, icy-cold eyes, and simply turned away, your eyes shut and hidden from him.

“How rough you look”, he said with his usual tone which was cold, but at the same time smooth like butter.

You were dehydrated and hungry, that’s for sure. You wanted nothing more than a warm fuzzy blanket and sweet tea, and forget this nightmare forever.

“When was the last time you had a proper meal?” He asked. He knew you never ate his food because you’d consider yourself indebted to him. And you did not want to take anything from this man.

Your face went deadly pale and bewildered when Pantalone dropped on his knees before you and started freeing you from your shackles. His hands were shaking wildly, you could witness how poorly he mastered the lockers due to his stress.

Yet without a single doubt, with no longer time to lose he wrapped his arms around your waist to carry you. His clothes were a little stained with the snow, and a bit of freezing touch made you shiver.

“I will never do this to you anymore. Forgive me. Please, forgive me.” His words that used to be spoken as an order now were slipped from his lips as a request.

You were laid in the warmth of the sheets of your own home. The familiar surroundings brought you joy and comfort you never knew you’d forgotten so easily.

“My butler is cooking a dinner for you in your kitchen.”

He watched the whole time you were eating, guarding you and seeing how desperately you were filling your stomach up. When you finished eating, there was one loud slap—against Pantalone’s face, by your hand. In a normal situation, he would be so angry and furious that the earth would shake of his abhor. But now he was simply taking it.

"I know. I should never have treated you like this. I ignored your wishes and violated your privacy. I’ve done the worst crime to you—I took your freedom”, he touched the red mark blooming on his cheek from your unexpected punishment. “I wanted to obtain you so much that I ended up hurting you instead.”

Ayato

He was rich to his fingertips. In his world, the only thing he could not have, but wanted to, was you. You found yourself working as his secretary, aesthetically pleasing and always efficient. But Ayato was ruthless; he could never be satisfied, he was always unhappy. The requirements to you were growing day by day, and keeping up the standards seemed an impossible task. His moods were changing like a thunderstorm.

It was a regular day when you were performing your duties that you felt someone’s presence behind your back. Ayato was not exactly above lurking so he made his presence known after you turned to face him. He did not expect you to turn so rapidly and ended up with his breath tickling against your face.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I have been too demanding and controlling. My actions driven by raw possessiveness inflicted undesirable effect upon you”, Ayato’s words died away, though the expression on his face became even more grim and grave. “You do not deserve such treatment, any of it.”

You nearly dropped your working papers as you stared at him. Was this man really sincere? How long has he been overthinking about your relationship? It took you just a few seconds to gather your composure and strike him with an indifferent glare.

“It’s always so easy and costs no trouble for you, rich people. You just take what you want without considering either the outcome or other people’s feelings. You see people as things, belongings in your possession, and you never have enough.”

At that, Ayato became even more tense, his expression that was mainly seen by the most of people as sweet and gentle, now was an embodiment of darkness. Nevertheless he nodded to you.

“What should I do for you to forgive me? I’m not going to lie and say that I did not think about how harmful my attitude might have been to you for the past month. What think you? Do I even stand a chance?”

“Fat chance”, you chuckled under your breath. The laugh was almost too bitter rather than sarcastic.

Ayato took your hands in his, his black gloved thumbs rubbing against your skin slightly.

“You’re like a poison to me. A very addicting one. And the more I see you work for me, the more I want to have you by my side. Not just at a formal event…” he bit his pale pink lip for a moment. “I’m starting to feel as if I’d like to see you out of work circumstance, and the thoughts of such impropriety are enough to drive me utterly insane.”

You reciprocated the light squeeze that came from his hands, however yours was less obsessive and more gentle.

“It is a very dangerous thought, Ayato.”

“Oh, I can be a very dangerous man. For you, that is.”

Capitano

You were walking in Capitano’s garden, feeling yourself like a beautiful bird in a golden cage, but in fact you were a princess in a beast’s castle. Once you saw his real face, you kept having nightmares about his skin rotting appearance. This man was scaring you to the bone, and every time you met him, although not very often, you felt how demanding and heavy the gaze of his icy blue eyes was.

You did not see him often, but once a while Capitano requested (no, ordered!) a private dinner with you. The rooms were dimly lit, his loyal butler making preparations to the highest standards as usual, and you - wearing the most luxurious of dresses you’d only be able to peek at in the past. But your face was the odd one as it beared no smile on it. You were gravely terrified by this man who had claimed you as his. And even though you slept in separate rooms, you could not brush the feeling as if he owned you; well, he kind of did, since you dwelt in his mansion.

Per usual, you were having a dinner with him at about eight in the evening when Capitano finally spoke. His tone was filled with assertiveness and power, yet the way he was eating, the movements of his hands were elegant enough to remind you of an excellently-educated prince.

“Y/N, I need to speak to you.”

You shivered when you heard him, and you let go of the fork. The jingling sound spread across the room which put you even in an unnecessarily bigger predicament.

“Yes, sir?”

Capitano hummed - he put his utensils away and looked as if he was carefully choosing his words which was not a habit of his. This Harbinger often talked exactly what he thought and was known for his bluntness. Capitano never beat around the bush and was always straight to the point, and this was one of the personality traits of his that made you feel conflicted. It was both terrifying and worth of respect.

“I want you to stop being scared of me. I want you to see that there is more of me than a horriffic, ugly old beast.”

You gasped: did he just used those unflattering words to himself? It felt so odd and so frustrating.

“What feelings do you want me to harbour for you, given our unusual circumstances?”

There was a long pause before Capitano made a sip of his red wine and suggested the following:

“Affection is too much, but could you at least try to be friendly with me? Don’t you see—can’t you see how hard I’m trying to make your life with me less unbearable?”

Affection… friendliness… is that what he really needs from you?—you think.

“I’m a prisoner here, I cannot imagine how I am supposed to show any warm feelings towards you. It would be fake and stupid.”

“Then make them not fake and stupid.” Capitano raised from the table and stormed out of the dining room, leaving you alone in the dim light of candles.

Dottore

You woke up on the plain lab bed, still restrained but this time your pain was drastically diminished. When you opened your eyes the lights did not cut your sight right away and you realised that the room was only dimly lit. You sighed in relief - perhaps he went on a break and you had a few moments of rest from his constant analysis and experiments upon your body.

There were a few tattoos on your hands but too small to even understand their meanings. Perhaps it was something from Zandik’s past that he decided to ruthlessly carve on you.

Your happiness and sense of relief did not last long though, as the man who called himself Doctor entered the room not exactly quietly.

“Look who’s alive. I’m glad”, he wrote something on his notes, “very glad, even.”

“What are you going to do to me next? Turn me into… abomination?” You attempted to sound sarcastic even though all your being was screaming inside. “I’m pretty sure you have not gotten your fill yet out of me.”

Dottore abruptly stopped writing and dropped his journal on the lab desk next to you.

“I think we’re finished here.”

“What?”

“I said you’re free to go”, he cut your leather restraints with one rough motion that had a vibe of uncertainty of the soul.

You looked at your hands, your body cheered welcoming freedom, but at the bottom of your heart you were perplexed.

“But why?”

Dottore did not utter a single word more, with his face buried into his other records, he turned away from you completely ignoring your presence.

You found your clothes tidy and repaired on the chair, and put them on quickly. Upon escaping the place you saw that not a single Fatui agent was preventing you from leaving. You looked at the lab once more and a pang of strange kind of sorrow appeared in your heart. Perhaps, you should pay him a visit once you’re recovered? Or was it a bad idea?..

Alhaitham

The nerdy scholar was quite possessive and jealous. He had a very curious but rather depressive personality. You thought him a quiet man until one extraordinary and terrific experience.

Alhaitham locked a man in the library for the whole night after he saw him giving you too much attention and you happily reciprocating him. An innocent friendly conversation seemed a blunt flirt to him. He could not bear the thought you having affection to someone else who was not him. When he saw you first he realised that he wanted you to see only him, and give all your attention to him. He craved to see you wanting his company, clinging to him or even agreeing to date him. But since his personality was too aloof and he never ever attempted to simply ask you out, but kept staring at you from the side, stalking unnoticeably and gather all information about you, you never had a chance to learn of his true feelings. Behind his obsession there had to be something, as such strong feelings never came out of nowhere.

Upon seeing you chat with that guy Alhaitham grew so furious that he almost not giving it a thought just slammed the door with the poor guy in the library and left him there for the whole damn night. Blinded by his jealousy, he did not even consider how you’d feel about that. The next morning you were perplexed by the sudden disappearance of your classmate, and once the library opening time came, the student was finally released.

“How could you do this to him? To anyone?” You asked Alhaitham; it did not take much time to learn whose fault was that.

“How could I?” He asked you back, his expression grave and unmoveable as if he were not interested in a single thing in the world. “How could you spend so much time with him? He’s a total jerk.”

“Judging by what you did the total jerk is you! How could you simply lock the person up? Are you insane?”

Alhaitham’s patience started to grow thinner. He squeezed his hands into the fists so hard that his knuckled turned snow-white.

“Are you stupid? You really don’t see how I feel about you? And you keep being so nice to everyone but me. You’re obviously ignoring me.”

Bewildered, yet you finally understood the root of the case. You stared at him for a few seconds before checking if anyone was near to eavesdrop. Luckily, there was not a soul around so you spoke honestly:

“If you wanted to woo me, endangering someone was not a good idea. You did something I deem unacceptable. And such unacceptable actions will only make me like you less, Alhaitham.”

Alhaitham leaned closer, his voice was a gentle whisper.

“Right? Then teach me to woo you properly. I’ll do thousands of attempts to win you over, no matter the cost.” You pressed your hands against his shoulders to prevent him from getting into closer proximity with you, and Alhaitham, although not completely willingly, but still backed off.

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vinceaddams · 1 year ago

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Any tips on learning to make buttonholes? I've been putting it off for.... *checks notes* like three years.... but better late than never and all that. I don't have any fancy machines so I gotta do it by hand but that seems right up your alley.

Thanks!

It IS up my alley, yes, I do most of my buttonholes by hand!

I'm actually part way through filming an 18th century buttonhole tutorial, but I expect it'll be a few more weeks before I finish that and put it on the youtubes, so in the meantime here's the very very short version. (The long version is looking like it'll probably be about 40 minutes maybe, judging by how much script I've written compared to my last video?)

Mark your line, a bit longer than your button is wide. I usually use a graphite mechanical pencil on light fabrics, and a light coloured pencil crayon on dark ones. (I have fabric pencils too, but they're much softer and leave a thicker line.) You may want to baste the layers together around all the marked buttonholes if you're working on something big and the layers are shifty and slippery. I'm not basting here because this is just a pants placket.

Do a little running stitch (or perhaps a running backstitch) in fine thread around the line at the width you want the finished buttonhole to be. This holds the layers of fabric together and acts as a nice little guide for when you do the buttonhole stitches.

Cut along the marked line using a buttonhole cutter, or a woodworking chisel. Glossy magazines are the best surface to put underneath your work as you push down, and you can give it a little tap with a rubber mallet if it's not going through all the way.

I'm aware that there are some people who cut their buttonholes open using seam rippers, and if any of them are reading this please know that that is abhorrent behaviour and I need you to stop it immediately. Stop it.

Go get a buttonhole cutter for 10 bucks and your life will be better for it. Or go to the nearest hardware store and get a little woodworking chisel. This includes machine buttonholes, use the buttonhole cutter on them too. If you continue to cut open buttonholes with a seam ripper after reading this you are personally responsible for at least 3 of the grey hairs on my head.

Do a whipstitch around the cut edges, to help prevent fraying while you work and to keep all those threads out of the way. (For my everyday shirts I usually do a machine buttonhole instead of this step, and then just hand stitch over it, because it's a bit faster and a lot sturdier on the thin fabrics.)

I like to mark out my button locations at this point, because I can mark them through the holes without the buttonhole stitches getting in the way.

For the actual buttonhole stitches it's really nice if you have silk buttonhole twist, but I usually use those little balls of DMC cotton pearl/perle because it's cheap and a good weight. NOT stranded embroidery floss, no separate strands! It's got to be one smooth twisted thing!

Here's a comparison pic between silk buttonhole twist (left) and cotton pearl (right). Both can make nice looking buttonholes, but the silk is a bit nicer to work with and the knots line up more smoothly.

I've actually only used the silk for one garment ever, but am going to try to do it more often on my nicer things. I find the cotton holds up well enough to daily wear though, despite being not ideal. The buttonholes are never the first part of my garments to wear out.

I cut a piece of about one arm's length more or less, depending on the size of buttonhole. For any hole longer than about 4cm I use 2 threads, one to do each side, because the end gets very frayed and scruffy by the time you've put it through the fabric that many times.

I wax about 2cm of the tip (Not the entire thread. I wax the outlining/overcasting thread but not the buttonhole thread itself.) to make it stick in the fabric better when I start off the thread. I don't tend to tie it, I just do a couple of stabstitches or backstitches and it holds well. (I'm generally very thorough with tying off my threads when it comes to hand sewing, but a buttonhole is basically a long row of knots, so it's pretty sturdy.)

Put the needle through underneath, with the tip coming up right along that little outline you sewed earlier. And I personally like to take the ends that are already in my hand and wrap them around the tip of the needle like so, but a lot of people loop the other end up around the other way, so here's a link to a buttonhole video with that method. Try both and see which one you prefer, the resulting knot is the same either way.

Sometimes I can pull the thread from the end near the needle and have the stitch look nice, but often I grab it closer to the base and give it a little wiggle to nestle it into place. This is more necessary with the cotton than it is with the silk.

The knot should be on top of the cut edge of the fabric, not in front of it.

You can put your stitches further apart than I do if you want, they'll still work if they've got little gaps in between them.

Keep going up that edge and when you get to the end you can either flip immediately to the other side and start back down again, or you can do a bar tack. (You can also fan out the stitches around the end if you want, but I don't like to anymore because I think the rectangular ends look nicer.)

Here's a bar tack vs. no bar tack sample. They just make it look more sharp, and they reinforce the ends.

For a bar tack do a few long stitches across the entire end.

And then do buttonhole stitches on top of those long stitches. I also like to snag a tiny bit of the fabric underneath.

Then stick the needle down into the fabric right where you ended that last stitch on the corner of the bar tack, so you don't pull that corner out of shape, and then just go back to making buttonhole stitches down the other side.

Then do the second bar tack once you get back to the end.

To finish off my thread I make it sticky with a bit more beeswax, waxing it as close to the fabric as I can get, and then bring it through to the back and pull it underneath the stitches down one side and trim it off.

In my experience it stays put perfectly well this way without tying it off.

Voila! An beautiful buttonholes!

If you want keyhole ones you can clip or punch a little rounded bit at one end of the cut and fan your stitches out around that and only do the bar tack at one end, like I did on my 1830's dressing gown.

(I won't do that style in my video though, because they're not 18th century.)

Do samples before doing them on a garment! Do as many practice ones as you need to, it takes a while for them to get good! Mine did not look this nice 10 years ago.

Your first one will probably look pretty bad, but your hundredth will be much better!

Edit: Video finished!

youtube

And here's the blog post, which is mostly a slightly longer version of this post.

#ask #buttonholes #sewing #hand sewing #sewing tutorial #I've been procrastinating on the video this week #I want it done! I don't want to work on it I want new projects! I want to cut out more gloves!#currently forcing myself to do the last few buttonholes on these pants and then maybe I can cut out new gloves? as a treat?#but I hope I get some filming done tomorrow too

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demonpiratehuntress · 1 year ago

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mistletoe

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader

summary - jumping on the mistletoe bandwagon, their reactions to finding themselves under the mistletoe with you

warnings - none

a/n: Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it! I don't but I wanted to wish everyone else :)

ZORO

You would be lying if you said you didn't plan all week mostly trying to get Zoro under mistletoe with you. Coming up with excuses to get him in a doorway seemed near impossible, but after a very long few days of thinking, you had your plan set.

"Zorooooooo~"

The swordsman groaned, knowing exactly what that sing-song call meant for him. It could only spell mischief, and he popped open an eye to peer at you curiously.

"What do you want, woman?" He grumbled.

You pouted, "Come onnnnn, lighten up! It's Christmas!" You tugged on his arm. "Pleaseeee?"

He sighed loudly, "Fine."

He let you pull him up and drag him along, silently cursing his willingness to go along with whatever silly endeavor you chose for each day. He couldn't help it, as much as he wanted to just sleep, he loved you enough to participate in your silly antics.

When you suddenly stopped and pointed upwards, Zoro was confused. Then he looked up, and his eyes found some mistletoe hanging from the top of the doorframe.

"Seriously?" He looked back at you, frowning.

You rolled your eyes, "Fine, I'll go get Sanji."

That was enough to make him growl and grab your waist, tugging you forward so you were against his chest. You giggled innocently and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You're so annoying," he complained, but kissed you anyway.

He kissed you slowly and deeply, pouring as much love as he could into it. Usually these kisses were brief, but he drew it out and kissed you for longer than you expected, effectively knocking the wind out of you when you pulled away.

"Now can I nap in peace?"

ACE

This man right here is perhaps the only one in this list that does not need to be dragged under it. He is the one carrying it around, putting it over two people's heads randomly and then running off giggling when they yell and chase him. But he will also put it over your head and his, although it took him a few tries.

"(Nameeeee)! Look what I got!"

Your energetic boyfriend bounded into the room you were busy in, holding something behind his back. He pouted when you didn't even look up, before repeatedly tapping your arm to get your attention.

"(Name), (Name), (Name)..."

He's like a little kid. So eventually you give in and look at him, only to see him raise something and hold it above yours and his heads. You blush madly upon seeing what it was, feeling butterflies form in the pit of your stomach. The fiery commander smiled innocently, and you couldn't help but giggle as you pulled away from your work to indulge him, wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

"Well, look what we have here," you smirked.

"I know, what a coincidence," he shot you a goofy grin, leaning in.

"I'm not complaining."

You crashed your lips against his, kissing him fiercely and hotly. He reciprocated immediately, making sure to keep the mistletoe hanging above as he cupped your cheek in his free hand, smiling against your lips. He loved kisses like these, energetic and passionate but also loving and adoring.

"That was by far the best response I've gotten to hanging this over people's heads."

"Oh my god, Ace!" you giggled, realising why everyone had been out for Ace's blood today. You shook your head at his antics, pecking his lips one more time before going back to work.

LAW

The complete opposite of Ace, Law is the hardest to get under the mistletoe. He is always cooped up in his room, working, and barely leaves. So you have to do some really deep thinking and planning to get this stubborn man to kiss you under the mistletoe.

Of course, he has to leave his room for meals, so you decide to strike at breakfast on Christmas.

You failed to account for the fact that Law was the most observant person to ever exist, and that he would easily spot the mistletoe you not-so-secretly hid above his doorway. He did find it, and called you first - knowing full well this was one of your shenanigans.

"(Name)-ya, what's that?"

You swallowed nervously and looked up, letting out a nervous chuckle, "I have no idea how that got there."

"Uh huh," he hummed, stepping closer to you. "Look me in the eye and say that again."

You couldn't. And now you were getting too nervous to even just grab him and kiss him, but little did you know that was part of his plan. He was flipping the switch, turning the tables on you and making it seem as if it was his idea.

"Well, you know the rule," he said casually, leaning closer to you. "I'm waiting."

Your face turned a dark shade of red at that, and you fidgeted with your shirt anxiously before leaning in to meet him halfway, letting your lips touch his gently. He was the one who deepened it, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Law, when he wanted to be, could be just as mischievous, if not more.

SANJI

I take it back, Sanji is the easiest to get under the mistletoe. In fact, he is the one planting the mistletoe everywhere in hopes of getting to snag a kiss from you at one point. Little did he expect, his plan would backfire quite miserably. Because instead of walking into the kitchen with you, you got stuck in the doorway with Usopp under the mistletoe, because Usopp had tried to get out the same time you tried to go in.

"YOU LONG-NOSED SNAKE-"

Sanji was fuming, throwing a tantrum as you just giggled and pecked the sniper's cheek, earning an embarrassed blush from him as he scuttled off.

"Babe-"

"Next one is mine, I swear!"

That did not happen. You just happened to be walking out of the aquarium when Zoro walked in, and Sanji almost fainted when the two of you landed under the mistletoe.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

"Rules are rules, twirly brows," Zoro smirked, enjoying this solely because it irritated the hell out of Sanji. As the blonde fumed and threw another tantrum, you gave Zoro a quick peck on the cheek as well before moving on.

Only after you had given Luffy, Brook, Franky and Chopper cheek kisses as well did Sanji FINALLY get you under the mistletoe, but by then he was in tears. Crying over how badly he'd planned this.

"Come here you," you laughed and pulled him close by the collars of his shirt, smashing your lips against his. You kissed him fervently, showing him that you'd been waiting for this kiss the most. He eventually relaxed and kissed you back just as passionately, locking his arms around your waist.

"About damn time."

KAKU

Oh, boy. The ratio of boys to girls in the CP9 team is horrible. There are two women, compared to six men. That's excluding Spandam, because you never included him in these things. But still, it was quite difficult for Kaku to surprise you with mistletoe because of the rare chance of getting you to walk where he placed it without you figuring it out.

Oh well.

So, begrudgingly, Khalifa agreed to help him out. Knowing it wouldn't be suspicious if she led you through a specific doorway, you followed her easily without questioning it.

That is, until she stopped outside the doorway and you entered at the same time as Kaku was trying to leave. The CP9 swordsman blushed, thankful that this worked, and shyly gestured up towards the mistletoe. Your eyes widened, before your own blush formed on your cheeks.

He is so so shy, you are the one who actually makes the move. He may have planted the mistletoe, but he is too nervous and flustered to actually lean in and kiss you, so you have to grab him by the zipper of his jacket and tug him down to meet you at eye-level.

"It's cute that you planned it out," you smiled innocently, knowing about it since Khalifa was not great at hiding what her task was.

"How did you-" He looked at Khalifa, who just shrugged and turned away. He blushed harder, "I didn't want to get anyone else under here by accident."

His admission made you giggle, "Fair enough."

Then you leaned in and kissed him slowly and deeply, angling your face away from his long nose after multiple experiences of your kisses being ruined by your eye being poked. His arms slipped around your waist and he lifted you up slightly, since he was much taller, and kissed you even deeper than you had kissed him.

"Get a room!" Jabra yelled, which you both ignored.

LUFFY

At least everyone else on this list actually knows what mistletoe is. Poor Luffy was so confused by the concept when Nami brought it up a few days before, and even explaining it to him didn't help. Unfortunately, on the day of Christmas, before anyone could actually show him what it was, Luffy had already eaten like three of the four plants that were strung up randomly around the ship.

"Luffy!" Nami scolded, "They're not food!"

Sanji had set them up, not knowing your dear captain would be oblivious enough to consume them, though he should have known better. Fortunately, since the cook was desperately trying to get either Robin or Nami to kiss him, he had spares.

"It's mistletoe, Luffy," you giggled as you took his hand and guided him to where Sanji had hung a surprise one for you and Luffy.

"What does it do?" He blinked, so very cutely confused.

"Well," you began, stopping under the doorway with the mistletoe, "You have to kiss the person you end up under the mistletoe with." As you said it, you blushed hard.

"But why?" Luffy asked. "Can't I just kiss you anyway?"

You laughed at that, blushing more, "You can, but it's more like...a cute tradition."

"Oh," he nodded, looking like he understood. He did not.

"Luffy," you sighed, pointing up at the plant.

He looked up, got excited and reached for it...only to have you slap his hand away.

"Don't eat it!"

Before he could respond, you tugged him against you by his waistcoat and kissed him deeply, successfully distracting him from his mission to apparently consume all the mistletoe you owned. He wrapped his arms around you excitedly and kissed you messily, but you didn't mind because he was just very eager.

"I get it now!"

USOPP

Like Kaku, Usopp is an extremely shy, flustered boy. He is so nervous all the time and when Robin off-handedly mentions mistletoe a day before Christmas, Usopp almost faints. He has kissed you before, but the idea of setting it up and leading you to it had his knees knocking together, his legs becoming two wavy lines.

"Usopp!" You called excitedly, rushing to find your boyfriend. While he was so nervous about the mistletoe, you had no such qualms and even blatantly waved it around over your head. "Look what I found!"

When you reached him, you smiled innocently as you held the little plant over your heads, grabbing his hand to pull him close.

"And what exactly do you have there?" He asked, feigning confusion.

You raised an eyebrow, then smirked, "Are you getting shy on me again? How cute." You kissed his cheek, making him protest.

"Is that my kiss?! That is so unfair, how can you just-"

You cut him off by actually kissing him, effectively shutting him up and drowning out his complaints. You kissed him deeply, much more passionately than your usual kisses and giggled when his legs almost gave out from under him.

"I-I was gonna do that..."

"Uh huh."

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 10 months ago

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≡;-꒰ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔

╰┈➤ ❝ caleb x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, yearning, kissing, make up sex, soft sex that turns rough quite quickly, dom!caleb, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, praise, use of pet names "baby" "pipsqueak", lmk if i missed any tags !!

wc : 4.1k

Perhaps, yearning had a time and a place for everyone. But for the two of you, maybe it had gone on for longer than you could take, the slightest shift in the atmosphere ready to break that fragile little bubble of boundaries.

"If it were that easy to get a license, I wouldn't be here in your bed complaining, you know!" You scoffed, falling upon the soft mattress and dangling your feet off the edge. As Caleb laughed, easing into a spot beside you, you softened.

It had barely been a few days.

You'd get back from your exam, wrestling uncertainty with your results, and he was there—ready to listen, willing to offer a crying shouder if need be. You didn't cry, of course, only complained. But the mere presence of him by your side was enough to lull you out of your negativity, turning your talks into lighthearted moments for you to look back on and smile.

It happened often, with Caleb.

It was so easy to be with him, so easy to relax and just... be yourself, no questions asked, no image to uphold.

Ever since you were children.

It was just the kind of friendship you shared; the mutual trust, the mutual comfort. And you wouldn't have it any other way, except that...

Discreetly, you glanced at the figure beside you, Caleb also having gone silent, the both of you taking to stare outside the window of his room. He looked sentimental like this, almost, and pretty. The steadiness of his broad back... and the way you thought it would be nice, for once, to ruffle his hair instead of the other way around.

All familiar to you, all... cherished, by you.

"So... You'll be leaving again, huh?"

Your voice was casual, or at least—as casual as you could make it be. Yet, a certain apprehension settled into the pit of your stomach, and when he turned his head to face you, violet eyes glowing under the drifting moonlight, you felt yourself swallow thickly.

"Ah, well. You know the drill," he shrugged, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. Yet despite the playfulness in his tone, there was a gentleness in his eyes that made your heart churn. "My vacation ends, and I gotta be on my way first thing in the morning... Y'know. The usual."

You wished he wouldn't say it out loud, but you supposed you brought this upon yourself. You were the one that had asked, after all—yet you looked into his eyes, finding that you couldn't even bring yourself to look away, and there was nothing to stop the pout that slowly formed on your face. It was your turn to look away, almost as if refusing to look at him when you were like this.

"When will you be back again?"

He stayed quiet, for a while. If you looked at him, you would have noticed the little tilt of his head, the little smile on his face. But you could feel his eyes on you, and you wouldn't dare turn your head.

Caleb, after all, never missed an opportunity to poke fun at you.

"Aww, pipsqueak, are you that upset?"

You couldn't believe he would even question it.

Huffing, you glanced to the side, already noting the glint of mischief hidden in his eyes. "What, and you're not?" Your voice was sharp, but your retort lacking. Even Caleb knew that you were often more creative with your responses, and he had the audacity to laugh at your expense, almost delighting in the way you would puff your cheeks, indignance written all over you.

"D'you want me to be?" He grinned, leaning down to your height, searching your eyes. Always, you would think that his irrational penchant for being perceptive would be your downfall, and you knew this was no exception.

"...You're always so telling with your gaze."

Caleb shook his head, straightening himself only to reach out and ruffle your hair. It was just as he'd always done since you were children, and the gentle familiarity of it made you bow your head in resignation. "'Course I'm upset, pipsqueak," he sighed. "It's always hard to leave home, isn't it?"

His voice slowed to a pause, almost as if he could have continued, could have added to his words—but he didn't.

This time, it was your turn to be curious. If Caleb knew your reactions and your habits by heart, then you, too, could say the same about him. And sure enough, the more you studied him, even as he chuckled and turned his head away, the more you took note of something in his eyes that you couldn't quite find a name for.

Still, more than your curiosity, was your growing indignance at his words.

"...Is that it?" You mumbled, hands gripping at the fabric of your nightgown. "It's hard to leave... home. So it's not hard to—"

"Leave you? No, it is, pipsqueak. You are home."

His words caught you off-guard.

He wasn't looking at you when he said it—there was no trace of a blush on his cheeks, on his ears, anywhere—It almost made you doubt the seriousness of it, or why he would say something so... direct. Caleb wasn't usually expressive with you in this way; compliments, yes, but he'd never called you... home, before.

The word lingered weighty in the air.

But in the silence between you, and the more you thought of it, you couldn't help but dwell on the unfairness of it all. "Then—then—!" A frown formed on your face, watching as his eyes turned back to you when you spoke. "Then stay..."

It almost hurt you the way his eyes softened, teasing mirth replaced by a knowing gentleness. His hand edged closer to yours, body leaning ever-so-slightly towards you. "C'mon, pipsqueak... Y'know I can't do that..." he mumbled.

In slow, careful movements, his other hand reached to rest gently on your head, making you suddenly hyperaware of the way his fingernails would graze against the skin of your scalp, running through your hair in a sweet, tender stroke. He'd repeat the same motion, another silence weaving between the two of you, before his hand settled on the side of your face—the ghost of a touch, only barely feeling his palm press against your skin.

You held your breath.

"If I could," he said, "If I could. I'd be back here every week, spend every day with you like back when we were kids."

Feeling yourself slowly melt underneath the tenderness in his gaze, your shoulders relaxed, your grip on your clothing easing slightly. But still, your own eyes drifted to the ground.

Despite all your indignance, despite the terrible, terrible thought of having him go away from you again, you knew what he said was true. Caleb had always cared for you as much as you cared for him—it shouldn't come as a surprise to you that his absence hurt him equally as much, and that he would only put up a front for you, if only to be the solid foundation that he had always been for you, all these years up to this very moment.

Tears brimmed at your eyes, Caleb immediately shifting closer to place both of his hands by the side of your face, wiping them away with little swipes.

"Hey, now. Don't cry on me. You know I'll still be back on my next holidays!"

"But when?" You put in every effort to steady your voice, unwilling for it to waver in front of him, unwilling to let any more tears fall in the most obvious display of desperation for him that you've ever had. "How long will you be gone? Only to stay again for another week or so... Sometimes, you stay even less than a week. I've barely managed to have a proper conversation with you this time, and yet— yet—!"

You sniffled as your bleary eyes settled on his features, leaning into the comforting warmth of his hold. "Ugh," you scolded yourself, though there was no weight in the way that you did. "You... you make me feel like a little kid, Caleb. I'm not even supposed to be this selfish with you."

"Hmm. Aren't you? You've always been a little selfish with me, and if I'm honest, this isn't really too surprising." He chuckled again, and the playfulness in his eyes made a temporary return before he dared to step closer, inching towards your face. "But I don't mind, pipsqueak. 'Cause I miss you just as much, everytime I can't see you."

His words were warm. As warm as the way he looked at you, as warm as the way he held you.

As warm as...

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you, too, dared to step another line into something the two of you had never set foot in—almost closing the distance, almost giving in to the thoughts that probed your mind, almost—

You pressed your forehead against his, the both of you taking a moment to peek into new territory that had been brought out in the open. Your lips, now, were close enough to barely touch. You could see deeply into his eyes like this, too—the way golden flecks of light mixed with saturated, purple hues, and for the first time, you thought, you noticed... Caleb was a lot like the sunsets you would see on your way home.

"What's on your mind, pipsqueak?" He murmured softly, the rasp in his voice revealing to you just how much your actions had caught him off-guard, just how much he was straining not to step a toe out of line from whatever you wanted; whatever this was.

The tension in the air was unmistakable.

You could think; imagine, perhaps, his heartbeat was racing in his chest just as fast as yours was. Perhaps, you would be able to feel it for yourself, if his body was pressed up against yours...

You watched as his gaze drifted down towards your lips, and you flushed at the subtlest indication that he might have the same thoughts as you did.

"Caleb..." you whispered, placing your hand over his, tilting your head slightly to the side and holding him closer against your cheek. "When you're away, do you... Think of me?"

Silence; his eyes never strayed from yours, waiting, observing, attentive and careful to note how you would approach this situation.

"The way that you miss me... What is it like?"

A slow inhale, one hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ears.

"Hmm, well... Maybe it's exactly in the way you're thinking of, right now."

"And... What would that be?"

"...Dunno, pipsqueak. What would it be?"

You smiled, seeing the flicker of a challenge in his eyes, but recognizing there to be equal parts of caution, still watching, waiting, waiting for you to make your move.

"Would you stop me?" You said finally, slowly draping your arm over his shoulder. "If I moved a little closer now, and then we'd..."

It was your turn to glance at his lips, so close to you, yet so far, almost blurry and out of focus with your proximity. You could feel his steady breaths against your face, and he didn't answer you. Instead, he took your words as his own confirmation, breaking the boundary, tilting his head as he captured your lips into a soft, gentle kiss.

He moved his lips slowly against yours, hands trailing down your face, down your back, settling on your waist—and then he pulled away, half-lidded eyes examining you closely. One beat, two—Caleb pushed you gently against the sheets, pressing close and flush against your body, his heartbeat racing in time with yours just as you had hoped it to.

"You... mean this, pipsqueak?" He breathed.

"...Do I lie that often to you? The reason I miss you so much, the reason I so badly want you to stay... Did you think it was because of whatever childish attachment I've had to you from the start?"

He nearly scoffed.

"Oh, what. And you're gonna call me oblivious? Like I don't see the way you look at me? Like I don't see the way you melt?"

This time you gasped, and a smirk played at his lips—his lips, ones that had kissed you just seconds prior. "You—! That's—!"

"I've known aaallll along, pipsqueak. But you've never had plans on acting on your feelings, right? So I'm just asking, 'cause... I don't want you to regret what we're doing."

Though feeling the weight of embarrassment begin to swirl in your stomach, your eyes softened.

Ah, you thought, he's always so considerate.

"What..." You searched his eyes, "What are we doing? What is this, then?"

"...You could think of it as me making it up to you..." Caleb spoke slowly. "Well, whatever this is, I could kiss you here for hours—easy."

You felt the heat rise back up to your cheeks—

"—Oorr..." He smiled, tucking another strand of hair behind your ear. "If you want a more detailed memory to keep you company while I'm gone, I could do even more than that. But your call, of course."

Immediately you understood what he was implying, and the mere thought of it turned you completely red in the face, pushing him away with a gasp.

"Caleb!" You cried out, and beside you, he laughed.

"Guess that's a no, then? Ah, well. No biggie, I could wait another few months or so. C'mere, and I'll—"

"N-no! I... I didn't mean it like that."

You cut him off quickly, chewing on the inside of your lip, and he raised an eyebrow.

"No? So what'd you mean, then?" Caleb reached out his hand for you to take, gently tracing his fingers over the skin of your palm.

"I... I'm up for it," you said, after a moment. "I mean... I don't mind. If you... If you wanna—do—what you were—"

You couldn't complete your sentence, and he squeezed your hand, another chuckle escaping his lips. "You would, huh? Have sex with me?"

His blatant admission had you burning, immediately pulling away once more to cover your face. "God, Caleb! Don't just say it like that!"

"Hey! I gotta be sure, don't I? Who knows if we were thinking different things?"

"But—! If you say it out loud, it sounds...! Embarrassing!"

"What, that I want to have sex with you?"

You could hear the infuriating melody of amusement in his voice, clearly pleased at your flustered reaction, clearly enjoying this mental torture on you like he always did.

"Caleb..." You whined at the sound of his laughter, peeking through your fingers just enough to let him see your pout.

"Alright, alright! I'll stop!" He grinned. "...But seriously, though. It doesn't matter too much that I've been waiting, I can wait a little longer if you're not ready yet. 'Cause honestly? I'm just happy enough like this already."

Like... This?

Your mind drifted to his kiss, his soft, plush lips mingling with your own. It had lasted barely a few seconds, but even the mere thought of it made you weak. The mere thought of holding him—doing more—having him love you, tender as always, in ways that he had never before. You'd fantasized about it, sure. Undeniably. Sometimes you would sit in one of his hoodies, flushing at his scent and the way that you could easily reach down to touch yourself in it—

You never did, out of the mere fear that you would never be able to look him in the eyes if you did.

But now, his own feelings, his own desires, lay just within your reach. No matter how scary it was to dive into such a foreign, indiscernible place of your relationship... You've never had him closer to you, and you didn't want to let go of that feeling.

So with a shy gaze, you closed the gap between the both of you once more, kissing at his neck and feeling each shudder of his body zap straight down to your core. "It's okay," you mumbled, "I think... I'd rather not wait, either."

In a flurry of movements, you were back against his pillows, his body above you and arms and legs tangled in a passionate embrace. Unlike earlier, each kiss upon your lips had you gasping your air—almost starved as he mouthed at you, almost desperate to explore every curve of your skin in a way you didn't know he ever could be.

"Unbelievable," he breathed, panting as he pulled away, fingers slowly gliding beneath your nightgown, tracing circles over your stomach. "I'm actually, actually touching you like this."

"Unbelievable?" You scoffed, turning your head to the side. "I should be the one saying that. Having you touch me like this..."

He smiled. And then slowly, his hands traveled up your skin, bunching the silken fabric of your nightwear up and above your breasts. You saw him draw in a shaky breath, a tremble in the way he stroked your skin—"Oh, fuck," he whispered, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Seriously, it's like a miracle, shit..."

"...Caleb, are you going to just tease?" You frowned, feeling vulnerable in the way he stared. Your body remained mostly exposed, revealed to him in a way that had him frozen with having never seen you so naked before.

But Caleb licked his lips, feeling them dry at the mere sight of you.

"Oh, baby, I wish."

There was a raspiness in his voice as he moved to yank down his sweatpants, chest heaving in the way he tried so hard to control his breaths.

Baby, he called you, and you could have sworn you let out a whine, the new nickname striking a chord inside of you more than you ever expected it to.

"I— shit. I really wanna take my time with you... Give you a whole experience you can think of 'til I get back, but you—"

A sense of urgency overtook him, and his hands were back on you, tracing your thighs, trailing up to press at your panties and nearly groaning at the patch of wetness he could feel.

You drew in a sharp breath.

"...Damn. It looks like I won't be able to keep my composure, not when I've thought about this moment for as long as I can remember."

His hand was pulling your underwear down within seconds, leaving your lower halves bare and exposed. The tip of his cock was wet with pre-cum, the sheer length of it having you momentarily speechless.

"W-wait, you're not—?!" A hint of panic rose in your voice as you sat up against the headboard, but he gently pushed you back down, towering over you.

"It'll fit," he spoke, matter-of-factly, reaching down to swipe at your cunt before bringing his hand up to your face. That smirk was there again, the tease in his eyes ever-present despite his promise not to leave you feeling unfair for too long. "You're crazy wet, pipsqueak. I think I'll slide in just fine."

His words brought a dangerous sting to your cheeks, feeling yourself clench around nothing, eyeing the slick that coated his fingers from a single swipe.

If, you thought, if he had those fingers inside of me, I wonder how deeply he would reach...

He leaned down to kiss you, almost as if reading your thoughts. "Not now," he murmured. "Maybe later. Maybe next time, when I get back."

You frowned. "Don't... don't talk about leaving when we're like this..."

"Baby—"

"No, Caleb. If I'm going to remember this moment, I am not going to think of it as the night before you go away again!"

Amusement flashed through his eyes, and the tip of his cock brushed lightly against your entrance, coating your clit with your wetness.

"Alright, I digress," he grinned. "But it's not an if, right? You will remember—and then you can busy yourself with the feeling of it whenever you need to. It's the whole point."

"...Busy myself?! What do you think you're—"

Your words were lost into a gaping moan, feeling his cock stretch at your walls, heat and pleasure coarsing through your veins in sharp, quick bursts.

"Fuuuuckkkk." He groaned from the throat, your hazy eyes making out the way he grit his teeth, his own eyes shut tightly as he pushed into you, all the way up to your hilt, gripping the headboard in ragged pants. "So..." he breathed, "So damn tight."

"Y-you're just—ngh—so big—"

It was almost as if he were intent on rendering you utterly speechless, barely giving you time to time to adjust before he was snapping his hips into yours. Every movement had him filling you up, thrusting into you balls deep, hips moving quickly, rhythmically, splitting you open with ease.

"W-Wai—iit— a-aahh—" Your back arched in raw pleasure, submitting to every ounce of desire that poured out of him. "Shit!" You cursed, head thrown back into his pillow. "So fast—Y-you're so fast—"

He only let out a hum of a moan in response, eyes finally opening, hands shifting to grab onto yours and pin them right up above your head.

"Oh, fuck— Caleb—!"

"Good," he rasped. "So wet, so tight, so—haah—so good—"

You clamp down tightly around him, greedily sucking his length in with the steady pulse of your cunt, moans breaking, body squirming under his grasp and the lustful heat of his gaze.

"Oh, god—sorry, baby, I can't—" Caleb's pace seemed to stutter with the way you clenched around him, pounding into you more erratically, cockhead hitting the spot that had you jolting. "You're too perfect, you're exactly how i've imagined—"

Whimpers began to fall from your lips as you struggled to wring your hands free from his grasp, desperate to touch him, desperate to feel him closer. And Caleb remained attentive despite his obvious euphoria, releasing your hands and leaning down close to you, grunts with every pump of his cock, almost needy for your heat.

The feeling was too much.

He was fucking you, and you couldn't think straight—you'd opened your mouth, and before you could stop yourself, you were spilling his name in ways you wouldn't have done otherwise.

"I love you, Caleb, I love you, I love you, I love y—nnh—leb— haah— I love you, Caleb—!"

It didn't take long after that for him to twitch in your cunt, and your walls fluttered around him, locking him in place as he stilled, spilling inside of you enough to have you leaking. It was enough to edge out a release of your own, and you trembled in his embrace, bodies locked in perpetual ecstasy.

And he was right, you would remember it.

Every slide of his cock against your walls, you'd remember it—and, with a pang, you realized... you'd long for it.

"...You're so cruel," you whispered as he leaned down to kiss at your jawline, slowly pulling out of you and collapsing beside you with a sigh.

"Hmm, wow. First, an I love you without warning, and now I'm the cruel one?" He laughed softly beside you. "Was I too hard? Sorry, pipsqueak, you're much too—"

"I love you, Caleb." Your mind much clearer after your high, you repeated your words, albeit shy enough to still turn over and snuggle into his chest. "Just... how am I supposed to miss you like this?"

He reached over to put his arm around you, stroking your hair lovingly. "...Miss me...?" he spoke slowly, almost as if choosing his words with care. "It won't be for too long, pipsqueak, swear."

"But you don't even—"

He clicked his tongue, cutting you off. "I mean, that's partly why we fucked, right? It should keep you busy enough while we wait. Now you have something more accurate to touch yourself to, and, hey—I wouldn't stop you!"

You had indeed come to a similar conclusion, but hearing him say it out loud like that had you looking up with a halfhearted glare.

"...Caleb, you're filthy!" You huffed.

But you both knew well that your words didn't amount to much, and he chuckled, poking your temple.

"Okay, okay. How about... Just to make sure you won't be too sad, we can have another round in the morning?"

"Caleb!"

He smiled. "...I love you, too, pipsqueak."

The warmth of his words, blending in with his familiar, most precious nickname for you, had you easily forgetting whatever trepidations you had in your heart. Maybe, you thought, whatever came with this new door in your relationship was worth it—especially if you could be in his arms the way you were now, listening closely to the lull of his heartbeat.

『 I can't decide if it's a choice getting swept away; I hear the sound of my own voice asking you to stay. 』

⁺₊ / an: ouh this req prompt couldve gone soooooo many ways and it was so hard to decide!! the word count proves i love him almost as much as xavier, but i also owe it to caleb x mc being so "treacherous" by taylor swift coded, and i will die on this hill!!!!!!

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

#love and deepspace #love & deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love & deepspace smut #love and deepspace caleb #love & deepspace caleb #love and deepspace x reader #love & deepspace x reader #caleb x reader #caleb x you #ʚɞ*.ﾟ. lnds #✿˖°. roxiefic #divider by mikeykuns #divider by cafekitsune #*ੈ♡. rose garden

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endless-ineffabilities · 1 year ago

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sapphire-hearted (part two)

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

After his betrayal, the reader is determined to forget about Aemond. But her attempts at entertaining a potential suitor seem to be thwarted at every turn, by none other than... who else?

themes/warnings: jealous!Aemond, angst, third (and fourth) parties involved but not really

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

a/n: the title changed, yes! Also, can you believe I actually thought this would remain a mere oneshot? But no, I got hungry for more angst and jealousy and all the good stuff. Much love to all my fellow angst lovers for breathing new life into this fic!

When the whispers started, you knew they would eventually reach Aemond.

You were rumoured to be entertaining Lord Ramsay Beesbury, the youngest son of the late Lord Lyman Beesbury.

His older brother, Braxton, was your initial suitor many moons ago. But you refused him, of course. For a certain one-eyed prince.

Lord Braxton had been the one who became Lord of Honeyholt after his father and he has just recently taken a wife. Unlike his father, however, he opted to side with the Greens and to back Aegon's claim.

Ramsay began to seek you out himself, not long after finding out that you are now more receptive to marriage proposals.

Everyone knew. Well, it seems that way, at least. It is common knowledge that you and Aemond were closer than to be expected of mere friends. Any Lord who might ask for your hand knew not to expect to be met with warmth and eagerness. They tried anyway, and failed.

Because each time, and without even needing to say so, they knew that you were choosing Aemond.

"I don't know why you would think that," you lie with a sweet smile, when Ramsay presents his concern about you and Aemond. "Prince Aemond and I are acquaintances, and that is all there is to it."

"Oh." Ramsay smiles, evidently pleased with your response. "My lady, I am glad to be spending this afternoon with you here in the gardens. After some time, I would hope that we can join our Houses, as humble as mine might be." He averts his eyes shyly. Ramsay is surely a gentle lad, as far as you have seen.

"You need not be concerned, my lord. My House is just as humble. But we make do, don't we? At the very least, we do not have to busy ourselves with all the politicking the more nobler Houses seem to get into."

"That is true, my lady." He grins, and you notice lines burst around his eyes, though he is merely five and twenty. Ramsay has spent a life imparting and partaking in laughter.

Unlike a certain sullen, brooding Targaryen. Could you get used to Ramsay? Surely. Could you love him? Perhaps so.

"So what shall we do on the morrow?" Ramsay closes the distance between the two of you on the bench, and his knees brush against yours under your skirts. He takes your hands in his, "I propose - "

He stops, his head whipping to the side, looking toward the treeline.

"What is it, my lord?" you ask, looking in the same direction. But you see nothing.

"I thought I heard something." He whispers, then looks again to you. "Where were we - "

"Fine weather we're having." You nearly jump out of your skin in surprise, as Ramsay is interrupted yet again. Aemond stands about a foot away from your bench, hands clasped behind him in usual commanding stance.

"My prince." Ramsay stiffens, your hands still held in his. You see that Aemond's attention has been drawn to this, his lips curling in distaste.

You both rise from the bench. Ramsay is no longer touching you, but still stands close.

Closer than Aemond would like. His hand clenches into a fist behind his back. He muses about whether it is unbecoming for a Targaryen prince to sock a young Lord in the jaw unprovoked.

He does not much care either way.

"It is, indeed," Ramsay says. "Which is why I thought to take the Lady out for a walk in the gardens."

"And a fine idea it was," you add, purposefully looping your arm around Ramsay's. "It's best that Lord Ramsay and I get to know each other well, if we are to wed soon."

Aemond decides not to punch the young Lord Beesbury. Not just yet. Clearly you're provoking him and he is not going to give you the satisfaction.

"A wedding in the middle of war?" Aemond hums. "Do you not think such a union foreshadows plenty of discontent and strife, my lady?"

You scoff, "Oh, what does it matter? When will we ever not be in a war, in some form or another? That should not stop us from marrying whom we please. From loving whom we please."

Loving. Love. Aemond's heart sinks. You mention love in front of him, when you have yourself wrapped around another man. One whom you plan to wed.

How can you speak of love, when you are planning to sacrifice it? Aemond might transgress with Alys, but at least he is doing it for the realm. For you.

Is he not? Then why does it seem like he is losing you?

Ramsay beams to Aemond, "My lady is truly clever, is she not, my prince?"

"She is." Aemond genuinely agrees. He only has eyes on you, running over the planes of your face which he has committed to memory, all those nights of watching you sleep next to him. He looks upon you with longing.

With love.

For a moment, everything feels right. You and your love gaze upon each other, all else forgotten. Your arm slides down from Ramsay's in your brief reverie.

Then Ramsay clears his throat. "What are you doing here, Prince Aemond? Can we help you with anything?"

"Oh, I don't think you can," Aemond says pointedly, clearly pleased with himself.

"P-pardon me?"

You interrupt the exchange, your voice icy, "Not busy today, my prince? No plans of battle to discuss? Grand spells to concoct?"

"No." Aemond merely shakes his head. "I've no use for those at the moment."

"What a surprise," you sneer.

Ramsay glazes over your mention of spells, thinking he misheard things. He then addresses Aemond, "It seems that the tides have turned toward our favour, my prince. The Greens' favour. I can only hope that the aid my House provides has played a part, albeit small."

Aemond does not mince his words, disdain clear in his voice when he says, "Surely the barrels of honeyed wine that your great House provides has been crucial in advancing our cause, my Lord. If you yourself possessed any mettle, then you would be out there in the battlefield. Instead you sit here in the gardens, wasting your days trying to covet something of mine. "

Unbelievable. Your mouth nearly falls open in shock at his demeanour. "Aemond..."

"I need to speak with you, my lady."

"I am occupied at the moment, my prince." You respond through gritted teeth.

"It's alright," Ramsay nods to you, clearly disheartened. But he holds his ground, and bravely takes your hand in his. Completely aware that Aemond watches, he leans down and plants a kiss on the back of your hand, eyes on yours the entire time.

Aemond feels his restraint dissipating, hanging on by the flimsiest of threads.

"Come with me," Aemond takes your hand, the very same which Ramsay just kissed, and begins pulling you away and walking towards the tall hedges.

You can feel his thumb brushing against your knuckles, as if trying to eliminate any trace of Lord Ramsay.

"Stop - " you say, but to no avail.

When Ramsay is no longer in your line of sight, you pull your hand from Aemond's grip. "What is wrong with you? Ramsay did nothing to deserve that."

"Ramsay," Aemond rolls his eye. His shoulders are stiff, and you can easily tell he is angry.

"I should go find him, and apologize for your behaviour. Clearly you will not."

"I do not need to apologize for anything to that weak-willed, little - "

"Then apologize to me," you interject, voice breaking.

"Whatever for?" He reaches for you, but you stand still. Doing nothing as his hand cradles your face.

"For everything... for being with someone else... for not choosing me."

"But I choose you. I always - "

"You chose Alys."

His face scrunches at that. Aemond thinks that he did not choose Alys, he merely chose to use her powers for his gain. But it will never be her over you.

"Just apologize to me," you shrug. "Or don't. It does not change anything. We can soon set all of this behind us."

You watch him intently, drinking in every slight change in his expression. The curve of his lips. The way his eyelashes brush against his skin when he looks down.

If you have to let him go, you will always want to remember him. To remember everything.

He says nothing for the longest time, just holding your face in his hands.

Until you step away. His arms fall to his sides.

"I have to choose Ramsay, Aemond. I have to do this for myself," you say.

Still, nothing. His gaze is trained downward, and he feels helpless as he can feel you slipping away from him.

You finally muster up the strength to say goodbye, "I'll be seeing you, my love."

Your feet feel heavy as you walk away, crunching against the small rocks on the path.

"What if we were to wed? What then, hmm?" He suddenly says, making you stop in your tracks.

He continues, "Will you choose me?"

Will Aemond finally give up Alys? Will he marry the reader even if it will be frowned upon and seen as an unfit union? *shrugs* you tell me

Will Aegon make an appearance in part three? *nods* yes. Yes, he will.

In my mind, Ramsay is played by Callum Turner or Jonah Hauer-King. Just a thought. Aemond's got some competition *laughs evilly*

I hope I managed to include everyone in the taglist!! If not, just let me know 🖤

taglist: @immyowndefender @bellameshipper @aemondswifeisme @bash1018 @fuck-the-reaper @shessthunderstoms @aemondsbabygirl @melsunshine @youtoldalie @snh96 @noxytopy @ellooo0ooo @brianochka @not-a-glad-gladiator @mac95650 @whitejuliana1204 @midnightmystic @saminalloxo @oh-no-tia @magnificentsapphiresoul @clara-geekhime @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen one shot

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tuliptic · 9 months ago

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Let Me Describe Your Aura

Hello, I'm back again. I have this in my drafts for a very, very long time (since last year), and I have finally completed it. This was meant to be a short reading for Instagram, but well, it ended up longer than what I expected. Tho I posted it there, you can still read it here. Honestly speaking, this reading ended up quite different from what I've expected and I don't really know what I was hoping to get from this. Maybe colours? And vibes? No idea. But still, I hope you all enjoy the reading.

As usual, close your eyes, breathe in and out, make sure your mind and heart is calm. Then, open your eyes to see which pile talks to you the most/draws you in the most. Once you’ve found your pile, scroll down to the respective parts to see what are the messages for you.

Pile 1 - Pile 2

Pile 3 - Pile 4

Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever that you feel like it. If it doesn’t resonate, it’s okay to just drop it. That aside, I do not consent to my work or here to be used by third parties on this platform or other websites.

Decks used: Luna Cat Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Linestrider Tarot Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck.

Pile 1:

For some reason, it gives me a very Uranus vibe? It’s like you’re a person who’s constantly on board with change as you constantly get involved in almost everything possible. You also give me the feeling that you’re… Not satisfied. You are not satisfied with a lot of things, especially with finances. Imagine the hierarchy of needs. Every time you fulfill one of them, you constantly seek to fulfill the other level. You’re constantly pushing yourself to achieve better and achieve more, but with this, you’re unable to have some form of balance and may have some conflicts with people you work with. I wouldn’t really say it’s insecurity, but there’s some form of fear and being “not enough” for others that I’m seeing here. Perhaps you come from a big family, and you feel that you have the responsibility to feed everyone and to answer to their needs as well as wants. There’s an inner child in you that is trying to nurture yourself despite all the rush that you’re putting yourself through, sending you messages so that you can take a break from time to time. You not only receive messages, but you also send them out as well. Some (or perhaps, most) of you may like writing memos or notes for your loved ones.

Tl;dr: Instead of saying aura, I would say that there’s this air of uncertainty that you bring with you. You wouldn’t be called a wildcard, because there’s still some elements of earth in you, aka a sense of stability. But still, many may wonder how to approach you without feeling threatened, I guess. For some of you, you may also have an air of authority, or maybe an RBF, hence the fear towards you too.

Pile 2:

For some reason, the first thing I’m picking up here is that you like to present yourself as mysterious? However, there is some secrecy involved here that I’m seeing, and you may be good at redirecting conversations or attention to other people. Butterfly effect as well? It’s like you’re fluttering away and not caring about what you’ve done or what are the actions they’ll take. You have swords and court cards here, and I’m feeling that you’re that person, providing mental insight and stimulation to people around you. Just that there may be some concerns with how you present yourself, how you word yourself, and how people can be easily offended by you. Honestly, I’d say that they’re more offended to you as a person instead of your words or what you do. It’s like… They’re threatened by your presence. Pile 1 makes people feel threatened by their nature, but for you, people are threatened by what you’re capable of bringing - an unwanted change. It’s like seeing you will remind them of what they’re lacking and how much comfort they’ll need to give up, and hence, you may feel like an outcast most of the time, feeling that you do not belong to anywhere. Still, I’d say, people who are close to you, especially your friends will find comfort in you. You’re a good listener and will be able to provide valuable insights. They’ll be glad that you’re on their team with whatever project you’re working on. If you’re ever interested in working on a collab, do it. You’re meant for it.

Tl;dr: For you, your aura would be swords-ish, sharp but clear. You know how a sharp and strong sword can be used as a mirror? Yeah that. That’s you, reflecting the fear of others. It’s difficult, but with time, I believe you’ll be able to work along with it.

Pile 3:

Hmmmm. Harmonious, I’d say. That’s the first word I’m picking up. I kinda have an image of an orange cat sleeping in the sun, probably the warmth, coziness and fuzzy feeling that it gives. You may have heard your friends or people around you describing you as a fun or sunny person, or that you’re like the sun, bringing warmth to people around you. You may also have a lot of passion projects and most of them are incomplete as of current, the same goes with how your life is right now too. Remember to continue whatever efforts you’re putting in. The rewards will come at unexpected times. Another thing I’m picking up is that you like to go along with the flow. Good things happen? Great! Not so nice things happening? Aww sheesh better luck next time. Kinda feeling. Or perhaps, this is what you portray yourself as. I’m getting a weight on my chest eventho there are happy cards. Probably it’s because you put up that mask so that people around you won’t see the pain you’re in. Vulnerability sounds like a theme that you’ll need to explore, understand, and wield. It sounds difficult and probably painful, but it is needed for you to be able to understand the various facets of life. You’re very perceptive, or perhaps, you have a gift in it. But then, to be able to utilize that skill of yours, you’ll need to expand your knowledge base, experience the various emotions, look into all the tiny things that life has for you.

Tl;dr: Some may say that you’re a person of culture but you know you’re far from that. Still, people generally like you with how amiable you are, and how you put an effort to make people around you comfortable. However, people will not cross you because you have respect for yourself too. There may be some similarities to Pile 1 with the earthy energy here, so you may check out Pile 1 if you’re drawn to it as well, especially if you have Saturn energy.

Pile 4:

A Chinese idiom came to my mind when I see this pile: 与世无争. It means there’s no quarrel or argument with the society, but it generally means a way of avoiding conflict in a passive way. As though you want nothing to do with the current world. Not sure if it’s correct to say that you’re disappointed with the society but there’s some apathy in here, not having much hope with the people you’ve seen. With this, you may have decided to keep yourself closed from the people around you. Not to use strong words, but you may detest the world and build a utopia in your head, imagining a world that is ideal to you and the rules you live with. Majority of the cards here are in reverse, which explains the dejection and dissatisfaction I’m feeling here. I am having problems in describing this pile and it’s making me scratch on my keyboard because of how I’m unable to phrase words. Still, despite all of that, you’re a very capable individual, especially with the King and Queens in your reading. You may have more feminine energy or may present yourself in a more feminine way than others, tho there’s a chance of you rejecting it. People may come to you for help and advice not only because they trust you, but also your words are able to assure them that things will be alright. You have quite a lot of resources on your hands, may it be finances/monetary resources, knowledge, or even network/connections, and you use them according to your needs and values. There may be some… Unconventional skills that you have. I’m not sure what they are, but it’s up to you to figure out how you want to put them to good use.

Tl;dr: This pile is the most difficult pile for me to write as the energy is all around the place yet focused at the same time. It’s very conflicting and confusing, which may be the aura that you exude. There is no clear definition of good or bad in this reading, but more of what you want yourself to be and how you’re going to work on it.

#tuliptic #🌷#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #tarot reading #general tarot reading #i've been wanting to do something aura related for a long while #although this reading is more of like describing who you are instead of aura #i think #i have no idea how this turned out to be but i do hope you guys enjoyed the reading #cheers

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easy-there-leftovers · 1 year ago

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I See You, Darling (3)

[Astarion x reader] As I mentioned in a previous post, this came along surprisingly easier than the last one. The same can’t be said about the quality though maybe– sorry for that. :,DDD|Word count: 2.6k.|

Content Warnings: Mentions of cooking, handling knives, blood, one sex joke (lol), the normal warnings that you’d associate with the game

Part 2 here!!

Next Part here!!

As an outsider to most of everyone’s problems, you find your place by helping in whatever way you can. Even if that may be at the expense of your own comfort, but at least it’s been fun so far.

Alternatively: Reader can't catch a break from anything, can they?

————━─━��───༺༻────━─━————

Being resident camp caretaker was surprising, for lack of a better term. You were away from the stresses of technology, corporate assholes, and disappointing family with your choice to pursue unpractical careers. Instead living the “cottagecore lifestyle” of foraging for food and cooking with a cauldron that those from the digital world claimed to be the best. What they failed to mention were the incessant pests coming in to nibble through rucksacks if you were not careful, and the occasional swarms of ants or flies coming in to nip at your flesh.

The experience was a mixed bag, so it would seem. But the tired smiles that the group would give you when you greet them with a warm and filling meal was always a comfort that you would have.

And it would seem they needed it now more especially than ever.

Your band of misfits planned to venture out and defeat the goblins at their camp in order to aid the tieflings’ journey to Baulder’s Gate. Per your instruction, you convinced the more solipsistic members of the benefits of eradicating the sect. Namely, they wouldn’t hinder you as much in the future if they were taken care of. Hence your plan to slightly increase the amount of portions for supper tonight.

By twilight, you had a good broth steeping in your cauldron. The camp having returned just a few moments prior from an earlier excursion. You were making a pottage that the others have expressed their enjoyment for. A stew of sorts that you had made when you had quite the number of items that would have spoiled before consumption had you not done anything about it. A mixture of fruits and meat, stewed in a consomme of a pig’s head and various mushroom caps.

This time around, you’ll be using fresher ingredients to hopefully lift their spirits.

As you’re chopping up fruits, you think about all that’s happened to you and possible explanations for why your character suddenly ceased to exist in order to make room for you. What’s more is that no matter how many nights pass, you never end up waking from your dream. Which you fear is lasting longer than your usual ones.

Your working theory is that whatever force, be it magic or fate, tethering you to this world is also responsible for removing Tav. Astarion claimed that he couldn’t remember the finer details when you had confronted him. And so you settled with that hypothesis. That like how a thread that unravels opens a seam in a garment, a new thread must be used to darn the cloth together again.

You laugh at the disgustingly poetic analogy you created in your head. You fear that you’re becoming more and more deranged as—

“My, aren’t you busy?” The intrusive voice causes the knife to slip out of your hand a bit, thankfully only cutting off a portion of your index finger’s nail. Your shoulders, that were raised in alarm, release their tension after feeling the sudden chill leave your body.

“Astarion,” Exasperated, you put the knife down on the cutting board to catch your breath for a while.

“I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped sneaking up on me when I’m doing something dangerous.”

The high-elf offers a mischievous smile in response. “Very sorry, pet. But it’s hardly my fault when you’ve barely been paying attention to me.” There’s regret in his words, but not in his tone.

Because while perhaps it’s an odd interest, he enjoys hearing the quickened pace of your heart. The pulse getting louder, as it stays that way for longer.

“I’d feel sorry for doing so if you were too, but you’re not.”

You laugh out, breath still shaky but steadying slowly, as you pick up your knife again.

“I heard you’re part of the encampment that’s finishing off the goblins by midmorn.” Chopping the rest of the fruits, you feel his presence move from behind you to off to your side so you can see him from your peripherals.

“Hm? Yes. Although I would have preferred if we didn’t do this at all. It’s too much work, and the goblins could be entertaining! Killing useful spoils seems like an awful waste.”

This must be the reason why he approached you, to persuade you to call off the hunt. And his unfading smile supports that thought. When you voice said thought, it earns you a playful scoff.

“Don’t you have anything else on your mind other than the parasite lounging in it?”

The mood is light as you say this, the banter welcomed by you both.

And as you continue to converse, a few eyes begin to follow the two of you. They’ve never really seen Astarion interact with you for this long, at least not away from your private spaces. And even less without hushed voices. The interlocution is definitely a welcome spectacle to them.

“On my honor, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust.” He says, proudly. Gesturing to himself with one hand, and the other held high like he was swearing an oath.

Your closed mouth drops into frown, eyes wide, and your eyebrows skew upwards. A very undignified, but small, squeak coming from the back of your throat. You swore you heard someone groan in disappointment from far away too.

You know full well that the look of shock that you were sporting was by no means attractive, but the flagrant revelation, though not at all out of character, was shocking to have directed towards you. You’ve been trying to romance the elven vampire with your character, only to end up nowhere. Therefore you are completely unsure if the dialogue he was spewing was completely a figment of your imagination, or is, indeed, canon.

The elf in question has seen this expression of yours before. Quite often, too. And while he doesn’t think it a, “pleasant sight,” it is rather… charming to him.

Whether it be on purpose or not, people have the tendency to be on guard around him, preserving any twitch and sound that could give them away to themselves. Not that much had ever evaded him before with his naturally cunning behavior. But this clearly unscripted response, with the blatant confusion swimming in your eyes, is a rather refreshing sight to see.

“I see–” you clear your throat to lower your voice back to its normal octave. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to uh, bring those thoughts into fruition! Uh–,” You slide the rest of the cut fruits off of your cutting board and into the stew.

“Is there anything else you wanted to tell me? Something I should know?” You turn to face him. He laughs at first, but then his brows furrow in question, as if he did have something to say and forgot about it or thinks it is no longer an appropriate time to ask. He shakes his head and says something along the lines of, “letting you do all the hard work” and returns to his tent.

But you are not left alone for long as another member of your little ragtag team joins you to ask about dinner. To which you ask them for which meat would be better to toss into it.

—————————

After dinner, your little rapport concerning the plan and new findings with everyone is adjourned. Some thanked you before they left, and others simply walked away. From what you have learned from them, the Archdruid that was taken prisoner by the goblins was named, “Halsin.” He was a topic of interest as they said he might be able to aid you in your search for moonrise and understanding the Mindflayer worms.

Wyll had also approached you alone after dinner and offhandedly mentioned a dead boar being on the road. He had planned to return to camp with it if it could have been useful, but he had claimed that the animal had been unnervingly light. As if half of its weight was no longer there despite seemingly just keeling over for no reason.

You take note of that in one of your many journals, including additional information about the Archdruid and their kind in general. The book appearing more and more like the game’s quest booklet, with the exception of a few crossouts and colored ink to emphasize each quest’s urgency and relevance to finding a cure. When you successfully rescue the druid of the grove, it seems you will have to move out quite soon after, so you fixed up your pack just a bit to make it easier later on.

You look around, everyone seems to be in their respective areas. Doing whatever it is they usually do with the exception of Astarion. Though he has been known to either sneak off or hide away from time to time in his tent, so you think nothing of it.

You return to the communal chest, tallying up the remaining supplies and inspecting the wares. You sort the tradeable objects in one rucksack and appraise its worth. The chest also has pieces of gold, some that others have placed, and others you picked up and added. You prefer to let the others keep what they think is valuable to them, and only place what they want to share in the vessel.

If the party’s gold ever runs out, you think that the rucksack is worth a few nights of food when you travel out again. Assured by this knowledge, you placed your writing materials back in, closed the chest, and turned in for the night.

Maybe this time, you’ll wake up. But you also don’t really want to. Not just yet.

—————————————

As you slept, you wondered about the longevity of your knowledge of the media. You hadn’t finished the game, and although you’ve accomplished a fair bit of it, you worry about how you will face the events to come. One of the only reasons why you haven’t flinched so much at the terrors that occurred was because you had anticipated them. Braced yourself for the dangers ahead.

You fear what might happen when you no longer have that power at your disposal.

Perhaps it's the worry, perhaps it's the stiff, compact ground that you have yet to be accustomed to sleep on despite the bedroll, or perhaps it's the presence of something suddenly cool that stirs you awake.

But what you did not expect was Astarion’s face hovering over yours to be the reason. Fangs bared, and ready to bite. Your eyes go wide and you let out a small gasp, hands moving up in a gesture akin to clawing at yourself.

The elf realizes that you’re awake now and he curses. Moving away as you scramble upright just like you did all those nights ago. The look of genuine fear at the prospect of being bitten is apparent on your face, and he feels almost guilty to be greeted with it.

“Please, I wasn’t going to hurt you— I just needed, well, blood.” He says it in a panic. Worried that you might run off, losing his only sure chance, and possibly enraging the rest of the camp.

In this moment, you realized the error in your ways. Astarion had been hunting nearly every other night in the same area. And if you were progressing through the events like how the game did, he couldn’t have had the time nor energy to venture too far after feeding from most of the creatures in the vicinity.

‘The exsanguinated boar…’ You remember.

“You’ve been feeding on animals for the past few nights, haven’t you?”

“It seems like word got around then.” Although unknowingly, he’s referencing what Wyll delivered to you earlier in the night.

“I’m not some monster, I feed on boars, deer, kobolds– whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now. And with the damned excursion,” He stops himself, complaining is only doing worse for his condition.

“It’s not enough. I feel so…weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” You’re conflicted. You had no problem offering yourself as your character for him to feed on, but even witnessing that through a disconnected screen was enough to make you feel uncomfortable imagining it. You care about him, want to give him what he deserves, but this…

What’s more is that you know what he’s saying is necessary, not at all overstating how dire his need to satiate his hunger is, making it all the more difficult.

He needs to convince you, if he wants to continue on, that is. Without the presence of the illithid, he resorts to more practical means of doing so. Similar to what he did to many.

Noticing the slight tremor of your hands, he takes the chance to slowly kneel down on your bedroll. Closing the distance between you. He takes your hand, now rougher from the work you do, and meets your shaken gaze with his dark eyes.

“Please. I only need a taste, I swear.” He had meant to tell you before dinner, had he not felt the eyes of the others on the two of you. This discovery is not lost on you. He needs you specifically. And you realize it's out of convenience because you’re an expendable resource. If you pass, the group can venture on, but he also still needs you alive for whatever reason. He can’t have the others finding out, not until they trust him.

He needs you to trust him. And this is the only way you can help him in this moment.

With that, you strengthen your resolve.

“I…I trust you, Astarion. But no more than what you need.” A dangerous bet, but you hope it would be worth it.

“Really? I–”

“Can I trust you on that?” The shock on his face fades, and he agrees.

“Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?” You lay down, preparing yourself to faint during the process and allowing your blood to flow throughout your body. He observes the rapid movement of your eyes as he drapes himself above you. Your sight flitting from anywhere but him and then returning all the same. No doubt that you fear being at his mercy.

He feels almost sorry that you have to do this for him.

So he graces you with what mercy he can give.

The bite is quick. You would have felt the flesh of your neck parting for him, had he not done so. You feel tears prick at your eyes and start to feel the area from your neck and upwards go cold.

A momentary, sharp pain, that lulls to a chilling numbness in what seems like a matter of seconds.

You feel his body start to grow warmer at your expense and you feel satisfied knowing that you could help him.

When he doesn't stop, you start to worry.

Your breath catches in staccato beats, pulse quickening in tandem. You try to stop him, hands coming up to push or tug, but the heavy sensation that washes over you only permits them to find purchase on his form.

You try to speak, but it seems as if the common tongue does not reach him.

Your mind goes into overdrive, all of a sudden it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore and genuine fear courses through your veins.

You need him to stop, and you try to think of more efficient ways of doing so.

But your mind starts slowing as well. The pain has certainly faded, but the presence of the vampire at your throat reminds you in case you’ve forgotten.

As a last ditch effort, you try to use whatever might appeal to him, to break him out of the trance that he was in from finally replenishing himself.

“Isalhal–” One of the few Elvish words you recalled.

The effort thankfully makes him pull back in shock, stopping him. Your eyes finally close, thankful for the reprieve you're finally granted. You hear a distant, “thank you,” and a more distant “shit” before rest takes over.

You worry about waking up tomorrow.

But for now, you’re thankful that Astarion will be able to fight well.

For himself and for everyone else’s sake.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, and @auszimbo for asking to be tagged!!

#astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #aware!astarion #bg3 x reader isekai(?)#bg3 x reader

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kingprinceleo · 5 months ago

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Silhouette Timeline Master Post !

Silo is from my 1000 Years Bound Au- (Summary) (Horror AU) 500 years into the future, Miles finds himself at the mysterious kingdom of Solar Sanctum, ruled by the long absent King Shadow. Shadow invites Miles to stay as a collaboration of great minds to try and solve the murky state their world has fallen into. It isnt long before Miles starts to realize Shadow is no longer the man he remembers, and starts to get tangled up in his web of madness.

----

Silo is one of Shadow's little oopsies ! She was meant to be a trial experiment, bioengineered during one of his many attempts to bring order back to the planet. Shadow completely tunnel visioned by his own vision for his work, failed to comprehend the burden that accompanied bringing a creature to life. He succeeded in creating a living breathing being. And it horrifies him. (cw for almost violence against a child)

Not too long after his meltdown, the Black Arm part of his brain overrides his disdain for this creature, and for a short while, he fulfills the role of being a parent to her. Creating a nest and taking care of the babys every need.

Once he returns to his normal mindset he starts to neglect this kid again, he refuses to acknowledge its his daughter, and even a person at all. All he sees her as is an experiment he wants nothing else to do with while he moves on to other research. Most of the responsibilities fall on Valentine and Tails. Tails is suspicious and frustrated with Shadow, unable to get any answers out of him about Silos origins. More often than not, Valentine is the one handling Silhouette, sneaking out of the castle and bringing her to the edge of the kingdom where an apple orchid resides. She spends time learning about taking care of children from the wolf Crisp, a widowed mother of three. Shadow usually never notices the childs absence, and doesnt really care when he does. And when he does care, its usually because hes doing something like this:

They also start figuring out Silos abilities, being able to turn into a black liquid and taking whatever shape she wants. Shes also near silent. No one is sure if she took on Shadows immortality yet...

Plot stuff happens whatever,,, Shadow takes a huge L

Shadows physically weak and incredibly frail, he cant move at all for weeks, eventually getting a custom walking chair. Major loss of chaos energy from his body from overloading, now any minor usage of chaos energy can fuck him UP.

In his eyes, hed fallen from godhood, now abandoned to be a pathetic regular person. And now word is getting out around the kingdom. He cant hide behind being all powerful, he needs to start at least pretending to act normal real fast. And that comes with acknowledging Oh hey . theres like . a princess by the way. his daughter who he is totally raising.

Valentine needs to be at Shadows side around the clock for a couple years, so Silhouette spends a lot of time at home in the castle, usually being very clingy to Shadow, she loves to nestle into his collars and his quills

This continues even when Shadow starts setting her to the side again to focus on rebuidling the kingdom. Now a toddler, shes getting sent off to go hang out with Crisps family pretty often, they become like a whole family to her. Despite that, Silhouette often sneaks out of the house to walk all the way back from the edge of the kingdom to go be with her father again. Shadow starts sending his Shadow Eye, Baja to accompany her so she stops doing that.

As she gets older she starts understanding the expectations Shadow is holding over her head. She is the offspring of the Ultimate Lifeform, and he expects something made of his own blood to be nothing short of perfect, an exact copy of his grace and excellence. At the same time, however, she is never supposed to surpass him. He plans to remain the Ultimate Lifeform until the end of time.

Perhaps she would have considered his cruel edge and bitter tongue normal affection had she not spent years with a family who's shown her what love looks like. She appreciates them so much, but she cant help but try to desperately claw out the same type of affection from Shadow. It deeply pains her and stirs resentment for her half siblings whenever her father comes over to the orchid, either to pick her up or at the request of Val, and she watches Shadow interact with the other children. He views them as lesser, but because of this, the lack of expectation for them, he comes off as a little kinder. Tolerating things he would never allow Silo to do in his presence, coldly reprimanding her in the hollowing silence of their black arms hive mind. He trained a lot of her emotional responses out of her, leaving her with a dead expression most of the time.

As a teenager, the noise in the back of her mind gets louder, deadset on destruction. Part of her wants to kill Shadow. Shes afraid of that side of herself. She starts acting out, trying to distract him from his work to get his attention, positive or negative attention she doesnt care anymore. It starts small but as he keeps turning a blind eye, expecting Val to handle it, she is the head guard after all. Gradually she increases the intensity, committing real crimes in the kingdom and testing how far she needs to push that old man, from stealing to committing arson. Shes willing to tear this whole kingdom apart if it means Shadow will come and stop her.

Eventually, Shadow does! Additionally, Shadows in a much better mental and physical state than he was years ago, where he was genuinely at his worst. After a lot of talks with Miles, Val, and Crisp and realizing the worst parts of himself are being manifested in this child before his eyes. He goes to finally give her what she wants.

Hes still not a great parent, but now he puts more effort in, working with Silo to get her behavior in check, being overall more available and open to her.

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #shadow the hedgehog #sonic au #1000 years bound #silhouette the needlemouse #sfs

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pinkbewwy-milk · 3 months ago

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based on starsandskies' promp list.

Day 6: Thigh Riding ft. Bowser + shark!Reader.

warnings: size difference, heat cycles, bit degradation, mild dom/sub dynamics.

You were, by human standards, quite tall once you transformed into your natural, shark form. Stretched out and not counting your tail, you were about two meters tall. Your body thickened as well, giving a rather curvy appearance to your already beautiful figure. Any man, both human and of your own race, would feel a little intimidated by such a creature.

By koopa standards, particularly royalty, you were still quite small.

Bowser was massive. Even with your increase in size, the king could still manipulate you as if you were one of Junior’s plushies. He adored you in whatever form you decided to take, but he had to admit that his favourite was probably the one that made you grow so much. True, you were still small compared to him, but the increase suited you perfectly.

He particularly liked how much your hips widened. And he liked it even more when he had you like this, sitting on his thick thigh, desperate and panting.

You, like all your species, had cycles of going into heat. During those periods you changed to your natural state, and your sexual need increased so much that even Bowser couldn't keep up. Not only because of fucking you and all the energy he spent on it, but also because of time —He was, at the end of the day, a king, and as such he had responsibilities and tasks to attend.

Luckily for both of you, you were perfectly capable of satisfying yourself with him even without his active participation. One of those ways had to do with what you did at those moments: Moving back and forth over the muscles of the king's leg, hands planted in front of you to hit the perfect angle to stimulate all your privates. Privates that were not covered by anything, the contact being natural and, by then, already quite fluid thanks to the accumulated juices.

While Bowser did his math and read the new treaties and commandments, you tended to your own business right there. Usually you were silent, aware within your remaining mind that the king was working; other times, you just couldn't contain yourself. You cursed and moaned the koopa's name non-stop, forcing Bowser to look away from the papers and at you.

God, he didn't know if it was the hormones or whatever was in the air that smelled so good, but Bowser swore that you looked more beautiful than usual. The soft scales on your face and ears were flushed, iridescent pupils dilated and staring blankly. The tip of your tongue hung out between your fangs, a goofy smile on your lips. Your breasts bounced in rhythm with your hips, putting on a show for the king. You moaned unintelligible things tangled with his name, and the tail behind you was swishing wildly.

You were almost done. Bowser already recognized the signs of your climax. It was perhaps the fifth time you had done it that afternoon.

“B-Bowser…”, you moaned, voice louder and clearer. The koopa gave you his well-known arrogant smile, and without needing another word, he brought his claw to the small of your back. With the strength that only a being like him could possess, he pushed your body while lifting his leg, practically crushing you against him. You squealed in joy, hips moving even more frantically. Bowser soon took control, though, pushing his claw harder and making his leg bounce. You were now almost lying on him, hands grabbing your tits and pinching your nipples to add to the stimulation. The king laughed.

“Ya really are a bitch in heat, huh?”, he sneered, adding a circular sway to the equation. He moved, leaning down until he reached your ear. “C’mon, my slutty princess, cum on your king's thigh”.

It didn't take much longer for you to finish. Your body tensed, tail curling inward, mouth wide open in a moan that struggled to be silent. Your cunt contracted around nothing, expelling fluids that went to mix with the already existing ones, that scent of that something increasing. Your eyes almost rolled back inside your head, and with a sigh, you let yourself fall onto the turtle's abdomen.

For a while there was only your laboured breathing. Bowser stroked your back carefully, as if trying to calm your body. He knew he would have to return to his work soon, and your need would return as well, so he tried to dedicate those moments to you. God knows your heat came with plenty of emotional sensitivity, too, and Bowser preferred a you crying of pleasure rather than a you crying because he hadn't said goodnight.

He sighed. You were going to be the death of him one of these days.

#kinktober 2024 #super mario bros #bowser #reader insert #bowser x reader #smut

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dottores · 2 years ago

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HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, dottore is an asshole.

notes: monch i had fun w this one, this was not supposed to be the chapter but i had a spur of the moment idea that i had to run with.

AN INEXORABLE DEATH

“And what of the boy? The Eleventh seat has been empty long enough. It’s about time that Scapino has been replaced.”

Dottore pressed his lips together as Pulcinella pushed the subject for the fourth time, extending the meeting much longer than it needed to last. They had been there for hours already going back and forth about funding matters, upcoming missions, and the long term plan of when they would finally start going after the gnoses. Dottore was irritated--he had been irritated since early morning when he returned to his lab only to find that his experiment had failed--but now he was even more irritated because he should have just sent one of his damned segments to deal with this.

“We are not putting a child in the Eleventh seat,” Signora sighed, shaking her head as she looked back at Pierro. “Are we done here? I have business to attend to.”

“A child who survived the Abyss,” Pulcinella retorted sharply. “Can you say the same, Fair Lady? If I recall correctly, the abyssal energy was too intense for you to handle.”

Signora’s gaze darkened, lips twisting downward. Across from him, Dottore noticed how Pantalone's expression lightened, a smile gracing his lips as he watched the fight that was about to break out between the Fifth and Eighth.

Dottore thought this was all inconsequential. He had an important matter to bring up to Pantalone before he returned to his labs. It was nearly midday already--he had an entire research summary to get through before Lambda arrived early morning tomorrow and he wanted to get restarted on what he was doing last night to try to figure out where it had gone wrong. He didn’t care about the Eleventh seat or who would be…

Dottore’s thoughts trailed off as Pulcinella’s words echoed through his head, a child who survived the Abyss. Not many mortals could withstand the volatile energy in the Abyss… much less a child. Dottore’s interest was piqued, eyeing Pulcinella as he wondered where exactly he found the boy and what made him so different.

His mind raced with possibilities… Maybe he would be able to find out if he was brought into the higher ranks.

“Perhaps it would be worthwhile then,” Dottore spoke up, nearly rolling his eyes when he noticed how surprised Signora and Pulcinella looked at his interruption--he usually never spoke up in these meetings unless directly addressed. “The boy could be of use, I’d like to study why he was able to survive the Abyss.”

“You will not involve him in your twisted experiments, Dottore,” Pulcinella said. Dottore turned his attention to the other Harbinger, noting the defensiveness lacing his tone.

“I can involve any one of you in my twisted experiments, mayor, he is not exempt. Her Majesty has given me complete autonomy in my research should I think the results could give us the edge in the coming war. You would do well to remember that,” Dottore said coldly.

Pierro leveled a steady look onto each of them before shifting his gaze back across the long table to Capitano, “Enough. The Captain will observe the boy from afar, he will decide whether or not he is worthy of the Eleventh seat.”

Capitano nodded his head in response, “You will show me where the boy trains after the meeting, Pulcinella. I will have an answer by the end of the day so we can put this matter to rest.”

“If unruly behavior proves to be an issue after his appointment, I can always… adjust it,” Arlecchino said cryptically, the red x’s in her eyes burning as she looked over at Pierro, the corners of her lips turning upward.

“Keep your tricks to yourself, Arlecchino,” Pulcinella said. “I will keep the boy in line.”

“If you say so,” Arlecchino murmured as she leaned back in her seat. Next to her, Columbina let out an airy laugh as if she were amused by the whole situation.

“So be it,” Pierro finally said, waving his hand. “This meeting is adjourned.”

Dottore rose to his feet, getting Pantalone’s attention and nodding his chin toward the door before he turned on his heel to leave the room.

As soon as he was in the halls, he could breathe again. Dottore could see a winter storm brewing in the distance, the clouds gray and swirling dangerously over the peaks of the northern mountain range. The wind was already beginning to pick up, he could see the banners whipping around in the palace’s courtyard and new recruits struggling to push against the wind to get back into the palace from where they were training.

“I assume that nod meant you have something to say to me,” Pantalone’s voice was amused as he finally strolled out of the meeting, a thin smile gracing his lips as he eyed Dottore. “If this is about the decrease in your funding, there’s nothing I can do about that until we’ve dealt with the situation in Morepesok. The Triglav have somehow managed to rope the port masters into making trade with Port Ormos and Dornman Port more difficult for us. I’m leaving in a few days to handle it myself if Arlecchino’s spiders prove useless.”

Dottore frowned, he hadn’t gotten to all of the letters left for him at his desk, he had been too busy finalizing a report. “My funding has decreased?” he asked, incensed.

Pantalone’s smile tightened, the corners of his eyes crinkling in annoyance as he realized that Dottore hadn’t yet known about the funding issue. “Yes.”

“Why is the Triglav still a variable? I vouched for you so that they could no longer get in the way of my research,” Dottore demanded, voice cold and sharp. “You were supposed to take care of this issue years ago.”

Pantalone’s eye twitched. “I wish that ridding an organization of influence was as easy as you make it seem, much less one that has been embedded in Snezhnayan politics and society for several centuries,” he said dryly. “What is it that you wanted then, if it wasn’t about the funding?”

Dottore was not amused.

Pantalone exhaled, eyes glancing out to the courtyard for a second before motioning for Dottore to follow him. Dottore frowned, glancing once more at the brutal winds that were nearly tearing the banners off of their hooks as he followed after him.

As soon as he stepped outside, Dottore frowned. The coldness didn’t bother him too much but he didn’t like the way the wind and rain felt against his skin, stinging his cheeks over and over again. Pantalone did not seem affected by the weather, instead making his way down a path toward the overhang on the opposite side of the courtyard.

“Is it about them?” Pantalone asked as they walked. Dottore could barely hear him over the howling wind and he realized that was exactly why Pantalone had led them out there--to prevent unwanted ears from overhearing. His gaze drew back to where they had been standing, where Arlecchino and Brighella were finally stepping out of the meeting room. “Hm? Do you finally want me to look for them?”

Pantalone looked pointedly at Dottore’s thumb and Dottore caught onto what he was saying. His lips flattened in annoyance.

“No,” he said firmly. Pantalone’s eyes gleamed at the sharp, quick answer, Dottore nearly rolled his eyes as he waited for the incoming dig.

“You didn’t even pause to think… it’s been a few years, I’m sure the fourth phase has started by now… does she not reach out to you?” Pantalone smiled thinly, he was mocking Dottore. “Is that why it's such a sensitive subject?”

“She does,” Dottore said--he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to indulge Pantalone’s bait.

Every morning, every night, and usually during the day too, he wanted to add. The fourth phase had begun a few months back and she had immediately taken advantage of it, asking him all sorts of questions, telling him good morning and good night and asking how his day went. She was relentless, he would’ve respected the persistence had it not been driving him into a wall.

Dottore never responded.

Sometimes he was tempted when he found himself leaving the labs early and his arm was stinging lightly, indicating that she was reaching out again and an odd feeling began stirring in his chest, something akin to longing that he couldn’t afford to give in to. He had already let her affect too much and he couldn’t risk it getting worse.

He had been able to separate himself from her almost completely after receiving that word from her two years ago but his resistance was faltering now that the fourth phase had begun. No one had ever shown any sort of interest in him like this before and it was making him uncomfortable--he was used to being alone, only having his segments for company and even then, he sent them away most of the time. He didn’t like that someone else was trying to attach themself to him.

He needed to cut it off but he just couldn’t bring himself to. He caught himself toying with the words late at night: stop asking me questions, you are bothering me, I have no interest in a soulmate, I don’t need a soulmate, what is it going to take for you to finally understand that I don’t care for you? That I don’t want you? But every time he was going to bring himself to transfer the words to her, he preoccupied himself with something else--a project, a report, a random letter he remembered he never responded to. He knew deep down that he was just distracting himself so that he didn’t have to admit that he couldn’t send those words to her but he refused to acknowledge it.

“Fix this,” Dottore said, his voice harsh and cruel. His temper was waning and being pressed about his soulmate was forcing him to face an unpleasant reality--his own weakness. Pantalone looked taken aback at his words, Dottore continued, turning the topic back to the previous subject. “You understand who we are and you understand what you’re here to do. The only reason you were given the Ninth seat was to make the political scene on the homefront more manageable so we can finally make plays for the gnoses in other nations. Use the resources we’ve given you to do so or we will find someone that will.”

Pantalone stared at him, expressionless. The faux smile that usually graced his lips was gone, replaced by a cold, empty look, “I said I was handling it, did I not?”

Dottore only let out a quiet noise, one of dismissal, not bothering to spare him another look as he turned on his heel to walk back into the palace. What he had wanted from Pantalone could be handled another day--now, he just wanted to get back to his lab and finish his work before Lambda’s arrival because he knew that would be a headache in itself.

Walking down the hall, Dottore withheld the urge to slip off his mask and press his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He felt like a broken record, he was stuck in a cycle that he couldn’t tear free of and as much as he wanted to point the blame at her and the gods, he knew fault laid partly on himself as well.

Because he was weak. Dottore was a proud man, an arrogant one. He knew who he was and what he was capable of, he believed himself to be above mortal and yet he still laid chained to human emotion. It was hubris that blinded him into believing that he would not be affected by the unwelcome development of the thread years ago and it was hubris still that led him to be incapable of admitting that acceptance of the bond might logically be the best route to take.

He could not admit to himself that there was no way to sever the thread because that meant years of research were for naught. He could not admit to himself that he was better off accepting the bond because that meant that over a decade of denial and centuries of learning how to view his lack of a soulmate as a strength rather than a weakness were a waste.

He just couldn’t.

But that was the way of science, a part of him argued, a failed hypothesis must be adjusted into a new one. You adapt and continue.

“Doctor, there you are,” a familiar, whimsical voice hummed from behind him. “I was looking for you.”

Dottore glanced over his shoulder, suspicion pricking at each and every one of his cells as his eyes fell upon his fellow Harbinger.

Nothing ever good came from being sought out by the Damslette.

“What do you need?”

“Nothing,” Columbina said softly, “I just wanted to see it up close, that’s all.”

Dottore’s brows furrowed beneath his mask, trying to figure out what she meant, but he felt cold as Columbina reached out, gloved fingers brushing against the red thread that only he and his soulmate were supposed to be able to see.

“It’s so bright,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen one this bright before, your bond must be strong.”

Dottore’s lips parted as if to speak but no words left them. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say--did he want to demand to know how she could see the thread? Or deny that the bond was strong? He hadn’t even spoken a word to the girl, how could the bond be strong?

“You see it?” he finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him as always. In all of his research, he had never heard of someone being able to see other peoples’ threads before.

Columbina only smiled, face turning up toward him but her eyes were still slid shut peacefully. “I see everything,” she replied, voice airy and cryptic. “The stars and the sky, all of the ties that bind, I can see it all.”

Dottore felt unsettled. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt unsettled before but Columbina wasn’t even looking at him, not really at least, but somehow he felt as if she could see right through the mask he wore, peering deep into the soul that he denied to see him wholly and he felt stripped and bare of all of his armor. He had known that the Damslette caused a lot of unnerving feelings throughout their ranks, her presence tended to make their subordinates and even some of the lower-ranked Harbingers uncomfortable, but he had never experienced it for himself, not like this.

“I would like to meet her when she comes here,” Columbina finally said before continuing down the hall. “Have a good day, doctor.”

Dottore stared after her and then down at where the thread was tied around his thumb, too bewildered to even realize that she had said when and not if.

You figured that he was just busy--the same thing you told yourself whenever he ignored your goodnight tugs and good morning tugs. He was simply too busy to respond to you whenever you asked how his day was, when you told him good morning and good night, when you wished him luck with whatever he was working on.

You tried not to let it deter you.

He was just busy, that was all.

You let out a sigh as you sat down at your father’s old desk. The wood was dusted over and the papers were scattered around just as he left it. No one had dared enter the room since his death three years ago--not a maid, not your mother, not even yourself. This was your first time setting foot in his office since the last time he had called you in there himself.

It was a bit messier than he usually kept it, you noticed that his coat stand was knocked over sideways in the furthest corner of the room and there were a few coins strewn against the floor next to it. His coat was still dangling off it--if only barely--and your throat felt tight as you rose to your feet, making your way over to the coat.

You took in a shaky breath as you reached out to grab it.

As soon as your fingers brushed the wool, you drew back.

Maybe you should just leave, you thought to yourself, glancing back to the door, considering just trying again another day. You thought you had been ready--it had been three years since his death, you thought you had been ready to start clearing things out of his office. The court officials had been gracious as to not rush you into it, giving you all of the time you needed to mourn and process his death, but you knew that the clock was ticking. Your father was dead and there had been many promotions in the past few years to keep the growing dissent in the city at bay, more space was needed, your father’s office was needed.

You exhaled again slowly, grabbing the coat so you could fold it and place it in a pile at the door for you to bring back to your room, but as soon as you got hold of the coat, you smelt him. Even after all of the years, it still smelt like him. Your throat felt swollen and your vision blurred as you clutched your father’s jacket close to your chest. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine him there in the room with you, patting your back as he told you to sit down and help him with his paperwork.

You used to hate it, rolling your eyes and grumbling whenever he passed you some of the documents to read over and summarize for him to lighten his workload. He claimed that it was good practice for when you took over from him eventually and maybe he was right, but you only ever cared about your words and learning more about them because you wanted to get to know your soulmate better.

You regretted it. Now your father was gone and you were left with a soulmate who didn’t seem to give a shit about your existence. And it had all been so sudden, the same day you had turned down his request for you to come to his office so you could go to the gardens and read. You had noticed he looked a bit under the weather but you figured he was just exhausted from the long day at court he had the day before.

And then he was dead, just like that.

One of the officers of the city police found him collapsed on his floor. The city’s head coroner claimed it was a heart attack. They said that nothing could’ve been done to prevent it. You weren’t so sure, all you could think about were the what-ifs and the could’ve beens.

What if you had gone with him when he asked? What could’ve happened if you had been there? Would you’ve been able to get him help? Or would you just have had to witness it happening first hand?

It was all you could think about, all the time. You rarely left your room, you couldn’t even bring yourself to sit in the library because it just made you sad, reminding you of all of the hours you spent there after blowing off your father to figure out what some stupid word on your forearm meant.

You were lonely. You were so goddamn lonely that you didn’t even know what to do with yourself besides mull over all of the possibilities. You felt like there was a hole ripping through your chest, an ache that never went away. You didn’t know if it ever would go away.

You took in a ragged breath, biting back a sob as you tried to calm yourself down. You failed.

You thought you might hate your soulmate. Or maybe not hate, resent was a better word for it. So much of your life had been centered around him, influenced by him--your whole upbringing and being taught to hide such an integral part of yourself was because he was in Snezhnaya; your lack of friends growing up was because you were forced to hide the fact that you had a soulmate and obviously, there must be something wrong with you if Celestia didn’t bless you; you spent hours on hours, days on days in the library trying to understand him for when the two of you finally met; and even now, you tried to distract yourself from the damning reality of your family and the mess it had become by trying to talk to him and he ignored you.

He ignored you.

There were only so many times you could convince yourself that he was just busy. How busy could he be if he couldn’t even say hello, if he couldn’t tell you good morning, if he couldn’t tell you goodnight or tell you how his day was when you asked. You thought maybe that he wasn’t receiving his words but you had done so much research trying to figure out if that was a possibility and there had been no known instances of it.

He was ignoring you--it was the logical, rational answer but you just couldn’t wrap your head around it, you couldn’t face the truth because then it really did mean you wasted your life focusing on someone that probably didn’t even care about you.

Calm down, you told yourself. Calm down.

But it was hard.

You felt so alone all the time. You had no friends. Your mother was constantly busy with court affairs. Your stepfather kept Sylvie and Elliot busy, you barely even saw them in passing anymore. The only one to really reach out to you to see how you were doing was your grandfather but even he was run to the ground with his duty as warden of the Black Cells.

You tried to distract yourself by trying to make conversation with him, your soulmate, but it was futile. He never responded. No matter how hard you tried.

Your hands were shaky as you finally let your father’s coat drop from your chest, fingers trembling as you folded the coat to place it in the box you had set up near the door. You had to figure out what all you were going to bring back to your room--you figured you needed to get all of the papers out of here. You didn’t know if any of them had sensitive information and you didn’t want to risk anything falling into the wrong hands.

You tried to focus as you dropped down to your hands and knees but your mind felt muddled. As you started stacking them in a neat pile, you caught sight of your father’s bookshelf from the corner of your eye. Right in the middle was a familiar set of books with a silver and gold binding, one that you hadn’t seen since you were a child.

Longing, sadness, guilt--you couldn’t tell what the feeling stirring up your chest was as you rose back to your feet to make your way over to the bookcase, body moving on autopilot. A small smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the six volumes lined up of Princess Mina and the Fallen Nation, the old book collection that your father used to read to you before bed before your stepfather had arrived in Fontaine and your father moved back to the city.

Even years later, he always laughed with your grandfather over how you used to force him to read the fifth volume about the argument between the Princess Mina and the samurai over and over and over again, to the point that he knew how to recite it word for word. Your mother scolded him every time--said the series was by no means acceptable for a child--but he only ever winked at you and promised that this would be the last time. A lie, of course, and your mother knew it, if the way she rolled her eyes had anything to say about it.

You wondered if he kept the set lined up to remind him of the good days--the days before your stepfather.

You reached for the fifth volume, your smile fading a bit when you noticed that it was lighter than you expected. Your brows furrowed as you opened the book, realizing that the majority of the pages had been cut out in the shape of a square--a hidden pocket to hide treasures, just like how the Princess had done in the sixth volume to hide her plans from the samurai.

Your chest felt heavy as you reached for what was laying inside: a letter in your father’s handwriting, stained with faded droplets of blood, and a Fatui insignia.

“This is getting out of hand.”

Dottore looked up as a familiar voice rang loud and icy throughout the lab. His eyes drew up to a familiar form, one identical to his own--the Lambda segment had finally arrived. Dottore placed his pen down on the lab table, raising his eyebrows as he waited for him to continue.

“The other segments are out of control, not that you would know considering you sent them away for me to deal with,” Lambda told him, placing down the bag he was carrying on the lab table as he stood across from Dottore. “The younger segments are haywire over the thread, they haven’t calmed down once since it first appeared and now even some of the older segments are starting to become more aggravated--Delta and Rho are pushing on behalf of Iota and Gamma. Epsilon has made his opinion well known since he got word of it. Even Theta has started to ask more questions. I will not deal with it anymore.”

“You will do whatever I order you to do, Lambda. Don’t forget what you are,” Dottore warned. “Sit down, I called you here to report on your research not to hear your opinion.”

“Is that not why I was created?” Lambda did not back down, not a hint of emotion seeped through the vacant expression painted on his face. Red eyes void of any sort of feeling or weakness, any sort of hesitation. “An objective perspective, untainted by human vices and folly to prevent us from falling victim to them so it does not affect our goals. I am telling you that this needs to be handled. Now. It is already impeding our research. We’ve lost over ten years of progress because of this distraction.”

Most of the segments had learned to repress human emotions over time--some were never able to, like the younger segments and Theta, while others like Delta, Rho and Zeta, had decent control over their emotions but still often fell victim to outbursts of rage and irritation.

Lambda did not have to learn as he had none.

Dottore valued all perspectives when it came to his research. He created versions himself frozen in time at some of the most formative moments of his life: being chased from his village, being accepted into the Akademiya as a scholar, being outcast from the Akademiya, brought into the Fatui as a recruit and then his promotion to Harbinger. A version of himself too young to fully understand the cruelty of the world and a version of himself whose mind developed and adapted over time. A version of himself with too much humanity and a version of himself without any.

It had been difficult influencing the essence of the Irminsul branches to create the Epsilon and Lambda segments as he was not simply freezing a previous mindset of himself in time and placing it into a vessel. He had to engineer the fundamental aspects of each of the cores that housed the consciousness of the segments to manipulate the way that they did--or did not--process emotions and he had to be careful enough so that it was still inherently him but different, allowing him a new perspective in his research that was more than just him frozen in time at a younger point of his life.

It had taken several attempts and many failures but three centuries ago he had finally been able to create Lambda, a segment who cared for nothing but the expansion and success of his experiments, his very existence laid upon his ability to bring their research to new ends without the shackles of humanity binding him because so much as Dottore liked to believe he was able to extinguish any and all emotion he might feel, he knew logically it was impossible and he had to factor that in when it came to results. The Lambda segment had an objectivity in his perspective that none of the other segments, or Dottore himself, were able to obtain--influenced by the past and repressed emotions, even if it was subtly enough that it could not be seen on the surface.

Epsilon had been created later--the antithesis of the Lambda segment, a segment that could process humanity on a level beyond what Dottore or any of the other segments were capable of. Dottore hadn’t seen the benefit in creating a segment like that but the Zeta segment had pushed for it, saying that it was unwise to create one extreme without another to balance it out, it led to biased results. Dottore had a feeling that the Zeta segment was simply sick of having to take care of the Kappa segment but there was no fault in his logic.

Thus, half a century after the creation of the Lambda segment, the Epsilon segment came into existence.

“I am handling it,” Dottore said sharply. “Sit down and report.”

“This is my report,” Lambda, unlike the other segments, did not back down when Dottore made demands of him that he did not agree with. It was Dottore’s own fault, he had given Lambda authority over the other segments because of his impartiality and it made him arrogant. “My research has been disrupted and I will not be able to continue it until this situation is properly handled. Thus, I’m requesting all of the information you have on the distraction so I can handle it myself.”

Dottore’s lips thinned, gaze steadying on Lambda. “No.”

Lambda raised his eyebrows, “No?”

“You are a segment, not a mimic,” Dottore said, poison lacing his tone. “I said no. Return to Sumeru and continue your research. No harm is to come to the girl, we don’t know how it will affect us.”

Lambda stared at him and Dottore knew exactly what the segment was thinking.

It won’t affect me.

“It should not affect you at all unless you’ve become attached to the mere idea of her, that’s the only way the loss of the bond can affect someone who has not met their ‘soulmate’,” his voice gave way to no emotion but Dottore knew it was an accusation, that him throwing out the word soulmate was meant to be a mockery, a dig at the other segments, a dig at him.

“You created me to make sure we continue to do what is best for our research,” Lambda continued coldly. “I will do just that. Handle it or I will. You are doing exactly what you said you wouldn’t do and it is impeding our progress.”

Dottore inhaled sharply, his temper spiking--he was barely able to control himself, tone venomous as he spoke, “And what exactly is that? What am I doing, Lambda?”

“Getting attached,” Lambda said. “You’re allowing yourself to be weak and that in turn is making all of us weak. The weakness is inhibiting our ability to make headway on our research and if you can’t even see that then…”

Lambda trailed off, he didn’t have to finish what he was going to say, Dottore already knew. If you can’t even see that then maybe you’re too far gone already.

“Get out,” Dottore said, restraining the blizzard of emotions that were whirling inside him. Fury, not only at Lambda and the blatant disrespect but also at himself because he remembered the nights he prepared to tell her that enough was enough and he had no desire to have a soulmate and he remembered all of the times that instead of transferring the words to her, he instead chose to preoccupy himself with a new project. “The only one impeding my research right now is you. If you weren’t going to bring anything worthwhile, you should have remained in Sumeru.”

Lambda was right, Dottore had allowed himself to get attached to the faceless figure on the other side of his thread even after all of the insurances he had put in place to prevent this from happening. He didn’t even know how it happened, he had been certain that after he had received that word from her, he was done with it all. It had to have been subtly over the course of the past decade and a half, slow enough for it to creep in, in a way that he couldn’t notice on his own, in a way that he could still keep himself convinced that he had no attachment to her--like a slow, inevitable death.

Distantly, he realized that he wouldn’t have even cared about the word cursed showing up on his forearm to begin with unless he had gotten attached to her. It should have had no effect on him.

“Once she learns what you are, what we are, she will leave anyway. You know that. No one wants to be bonded with a monster.”

Lambda didn’t say anything else as he left the lab and as soon as the door shut behind him, Dottore’s shoulders slumped and he pressed his head against his hands, elbows resting on the table as he massaged his face, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do.

Severing the thread was not possible.

Are you sure? A part of him questioned, or had you just not been looking into it hard enough because deep down you didn’t want it severed?

Dottore’s lips twisted. That was not the case. He had tried. He had spent years researching it, trying to figure out what could be done. Not only for his own sake but for hers too.

If you can’t sever through science then…

His arm stung, a familiar feeling that he had grown used to over the past few months. He didn’t even want to look down and see what she was asking him. It was late--if he had to guess, it was probably either the daily goodnight or she had felt his volatile emotions and wanted to know if he was okay.

How was your day?

Dottore shut his eyes, finally making a decision.

If you can’t sever through science then it must be done emotionally.

The city was cold--there was a winter storm blowing south from the northern lands that had the windows creaking and rattling. The fireplace burned hot on the other side of the room but somehow you still felt cold, staring down at your food as you waited for your grandfather to finish reading the letter that your father had left for you and the insignia that he had stashed with it.

You didn’t know what to do. You had sat on the letter for days now, reading it over and over and over again until the words were branded on your brain and you could recite them without even having the letter in front of you.

Your father spoke of blasphemy, sacrilege--a crime that would have your stepfather thrown beneath the city into the black cells for the rest of his life, a crime that could have your siblings cast out from the highest tiers of the Fontaine court, shunned and outcast for their father’s transgressions against the court and the gods.

Faking a bond. Being a Snezhnayan infiltrator.

You had heard rumors of the first before--long forgotten techniques of ancient Snezhnayan strigoi who masked as mortals and toyed with mens’ minds to lure in their prey. You thought that they were just old wives’ tales to scare young girls and boys but your father seemed certain in his letter that your stepfather was somehow faking the bond with your mother and you weren’t sure if you wanted to believe it was true or not… because then that meant you life was ruined not because your mother had finally found happiness in her soulmate, even if you did not like him, but instead it meant that he was manipulating her mind.

“There is not enough proof,” your grandfather finally said, knuckles tight and tense around the parchment as he read what you believed was your father’s last words before his death. “If we present this to Her Excellency, it will be a challenge of our word against his. He will have your mother’s support and her family’s, the President of the Research Institute will back them and he’s gained a lot of influence throughout the city with the recent energy developments.”

Energy developments, you thought bitterly, they were only a temporary solution to the apparatus crisis happening throughout the city but even if the solution was only temporary, it eased the stress on the civilians and elite alike, and it made them view him in a better light. As if the whole crisis wasn’t his fault to begin with.

Your lips twisted, grip on the hem of your shirt tightening, “The Commissioner will side with us,” you said. “Wrio is going to take over soon. I can talk to him.”

Wriothesley. He was the one you were meant to marry in the coming years. You didn’t talk to him often, both of you were always busy with your own duties, but you had always gotten along well enough when you were together. He was born with a black mark--a dead soulmate. You thought he was a good man but he was always sad. People thought it was a miracle that he could even function being born with a dead soulmate but you didn’t think it was so surprising. He never got to have a soulmate, he never knew what he lost and that was what usually killed: knowing that you could’ve had it all, or even having it all, but then it being ripped away from you.

“People are not happy with the city police,” your grandfather said. “Elites and civilians.. I don’t know how much help the Commissioner’s support would be.”

Your head hurt. You shut your eyes briefly. There were five positions of influence in Fontaine, each of them passed down through the nation’s five most elite families--the Chief Justice, the Warden of the Black Cells, Commissioner of the City Police, Chief of the Gendarmerie, and the President of the Research Institute, who also handled the cities infrastructure. Your grandfather was the current Warden and his closest friend was the Commissioner… but the influence of the positions was not uniform, especially over the past ten years.

The Chief Justice was always the most popular of the five positions--Neuvillette was the current one and you knew he would remain neutral should things escalate. He was the one that controlled everything--the Hydro Archon’s voice, her eyes and ears whenever she didn’t join him in court. Everyone wanted to be close to him because they thought that him viewing them in a more positive light would be the difference between freedom and the rest of their life spent in the Black Cells. They were wrong, of course, Neuvillette wouldn’t let personal relationships cloud his judgment but you couldn’t really blame them for trying.

The Warden was always an unpopular but powerful position, many of the elite and especially the civilians feared him, knowing that should they slip up once, their lives would be in his hands. The Commissioner of the City Police’s popularity has been on a steadily downward trend since rebellion began stirring in the city. The civilians thought that the police were too harsh on them but the elites thought that they’re not being harsh enough, which is why the epidemic of dissent kept spreading. They were resented on all sides.

On the other hand, the Chief of the Gendarmerie was only becoming more popular, your uncle held the position, but you thought it was stupid because the only reason why he was so popular was because he had nothing to do in the city. There was no reason for the civilians and the elite to hate him because he dealt with policing the countryside--which usually only consisted of dealing with rogue hillichurls and the occasional band of treasure hoarders. If the Gendarmerie had to handle Fontaine’s population like the city police did, they would be just as unpopular.

And the President of the Institute had been unpopular for nearly a decade--he was blamed for the energy crisis, rightfully, but he and his officers found that temporary solution so his popularity skyrocketed because the people no longer had to deal with unstable heating during the winter and the city’s power going in and out once every few hours. You figured the popularity spike would disappear once the apparati failed again but that didn’t help you now.

Your throat spasmed as you swallowed. “I don’t understand,” you said. “Are we just supposed to let this go? He’s Fatui, he’s lying to my mother, and he killed father because father started asking questions. Am I supposed to just share a dinner table with him and act like everything is fine?”

“We have no proof,” you went quiet as your grandfather leveled a steady gaze onto you. “We can accuse him as much as we want. We can show Chief Justice Neuvillette and the Hydro Archon your father’s letter and the insignia but when it comes down to it it will be a battle of words, and we will lose. The only witness that might’ve been able to convince the Hydro Archon is dead.”

You thought you might cry. You could feel the tears of frustration stinging your eyes. You thought that by bringing this to your grandfather would be the answer to all of your questions, that he would know what to do and they would be able to throw that weasel of a man beneath the city, let him rot in the Black Cells.

“If we accuse him of being Fatui, the Hydro Archon will act,” you hissed. “I’m not stupid, I know that this all has escalated because the north is planning a rebellion against the gods-”

“Quiet.”

“She will do something,” you finally said, catching the anger in your grandfather’s eyes as you spoke of the taboo subject. “She hunts down anyone affiliated with Snezhnaya, if he is accused of being a Fatui spy, she’ll act.”

“Neuvillette will intervene,” your grandfather shook his head. “He knows that if the Hydro Archon tries to imprison him without a proper trial, it will turn the elite against her. They are already nervous, if they see her targeting one of their own, it will rip their security blanket off. He will make sure that this is taken to trial and if it is taken to trial then we will lose. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” you said but your voice was thick and you weren’t sure if you were angry or upset. You rose to your feet, food untouched. “Excuse me for a second.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond before you were walking out of the dining room toward the bathroom. As soon as you shut the door behind you, you let yourself crumble--sitting on the ground with your knees tucked to your chest and your body trembling. You thought it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that your father was gone and it wasn’t fair that your stepfather had done it and he was just going to get away with it. Fontaine was supposed to be the city of justice but corruption ran rampant throughout the streets. You were sick of it.

You exhaled shakily, trying to calm yourself down, instead focusing on your forearm. You hated that even though he clearly wanted nothing to do with you, you still turned to him whenever you were breaking down. You hated even more that it worked every time.

How was your day?

You knew you wouldn’t get a response. You never did. Sometimes you liked to imagine what he might be doing--buried in research and experiments, facing the frustrations of failure left and right. Realistically, he was just ignoring you. You had come to terms with that. But still, you enjoyed indulging yourself in the delusions sometimes.

But this time was different, there was a spike of emotion from him--anger--and you rarely ever felt anything from him, much less something this strong seemingly in response to your question. Maybe he had a bad day, you thought to yourself, swallowing thickly, but then your arm stung. It was subtle, something you barely even noticed but you knew what it was.

Your gaze turned down to your forearm and as your eyes fell to the words branded on your skin, your heart sunk.

Enough. I have no interest in having a soulmate.

You stared, numb, at the words, waiting for them to change, wondering if you were reading them wrong. You knew you weren’t and you thought that you shouldn’t be as upset as you were but your whole chest felt as if it was caving in on itself, you felt like no matter how fast or deep you breathed in, none of the air was getting to your lungs.

You knew this, you told yourself, trying to calm yourself down again. You had known this deep down. It was inevitable. He had been ignoring you for months--longer than that, really, ever since you were a child and you would tug your thread before bed, waiting for him to tug it back. But you supposed it didn’t matter how much you might’ve known that it was true because you never expected him to be so… blunt about it, and you couldn’t help but hold out hope that maybe those delusions you fancied so much might prove to be true

You thought, maybe, that a part of you might have died right there.

Rejection. In everything you had read about soulmates, you didn’t think you had ever heard of someone being rejected by theirs. You stared at your thread, you wondered if it would sever at his words, if it would crumble to dust or blacken. You waited but it never happened, it still was tied around your finger, bright and leading to the north.

To the north.

You inhaled sharply, eyes widening as realization struck. Your body moved on auto pilot as you rose to your feet to leave the bathroom but your hands still shook, teeth clenched together as you tried to fight through the pain of being rejected by the one person in the world meant to accept you. Your grandfather turned his head when he heard the bathroom door slam hard behind you but before he could voice his disapproval, you were speaking.

“If proof is the issue, I’ll get it myself,” you said, voice stronger than you expected it to be as you told your grandfather your plan. “I’ll go north and I’ll get the evidence, and then we can throw that murderer in the cells beneath the city and bring justice to father.”

RBS APPRECIATED!

#dottore x reader #genshin x reader #dottore smut #genshin smut #dottore x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut

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seungvocado · 4 months ago

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Break Ground [Part 1]

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — Content/Trigger warning: Step brother!Seungmin, Step sister!Reader, Fem!Reader, Slow burn, Slight angst, First time/Virginity taking, Kind of Cheating (?), Oral (F. Receiving, M. Receiving), Fingering, Hand Job, Grinding, P in V sex (unprotected), Creampie, Possessive Seungmin, Jealous Seungmin. [Let me know if I miss out any!]

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — Sypnosis: Y/N who is secretly in love with her Seungmin - even before they were step-siblings, navigates the complexities of their relationship. Unspoken feelings escalates when she dates another boy to distract herself from Seungmin.

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — Master list - Break Ground (mini series)

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — 18+ work! MDNI! Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog.

a/n: this is my first writing ever! please give me feedback + suggestions! ❤️

The warm summer air drifted through the open windows of the house, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers. Y/N sat on the window seat, gazing outside but not really seeing anything. Her mind was occupied, tangled in thoughts of Seungmin. He had always been the responsible older brother, always there for her since their parents had remarried and brought them together. But recently, something had changed. She could feel it in the way his gaze lingered on her a second longer than it should, the way his touch sent shivers down her spine.

Y/N wasn’t naive; she knew her feelings for Seungmin were more than just sisterly affection. She had fallen for him, hard. But what tormented her the most was the certainty that Seungmin felt the same way. He was just too good at hiding it, too good at pretending that he only cared for her as an older brother should.

She had tried to break through his facade more times than she could count. Casual touches, lingering hugs, the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. But Seungmin was always careful, always keeping his distance just enough to maintain the illusion of brotherly love and nothing more.

Yet, Y/N could see through him. The way his breath hitched when she was close, the slight tremor in his hand when she touched him, the way his eyes darkened with something she couldn’t quite name when their gazes locked. She knew Seungmin was hiding his true feelings, and it drove her mad with both frustration and longing.

One evening, as the sun dipped low in the sky, painting the world in hues of orange and pink, Y/N decided she couldn’t take it anymore. She found Seungmin in his room, reading as usual. His glasses perched on his nose, hair slightly tousled as if he had run his hand through it out of habit. He looked up as she entered, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Y/N, what’s up? Do you need something?” he asked, his voice as calm and controlled as ever.

She crossed the room, her heart pounding in her chest, and sat on the edge of his bed. “Seungmin, can we talk?”

He set the book aside, giving her his full attention. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I feel like… like there’s something between us. Something more than just… sibling affection.”

For a brief moment, she saw a flicker of something in Seungmin’s eyes—fear, maybe, or perhaps desire. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that calm, composed mask he always wore around her.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re my sister, my responsibility. It’s my job to take care of you, to make sure you’re happy and safe. That’s all.”

She shook her head, frustration bubbling up inside her. “No, Seungmin. I know you care about me, but I also know it’s more than just responsibility. You can’t lie to me forever.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “Y/N, this… whatever you’re feeling, it’s just confusion. We’re family now, and it’s natural to feel close to each other. But that’s all it is.”

“Is it?” she challenged, moving closer to him. “Because it doesn’t feel like that to me. And I don’t think it feels that way to you either.”

Seungmin stood up, creating distance between them as if he was afraid of what might happen if he didn’t. “Y/N, this is dangerous. We can’t… we can’t go there.”

“Why not?” she demanded, standing as well, refusing to let him escape. “Why can’t we be honest about how we feel?”

“Because it’s wrong!” he burst out, finally letting some of the emotion he’d been holding back spill over. “You’re my sister, Y/N. We can’t—” He stopped, taking a deep breath, trying to regain control. “I can’t let myself feel that way about you.”

“But you do,” she said quietly, stepping closer to him once more. “Don’t you?”

Seungmin’s resolve wavered. He looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment, the mask slipped. The love, the desire, the guilt—all of it was there, clear as day in his eyes.

But then, with a visible effort, he forced it all back down, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “But I can’t.”

Y/N’s heart ached at the sight of him struggling so hard against his own feelings. She knew he was trying to protect them both, trying to do what he thought was right. But she also knew that denying what they felt was tearing him apart just as much as it was her.

“Seungmin,” she said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “You don’t have to pretend anymore. It’s okay to admit it… even if we don’t act on it, even if we decide it’s too complicated, too difficult. But you don’t have to keep pretending it isn’t there.”

He closed his eyes, her words cutting through his defenses like a knife. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, pulling away from her touch. “I just… I can’t.”

With that, he left the room, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart heavy with both sorrow and hope. She knew it would take time, that Seungmin might never fully allow himself to acknowledge the truth. But she also knew that the facade he was trying so hard to maintain was crumbling, bit by bit.

And one day, she hoped, he would finally let it fall.

υ´• ﻌ •`υ

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guxciestone · 1 year ago

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🦷 ❛ SR SATURN THROUGH THE HOUSES ༉‧₊˚ ˚୨୧

(solar return chart)

☁️✧

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❝ where is the structure within your year? ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

hii !! i hope life is treating you amazing. if you have astrology or tarot blog suggestions, i’m free to considering them in my asks or notes. thank you for the love and support <3

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saturn in the 1st house

This is an indication that you will find structure, discipline, and restrictions in your outlook, appearance, personality, or how others treat/view you this year. You will notice that you are much more mature, logical, and serious this time around. Perhaps you are more focused on your aspirations or building towards certain goals. You are more than likely going to approach this year with rigidness and firm intentions of better yourself in any area of your life. Find the area you are most focused on improving and building by finding which house your capricorn and aquarius is in. Others might view you as more disciplined, mature, and focused this year; however, others might think you are too serious or a bit of a debbie downer this time around as you are more prone to negative or restrictive thinking this year. This placement is notable for indicating weight loss and isolating yourself from others. This is the perfect time to reevaluate about your life since Saturn is known for coming back around to make you think about the structures you have created so far.

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saturn in the 2nd house

This shows that you’ll find structure, discipline, and restrictions in your finances, material possessions, skills, and values this time around. It is possible that your money might run a bit shorter than usual this year, perhaps you lost a job or income isn’t coming the fastest. On the other hand, you probably secured a great job and now your finances are more stable than ever. However, it is important to manage your money skills well or this structure can easily break apart within the 12-month mark. This also indicates a singular source of income as well. Hence, if you have one source of income that seems to be handling you well, stay with that; if not, then try to break out into new different sources. It is possible that this year you’ll try to learn or discover a new technical skill that can land you really good financial or career opportunities in the future. If not, try it now. This is also a significant time to think about your priorities and values. Are these values going to be good for you in the long run, and are they going to serve you well if you abide by it?

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saturn in the 3rd house

This year is the year in which you’ll find structure, discipline, and restrictions in your mind, learning processes, communications, and peers. You are taking on your mental projects and activities more seriously this time around. Perhaps you are more focused on your studies or goals than usual. This placement is perfect for when you want to take on complex and longer plans within the year because you have excess energy to pertain to. However, it is important to take a closer look at what you are spending your time on as well as how you are viewing the particular situations as you are more prone to negative thinking and extreme realism. It may be harder for you around this time to dream and visualize your desires the way you want. You are taking on more responsibilities as well, so make sure you are properly dealing with your mental stress too.

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saturn in the 4th house

This is an indication that you will find structure, discipline, and restrictions in your sense of security, home, family, and personal life. During this time, you are more committed and responsible to your home environment. Perhaps the home is old and needs to be tended to and renovated, or you are striving to financially secure yourself to take care of your home or family. In other cases, there could be an emotional responsibility for loved ones or family members. It is possible that you have to take care of an elderly member like a grandparent and they may need physical or emotional assistance. On the other hand, you may be a new parent and could be dedicating your time to handling your newborn. The entire notion is that you are savoring your time tending to your family and home environment.

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saturn in the 5th house

This shows that you’ll find structure, discipline, and restrictions in your self-expression and creative aspirations. This time around you are uncomfortable and wary in how you present and express yourself around others. You feel like a fish out of water and you do not feel natural in your individuality. You may find that your social environment or skills have changed in some way. You’re more worried about whether you should relax and have fun. This is also the opportunity to take your hobbies and creative expressions much more seriously this year as this calls for you to possibly reap success from your passions. This indicates you should be more organized and structural with your craft. In other cases, you could feel you have a certain responsibility with your child if you are a parent.

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saturn in the 6th house

This year is the year in which you’ll find structure, discipline, and restrictions in your health, routine, pets, and daily habits. It is possible that you are taking your day-to-life schedules and habits more seriously. Perhaps you start a strict diet, start a serious morning routine, or dedicate a significant amount of time within your day to work. This easily grounds you and gives you some type of form in your life. However, it is important to be careful that you do not get caught in a loop of autopilot because it can easily lead you to depression, feelings of hopelessness, and negative thinking. This placement also could show ultimate perfectionism so it is vital to make sure that not everything has to go as planned as you want it to be. You are probably more mature about your health as well, perhaps better eating habits. This can also point to a responsibility to a pet, perhaps a pet that is usually hard to take care of, like a big or exotic animal.

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saturn in the 7th house

This is an indication that you will find structure, discipline, and restrictions in your interpersonal relationships, others, and outer environment. This is the time when you are more serious and observative about your relationships and what importance they take in your life. You are probably more picky about who you let close to you, and keep the people who you do not feel secure with distant. If you are engaged, this is a perfect placement for commitment, loyalty, and security within the marriage. If you are not or single, you might lack commitment and could feel far from your relationships with others in a way. You may notice that some of your relationships are distant due to some outer or emotional circumstance–for example: long-distance, financial problems, work, parents, etc. This placement calls for you to pay close attention to your interpersonal relationships and realize the extra commitment and care you’ll have to put into them this year.

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saturn in the 8th house

This shows that you’ll find structure, discipline, and restrictions in your finances, shared resources, and intimacy. You may find that your financial situation could be limiting and scarce at some point. Perhaps you have debt that needs to be paid off (mortgages, bills, car loans, etc) and you need to decrease how much money you spend within the year. IYou might find that you will not receive that much money from others this time around. If you are married or share finances with someone, there could be restrictions getting in the way of receiving from the other person. Perhaps they’ve lost a job or aren’t receiving much income as they used to, or maybe they aren’t willing to share with you. Additionally, intimacy may not be as fulfilling this time around due to outer or emotional circumstances.

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saturn in the 9th house

This year is the year in which you’ll find structure, discipline, and restrictions in your beliefs, the way you take and see the adversities of life. This placement shows that one might enroll in an established learning environment such as college, a course, etc. There is an innate need to learn this time around. You might feel as though you need to wait until the perfect time to start learning what you want because you want your undivided attention and dedication for the subject; hence, there could be a delay in enrolling into college, school, or any classes. This also shows that you are more serious about your personal philosophy and beliefs around the time; therefore, you are probably more willing to learn more about views on life to establish a rigid mindset on what you have faith in.

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saturn in the 10th house

This is an indication that you will find structure, discipline, and restriction in your career, professional skills, image, and legacy. This placement points to a delay, or starting over in your professional life. Perhaps you quit a job, starting a new job you have no experience in, juggling two different responsibilities or jobs at once, or starting a business from scratch. In other cases, you may be putting a delay to your career life due to other obligations or rethinking your entire professional path. This also shows retirement or moving on from your working portfolio altogether if you are older. This time around you are seen as more serious, responsible, or hard working to the public. More than likely if one of the things are happening to you above, you have tons of work to do. However, if you are sure of your goals and aspirations, this placement can be rather beneficial and cause no problems.

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saturn in the 11th house

This shows that you’ll find structure, discipline, and restrictions in your aspirations, friendships, and community. This is the time where you are reassessing your personal hopes, dreams, and goals. You have to decide whether or not these aspirations are serving you and your future. This placement also points to the realizations that one does not have any hopes or goals. It calls for them to figure it out, so this is more than likely not the time for you to go on vacation or spend lots of time loitering. It is the perfect era for you to reconsider your values as well as who you feel deserve to be apart of your community–develop serious friendships and communal connections.

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saturn in the 12th house

This year is the year in which you’ll find structure, discipline, and restrictions in your unconscious, private side, and unknown parts of yourself. This is the time to face your fears and weaker parts of yourself. You are more likely going to feel shame, insecurity, fear, guilt, and anxiety during this year. It is usual for one to feel responsible for all of the things that could possibly go wrong around the time, but in reality, it is due to them not coming into contact with and accepting the parts of themselves they avoid. Perhaps they feel guilty about feeling a certain way about a responsibility they have, their personality, their self-expression, and much more. The universe will bringing you personal blockages until you realize what it is you are avoiding and try to actively fix it.

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#guxciestone #astrology #solar return chart #saturn #through the houses

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giggle-guru · 29 days ago

Text

Preening

Word Count: 2548

A little Radioapple tickle fic I wrote a while back. It’s a tad rough, but I thought why not post it hehe. Enjoy!

It was late one evening at the Hazbin Hotel, and Alastor could be found humming to himself, snuggled in the king bed within Lucifer's room. A small radio on the bedside table played some soothing, quiet jazz as he turned the page of his book. The lamp beside him provided a warm and cozy atmosphere, along with the presence of his darling Lucifer who shifted with his eyes closed beside him. This wouldn’t be of concern, had Alastor not noticed him moving around restlessly tonight.

He was not asleep just yet but was certainly attempting to. He glances away from his novel, his red eyes glowing softly in the dimmed bedroom lighting. Lucifer shifts for what feels like the thousandth time that night and grunts, muttering something incomprehensible before rolling onto his side to face Alastor once again. His brows are knitted together in slight distress, his expression matching one of discomfort. Alastor marks the page of his book and then sets it aside, giving the King of Hell his full attention. Though this was quite new to them and they were still figuring out this whole ‘dating’ complex, it was clear to Alasor that something was agitating him. He continues studying him for a moment longer before he reaches out with one hand to brush away the strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes. A fleeting touch that lingers for a brief moment, as if to offer a silent reassurance while also testing the waters. His touch is rather delicate, a contrast to his usual persona and facade. He speaks in a soft tone.

“Is something troubling you, Lucifer?”

Lucifer sighs in response, his expression still displaying signs of restlessness. At the touch on his head, however, his expression softens slightly. He opens his eyes to glance up at him, muttering quietly, “It’s nothing, Bambi.”

Now Alastor’s eyes narrow slightly, noticing how Lucifer leans into his touch, a small indication that perhaps it was welcome rather than intrusive. He tilts his head with an unreadable expression, “You are clearly restless. It’s obviously apparent you’re not comfortable right now.”

Lucifer locks eyes on his gaze, with a face flushing slightly. Unfortunately for him, it always feels like Alastor can see right through him. Yet, he knows he was not exactly being subtle about it. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. It’s just my wings.” He admits with a mumble.

Wings. Alastor hums in interest at Lucifer’s sudden revelation and the flush of his cheeks, though he doesn’t comment on it further. He glances towards Lucifer’s back, “Your wings,” he repeats. He tilts his head, observing the way Lucifer looks almost embarrassed. “Are they uncomfortable?”

The look Alastor gives him only makes Lucifer flush more. He shifts in the bed so he is now lying on his stomach, looking up at Alastor. “It’s molting season. That’s all.” He doesn’t elaborate further, though one of his wings twitches.

“Molting season?” Alastor repeats once again, a hint of amusement in his tone, “Lucifer, the King of Hell himself, is having trouble sleeping because of a molt? I find that quite charming.” He couldn’t help but find the thought of Lucifer being mildly inconvenienced by such a mundane circumstance rather entertaining, but he mainly kept that thought to himself.

Lucifer scoffs slightly. “Of course you do.” He can't help but have a wing twitch once again, his feathers clearly bothering him. He notes to himself that he really should have preened before he invited Alastor to spend the night with him, he was just excited.

Alastors amusement grows as Lucifer scoffs, his eyes gleaming with an urge to tease him. “Well, it’s just quite…simple. I didn’t exactly expect you to be fussing over your wings.” He reaches out, gently brushing away a couple of loose feathers that have fallen onto his shoulder from his constant twitches, “You should have said something earlier.”

Lucifer’s response was a simple huff and whine of, “I didn’t think they’d be this annoying.” It was true. He figured he would just preen tomorrow after Alastor leaves to do…whatever he does. He wasn’t expecting his wings to be so aggravating tonight.

Alastor’s amusement grows, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Ah, so you were caught off guard by the wrath of molting feathers despite having them for an eternity.” Taking into account his previous reaction to his gentle brush of his hair, he moves his hand to gently run his fingers through Lucifer’s feathers to try to remove and settle them to help his darling get comfortable. “You’ve got me here now. I happen to be fairly good at preening feathers.”

Though this was a simple act of comfort, Lucifer instantly tenses and flushes further. His wings twitch in response and he squirms slightly. “Sure you are,” he speaks in an attempt at sarcasm to mask his squirm.

Alastor has a keen eye, however, and a hint of concern appears on his features as he continues to tease the feathers straight. “Mhm. Indeed I am. Though I understand your disbelief.” But Lucifer continues squirming, his wings still twitching. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.” He continues the gentle preening motion, ensuring he is not tugging or scratching too rough, his eyes focused on Lucifer’s feathers with an occasional glance to gauge his reactions.

“I am relaxed!” Lucifer protests, but his voice is squeaky. He squirms more as time goes on as he buries his face into the pillow in order to hide a growing involuntary smile.

“Oh, I can see that,” Alastor says softly, his voice tinged with amusement as he continues to preen Lucifer's feathers gently. “Your squirming and hiding your face are all signs of utmost relaxation, after all.” His smirk grows wider as he watches Lucifer bury his face further into the pillow, causing him to chuckle. Lucifer is about to make another sarcastic comment, but as he does Alastor brushes against the top arch of one of his wings causing a giggle to escape instead. This causes Alastor’s eyes to flicker with interest.

“Oh?” He chuckles once more, repeating the motion, curious to see if it will elicit the same reaction, “So those wings are sensitive, I take it.” he teases. This teasing only further weakens the attempted defense Lucifer is trying to build, another giggle escaping as he tries to reach over and grasp one of his arms to pull them away from his wings. “No. They’re not. And quit it, I can preen them myself tomorrow.”

Alastor laughs now, a rare genuine sound from the usually composed Overlord. “Oh, come on! I was just having a bit of fun and trying to help you,” Alastor says with a playful tone. He avoids Lucifer’s attempts at stopping him and returns to the top of his wing. “Now sit still and let me preen you.”

Lucifer tries to protest but instead begins giggling. “Bambi!” he squeaks, instantly trying to roll away from him half-heartedly. Despite the ticklish sensation, he couldn’t deny that he was untangling some irritating feathers that had been bothering him earlier.

Alastor’s amusement reaches new heights as the protest dissolves into a burst of giggles, quite an adorable reaction in his opinion. In mere moments, he’s tossing covers aside to sit on the lower back of Lucier, careful to avoid sitting on his wings. “Are you telling me, you, Lucifer Morningstar, the almighty king…” he leans in closer, whispering into his ear. “Are ticklish?”

Lucifer lets out a strangled noise as Alastor moves in a flash to sit behind him, weakly attempting to throw him off. “What? No!”

Alastor leans to see that growing blush. His fingers quickly go back to preening his wings, though purposely moving in that same light fashion and focusing on particularly sensitive spots that seem to get Lucifer worked up. “You aren’t? That giggle of yours along with those fluttering wings say something on the contrary.”

Lucifer squirms and twitches, giggles falling uncontrollably from his lips. Alastors weight on his lower back proves to be a lot more difficult to escape from when he’s weakened by his own giggling. As Alastor moves to try to focus on those sensitive spots, his giggling grows louder and more unrestrained. “H-Hey! Okay! Al, don’t!”

Alastor continues his gentle yet relentless assault on Lucifer’s wings, not being able to resist as he watches Lucifer giggle and his wings flutter frantically. He removes some of those pesky loose feathers in the process. “But it’s so much fun just teasing you like this, Luci,” he mumbles into his ear, the nickname slipping out in the moment of chaos and amusement, “And besides, you really need me to properly preen your wings if you plan on getting any sleep tonight.”

The combination of Alastor’s fingers on his wings and the sudden use of the nickname ‘Luci’ sends him into another, louder giggling fit as his wings flutter faster. He squirms more violently, trying to escape the relentless assault, “Al, I’m- I’m serious!”

Alastor relishes in the moment, continuing to carefully preen Lucifer’s wings while causing a flurry of giggles to come from his mouth. He continues leaning in to whisper against his ear, “Sure you are. But you’re so fun to mess with, and I would be foolish to let this opportunity go to waste.” He hums and continues to preen his wings as he moves to the base of them, fingers dancing over them. “Come on, Lucifer, stop resisting so much. Let me finish this little preening session. It will all be over soon.” He teases.

Lucifer squeals at the contact when Alastor reaches the base of his wings, causing the loose feathers to fall and his back to arch. He’d be lying if he said this wasn’t helping relieve some of the irritation or that he hated this, but he’d never admit to either anyway. “Ah! Alastor, not there!”

Of course, that reaction piques Alastor's interest. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk still present on his face. “Not there, you say, hmm?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. His fingers dance along the base of his wings again, making sure to send a shiver up Lucifer’s spine. “Well, this appears to be a great help. Look at these feathers. I should charge you for my services.” he teases.

Lucifer can’t help but squeal once more, trying to protest but every word is cut off by another wave of uncontrollable giggling. “Please!” he manages to squeal out, his voice high and breathy as his body shakes. His laughter, the arching of his back, and the flutter of his wings are almost a symphony of reactions that Alastor finds satisfying.

“Please what? Please stop? But look at how much your wings are enjoying it, Luci! Admit it.” He teased, moving to another set of wings to continue his ticklish preening, now purposely nuzzling his nose to the back of his neck, causing Lucifer to giggle more if that was even possible. His wings begin fluttering at a rapid pace like a hummingbird’s trying to take flight. The combination of Alastor’s relentless teasing and the nickname leaves him more vulnerable than he would like to admit.

“I’m not enjoying this!” Lucifer insists through his laughter, but it is clearly a lie evident by the amount of giggles and lack of an actual escape attempt. They both know that if Lucifer really wanted this to end, he would have stopped him long ago. And Alastor was not going to waste any time pointing that out.

“Don’t even bother, darling. Why are you giggling like a schoolgirl then, hmm?” He asks in a teasing tone, “You’re not even trying to actually get me off. I think the great Lucifer might, in fact, be enjoying himself a little.” As if to prove a point, he moves to the final set of wings to preen them in a rapid manner, moving carefully but quickly around them to set them straight and untangle the feathers.

Lucifer’s response descends into hysterical laughter, the quick preening causing a stream of uncontrollable laughter to escape his lips. He attempts as weakly as before to push him away, but thanks to how half-hearted they are they don’t do much. “Okay! Okay!” He laughs, the words slightly broken by the laughter. “Yes, yes! I sort of like it! You happy?”

Alastor chuckles victoriously, his smile widening at his admission. He continues for a few minutes, relishing in his hysterical pleas and laughter. “See? Was that so hard to confess?” he finally speaks, in a still playful voice as he finishes preening Lucifer’s wings. He takes a moment to ensure they’re all in order. “There we go. All done.” The hands on Lucifer’s back move to his hips as he rolls and grasps Lucifer to switch their positions so his wings are comfortably on the bed. “I never knew you were so damn ticklish.”

Lucifer catches his breath, giggles slowing into breathless chuckles as his chest rises and falls rapidly. The shift in position causes a small shiver to ride up his spine. “I swear, if you tell anyone a word of this I’ll kill you, Bambi.”

“Oh, you’re threatening me now are you?” Alastor laughs, but there is no real menace present in his words. He moves a hand up to run his fingers through Lucifer’s hair, his touch soft and tender. He’s always soft around him apparently. A part of him, he’s learning, is something only Lucifer can see. “Rest assured, your little secret is safe with me. I have no intention of telling anyone you're an absolute mess when you’re tickled. Only I get to exploit that.”

Lucifer flushes, leaning subconsciously into his touch. “Shut up.” Is the only thing that slips from his lips, other than a soft yawn. He relaxes into the bed, his wings feeling much less irritated.

Alastor laughs, enjoying the sight of Lucifer practically putty beneath his fingers. “Did I wear you out, Your Majesty?” he hums, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before moving off of him, brushing the loose feathers off the bed to be dealt with tomorrow. He moves to turn off the lamp. “Judging by your relaxed demeanor is it safe to say you feel better now?”

Lucifer turns his head to look at Alastor, a small pout on his face at the continued teasing. “Yes, I feel better, smartass,” he mumbles. There is a slight pause before he adds in a whispered tone, “Thanks, Al.”

Alastor smiles, his gaze softening at the muttered response. He shifts closer to pull him against his chest, wrapping himself around him and putting his face against him. “It was my pleasure.” He speaks quietly, moving to instead rub gentle circles along his back to soothe his darling to sleep.

There is no protest from Lucifer this time, only a soft noise of approval as he closes his eyes and melts into the bed. “I’m getting you back for that.” he whispers, to which Alastor laughs softly and murmurs, “I’d like to see you try.” Before finally getting him to sleep. It doesn’t take long for Alastor to follow suit either, knowing that the next morning he would likely have a little fireball to deal with. Not that he’d complain, it was his darling after all.

Hopefully you all enjoyed it! It’s definitely not my best work but it’ll suffice for now hehe.

#hazbin hotel tickling #lee!lucifer #ler!alastor #tickle fic #guru writes #fluff #radioapple #hazbin hotel #ticklish!lucifer #hazbin hotel tickles #lucifer morningstar #alastor #tickle content #sfw tickles

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