#but that does not take away from the fact that women finally had this wonderful big thing and men found a way to exploit it

[water1oo]

it feels almost violating to hear about this planned terrorist attack in vienna. i went to the show last august and know what a joyous event it truly is for everyone there, and for some sick fucks to plan to attack something like that makes me feel sick. especially hearing about this so soon after those 3 little girls were killed at a taylor swift themed dance class. these are events where women and girls would've been the main victims, it's horrific and heartbreaking that women can't have fuck without men finding a way to rip it away in the cruelest way possible.

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 6: Pup Cup

Masterlist

Summary: Simon unexpectedly runs into you... and your friends... and Tyler.

Warnings: dissociation, jealousy

It was finally Saturday - a Saturday where you had cleared your schedule, and so had Leslie and Nina. AND Tyler. Which was maybe once every two months. So, you had made plans to get brunch with the girls, the three of you deciding to dress up a bit and get mimosas. Tyler had promised to swing by around one to take you around the city, then to spend a cozy day at his apartment.

Right now, it was girl time. The three of you had your mimosa pitcher and a shared basket of fries, delving into each other's personal drama.

"And then Marcie asked me to pick up this Saturday - today, mind you - because she forgot the two interns were finished this Thursday. Of course, I told her no, in the most professional way I could - and she had the audacity to say I needed to pick up more slack. Me!!"

Nina scoffed. Your jaw dropped open. "You've been there the longest!"

Leslie nodded. "Longer than her, too! God, I could've let her have it, right then and there-" she sighed, leaning back in her seat. "Of course, I didn't. But I made sure she knew I would not be coming in on my day off, that I had planned for weeks."

You snapped your fingers in applause, making Leslie chuckle. "Bravo to you - we love seeing women fighting women in the workplace."

"Oh, stuff it." She laughed, swatting your hands away. "Feels like an episode of 'The Office,' if you ask me. Just too bloody insane to be real."

You hummed thoughtfully, taking a sip of your mimosa. Your eyes wandered down to your purse, hanging from the side of your chair, your phone tucked away within. I wonder what Simon's up to... what does he do on his days off?

"Speaking of women in the workplace..." Leslie turns to Nina, who was scowling at her phone. "Who's got you so irate on a Saturday?"

"Idiots, that's who." She grumbled, furiously punching away at the keyboard on her screen. "It's as if the minute I take a personal vacation, everyone and their grandmother suddenly need a wedding planner." She sighed and tucked her phone back into her purse. "I'm sorry..."

You and Leslie shook your head, reassuring her that it was alright. God forbid she starts falling into the "I work so hard and get nothing in return" schpeel - which would be believable and understandable, if it wasn't for the fact that she played that card every time the three of you were together.

"Did you hear she started dog-sitting?" Leslie said, nodding in your direction.

That snapped Nina out of her own head. "You did? What does that have to do with your design work?"

You huffed. "Well, it doesn't - but, and I told you this, Leslie" - she laughed at your glare - "that I was just looking for a house-sitting gig, like what I did before I left that stupid company. Just until I got a few clients to myself, and could start my own business."

"Busy bee..." Leslie commented, and Nina nodded in agreement.

"Not nearly as you two - remember how hard it was for me and Tyler to have a weekend together? Now I'm the one waiting for him. He's even started coming with me when I take Riley for walks - just to spend more time together."

"How sweet..." Leslie cooed.

"Riley?" Nina asked.

"The dog." You answered. "She's a wonderful dog, really. Used to be military, before her... injury..."

You trailed off, staring at something between Leslie's and Nina's heads. They stared at you in confusion for a moment, until you beamed widely and started waving your hand. They turned to stare at whomever had caught your attention.

Simon wasn't one for "get-togethers," as he heard them called. He was perfectly fine spending his leave at home, only leaving to walk Riley or get his groceries and smokes. He'd occasionally text the team and see what they were up to, but other than that - he had no problem living like a hermit.

Soap was the one to suggest the idea of the team getting lunch together, since they were all nearby for work. Of course, Gaz was never one to turn down a group outing; once he was in, Price had decided they all might as well go. ("Should be a team off the field too, right?")

So that's how Simon had been forced to come out of his cave. And no, it might not seem like he was forced... but it would be rude of him not to go, so therefore, societal standards were forcing him. That, and Soap would bitch about him being a "bawbag" for weeks if he didn't tag along.

He decided to bring Riley with him, since it had been a few weeks since she had seen everyone. She looked around as she panted, walking besides Simon through the mildly-crowded sidewalk. It was a decent Saturday afternoon, with a mix of cloud and sun hanging in the sky. Simon wore his usual jeans and a sweatshirt, along with a black surgical mask.

He needed a head start for the day. Not that he didn't enjoy spending time with his team outside of work... but people were exhausting, especially when he was forced into proximity with them. He needed a few hours to himself, in public, just to wake up his social battery. The best way to achieve that? Tea, Riley, and people-watching.

So that's how he found himself, next in line at the coffee counter of a restaraunt he’d been to a few times before. He had his hands shoved in his pockets as he held Riley's leash; her head was on a swivel, sniffing the aromas that wafted through the air, and the occasional hand of each person who passed her. Simon was thankful people were wary of his presence - it kept everyone from trying to lean down and pet Riley without his permission.

The customer in front of him moved away from the counter, and Simon stepped forward. The girl behind the cash register smiled at him, wiping her hands on her apron.

"What can I get for you, sir?"

"Jus' a tea. Medium, no sugar, no cream."

"Would you like the passionfruit tea or the mint berry mixer? Or our jasmine goddess?"

"... d'you have black tea?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, I'll get your black tea."

Simon huffed as he put his cash on the counter. Don' get why tha's funny...

He watched as she moved - rather sluggishly, he thought. Despite that her makeup did a fantastic job of hiding how tired she must have been, he could see it in her eyes and actions. The way she stood there, shoulders slightly slumped as she watched the hot water pour into Simon's cup, her arms resting heavily against the counter. He looked behind him briefly, noticing how long the line was for the cafe. Not to mention she had dine-in orders to fulfill, too... and she's alone at the coffee bar. He turned back, watching as she fought to make sure the lid was properly secured on his cup. It made him a bit nervous, how she supported nearly all of her weight onto the top. What if it crumples? What if she gets burnt? Is there a burn kit behind the shelf? Probably not-

Riley whined, snapping Simon’s attention away from the barista and down towards her. She licked her lips and stared up at him curiously.

She always knows.

He sighed, patting her flank. "Thanks, girl."

The barista returned with his tea, as well as a small cup of whipped cream with a dog biscuit poking out of it. “For your friend.” She said with a too-tight smile.

Simon stared blankly at the whipped cream cup. "I didn't order tha’.” He said bluntly.

“It’s on the house! Pup cups are free.” She said, nudging the two items towards Simon. “Don’t worry, there’s no added sugars in the whipped cream, and the treat is allergen-free.”

Why does everyone assume dogs have allergies? Simon thought to himself. He glanced at Riley for a brief moment – she looked back at him, certainly not expecting a treat, not yet. She’d hounded him enough for those goddamn biscuits all morning, the ones you’d been spoiling her with, and he had no choice but to follow the routine and gave her one. This created a cycle that sent him to the doggie-daycare once a week to pick up more, since the old woman who made them only sold them there. Without even intending to, most likely, you were taking more from his wallet than he had hired you for. Not that he minded… it was all for Riley, however, he was almost certain he’d buy a fucking parrot if you were the one convincing him.

Riley let out a garbled sound, making Simon realize he was still staring at her. And holding up the line. Shit, socializing was more taxing than he thought…

“Thanks…�� he mumbled, grabbing his drink and the cup of whipped cream. He carefully directed himself and Riley through the crowd and over to the condiment shelf, setting both items down and adjusting his grip on Riley’s leash. He still had a few hours to kill; it’s a bit cramped in here, he thought as he grabbed a handful of napkins, eyeing the throng of coffee addicts and beatniks in the cafe, there’s always the bench by the fountain on Muller and 4th street, that might-

The sight of your familiar, perfect, sparkling eyes sucked the air and the thoughts from his body in a matter of a single second. That bright personality speared him like a harpoon as you waved from across the café, beckoning him over with a waggle of your fingers. His mind was trying to catch up after being knocked off of its feet, and he finally inhaled.

You looked equally surprised to see him - but he wasn't paying attention to that. He noticed your eyeliner and lipstick, how it made your features even brighter than they typically were. You'd worn your hair down, which was the first time he'd seen it like this since he hired you. Your nails were painted a soft pink, which accentuated the mimosa glass like an orange sunset across a blush sky... and your dress. Of course, it was bright and floral, just like your personality. But it was soft, too. The way it fitted so nicely around you - not too tight, perfectly settled around your shoulders and hips, making you look delicate. Simon was sure if he was to reach out and touch your arm, it would feel like he'd touched the skin of an angel.

He was too stunned to wave back, still frozen in the one spot by the counter as people flowed around him like river water around a stone. It wasn't until Riley had noticed you too and began whining that Simon finally gathered his bearings and nodded his head at you, stuffing the napkins in his pocket.

Two other heads swiveled around from your table and eyed him curiously, and for a moment, he groaned internally; you were with friends. Not horrible, but... not ideal. He didn't care to talk to anyone other than you at the moment – really, ever. Still, you were here, and that trumped all other factors. His anxieties moved to the sidelines when you were on the other end of the path. He clicked his tongue at Riley and grabbed his tea, carefully weaving through patrons and tables to get to you.

"Simon!" You chirped when he approached; you stood up and on your toes, reaching your arms to give him a side hug. He awkwardly stood there, attempting to hug you back by letting his arm curve around your upper back, careful not to spill his tea. Before he could stop himself, he took a deep, quiet breath in, nearly sighing at the smell of your perfume.

So floral and... sweet. Like the bookstore/plant nursery hybrid that he passes when he walks through town on his way for groceries.

You pulled away, and he straightened up. He was suddenly aware of the other two women staring at him.

"So sorry!" You said, turning to your friends. "Simon- this is Leslie, and Nina."

"’Ello." He said quietly, uninterested, and they each responded with their own "hi's". Leslie looked at him with a scrutinous stare, and he could feel her trying to peel him apart layer by layer. She looked like a corporate junkie, with her tight bun and high heels. Nina... she was... odd. She looked at him with her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes half-lidded... it made him uncomfortable. Both with the way she shamelessly ogled, and with how her eyes seemed to be a few unfortunate centimeters too far apart.

"And this is Riley!" You said, bending down and ruffling the dog’s fur. "How ya been, girl?"

She blinked at you as you pet her, sniffing the air between your face and hers. Her tongue hung out of her mouth as she panted, nearly smiling up at you if she could have.

"Ya gone and spoiled her." Simon commented, feeling something warm at the sight of you and Riley. "She wants me to tuck 'er in every day, now. And she's got me runnin' to the dog daycare every week for those bloody biscuits."

Leslie pursed her lips, thinking Simon was being rather rude. You laughed, sitting back down in your seat. "She wasn't spoiled enough, in my opinion. Did she drag you to Poeheko Park yet?"

"She did. Thought I's about to be mugged."

You laughed again. Simon wished he could bottle the sound and keep it in his pocket, so he could pull it out and listen to it over and over whenever he wanted.

"I don't think anyone could mug you, Simon." You said, absentmindedly stroking Riley's fur as she sat next to you.

So you thought he was strong? Invincible? Oh, that did something to him.

"What do you do, Simon?" Leslie asked, sipping her mimosa. "For work?"

Definitely corporate... he thought, from the way her question sounded slightly interrogatory.

"Military." He said bluntly.

Nina's lips curled into a smile; he chose to ignore it.

"Her too?" Leslie pointed at Riley, who sniffed her extended hand.

"She was..." Simon looked down at her, a bit pleased that Riley huffed in distaste at the 'stranger'. "Retired. And a rotten princess now, thanks to you." He turned back to you, his expression lighting up the tiniest bit.

You could sense something - what it was exactly, you couldn't put your finger on it. Simon seemed... tense. Uncomfortable. Maybe he didn't like being thrown into social settings with people he didn't know. You understood it.

"Well-" you said, trying to ignore the way Nina stared at him. "I don't want to interrupt your morning."

"You weren't." He said, still looking at you.

You sent him a glance, and laughed nervously. He continued watching you - God bless anyone who was ever in a staring contest with this man - as Riley sat next to him obediently. Fuck, she was staring at you too...

Leslie looked back and forth between the two of you for a moment, with you blushing furiously, and Simon watching you like you were prey - fortunately, she found an opportunity to come for your rescue.

"Oh, Tyler's here, luv." She said, tilting her head towards the space behind you.

You turned in your seat and smiled, just as a man came up and whisked you out of your chair. You threw your arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek, and he smiled as his arms wrapped around your waist.

"Thought you were coming by around one?" You said, pulling back to look at his face.

"I was able to pick up the kit from work earlier than I expected, so I thought I'd come by now." He briefly waved at Leslie and Nina, tucking you into his side. "Sorry girls - lookin' lovely, by the way - but I'm stealin' her a bit early today."

Nina waved her hand dismissively. "We had something planned for tomorrow too; go right ahead." Leslie nodded in agreement.

Tyler smiled. "Perfect. Glad it's not too much of a- woah..."

He turned to look – to really take in the sight of the hulking, brooding man beside you, and he was very visibly taken aback. Simon's soft stare had turned into a cold, unforgiving glare. His eyes were hardened with - something. Maybe anger, maybe authority. He stood rigid and tall, with his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, as he bore holes into Tyler's frame.

Simon took him in: soft, brown hair, a slight tan, rough hands, yet soft features. Slight wrinkles around the eyes from smiling too much. A white shirt and jeans, with a plaid – it made sense, now where your stash had come from.

He liked the way that Tyler was a bit intimidated, as evident by the look in his eyes. What he didn't like, was... Tyler. How he held you close. How you let him hold you. And how he himself felt the urge to snatch you from Tyler's grasp and march you out of the cafe.

"Oh, sorry-" your voice brought them both out of their trance. "Tyler, this is Simon. My client."

"Ah!" Tyler smiled, relaxing a bit as he held his hand out. "Nice to meet you!"

Simon grabbed it firmly, making Tyler wince the tiniest bit as he shook his hand. "Likewise." Not in the slightest.

When he released his hand, Tyler bent down to Riley and offered his hand for a sniff. "I know we've met before, girl."

Simon felt something stir in his gut as Riley sniffed Tyler's hand. "Y' have?" He asked, his voice a bit harsh.

"He's never been in your house." You said quickly, trying to diffuse the tension in the air. "He just tags along for the walks sometimes. Keeps us company.”

Riley IS the company. Y’ don’t need an extra, luv.

"Mm." Simon said gruffly, looking down at Riley. She was sniffing Tyler's closed fist, then leaning back to stare up at Simon. She huffed in distaste.

He fought the urge to smirk. Good girl.

"What do you do, Simon?" Tyler asked, trying to be friendly.

Nina cleared her throat. He's milita-"

"Special Armed Services." Simon interrupted. "Ten years."

Tyler looked impressed. "Shit- that's tough, mate. Makes sense with how you- y'know..." he gestured to Simon's frame, then dropped his hands and cleared his throat. "Eh, nevermind."

"I's fine." Simon replied, standing a bit taller. "What d'you do?"

"Ah- heh, nothin' that impressive. Electrician."

Simon nodded, though it wasn't the answer he was hoping for. It was hard to completely emasculate a man when he did blue-collar work. And even harder when Tyler seemed to respect Simon. It was one thing to be an asshole to an asshole, but it was another to be an asshole to a decent man.

He had to reign himself in. Tyler was your boyfriend. Why was he trying to show the poor lad up after knowing him all for a minute and a half?

"Well, erm..." Leslie cut in. "Looks like you two need to get going, and we're nearly finished here." She smiled at Simon. "It was lovely meeting you!"

"Yeah mate!" Tyler said. "Nice to finally meet you!"

Simon paused for a moment. Normally, he would love to be ripped out of a conversation like this - but now, he'd suffer through the company of a few, annoying strangers if it meant he got to talk to you. But, he obliged, sensing that Leslie wanted him gone for a reason.

"Yeah, likewise." He said, giving Riley a pat, then he looked at you. "Might need you t' watch 'er soon, but I'll email you."

"I'll keep an eye out for it." You said with a flashy smile. "See you later, Simon!"

He grunted and nodded his head, then left them all at the table. Riley stayed dutifully by his side as they made their way through the crowd of cafe patrons.

Simon tried to smell your perfume for as long as it would cling to his shirt. Soon, the scents of coffee, sugar, and teas washed it out, and the lingering warmth your scent brought him had also vanished. The bitterness came right back into his throat, coating his tongue and making him grimace under his mask and his fists clench in his pockets.

Tyler seemed like a good man, and you were happy. He had no business feeling so possessive over something that wasn't his - something that belonged to someone else. He felt like he was missing a screw - his emotions were completely out of control, and he acted compulsively when it came to you. He told himself, as he walked out of the cafe and into the busy sidewalk, that the disappointment of discovering that you were Tyler's would be a good opportunity to work on himself.

He sighed, continuing down the path to the pub. Riley huffed as she trotted next to him, and he suddenly remembered the cup of whipped cream and the dog treat – most likely still abandoned on the condiment counter of the restaurant. “Don’ worry, girl, you can have some’f Johnny’s chips.”

Next ->

[doritochoi]

Office punishment| C.S

pairing: fem!reader x boss!choi san

genre: pure smut, 18+

warnings: explicit sexual content, public sex, rough sex, oral sex, eating cum, dominant language + much more

The day starts in total panic. Your phone's alarm had been ringing for a long time, but you only now manage to open your eyes. In a quick leap, you get out of bed and head for the bathroom. Your mind wanders to the important meeting at 8 o'clock and the inevitable reaction of your boss, Choi San.

Choi San, the young billionaire, was a true magnet for all the women in town, including you. But even though you've always admitted that you find him charming, you've tried to keep a professional distance. His piercing eyes and protruding jaw often appeared in your thoughts, but you tried not to let these fantasies affect your work. You quickly put on the first outfit you can get your hands on: a shirt and a skirt, both slightly wrinkled. "I don't have time to iron anymore," you say to yourself, glancing desperately at the clock. You rush to grab a coffee, but in your haste you spill some on the kitchen counter, but you don't have time to clean up right now. You call a taxi and wait impatiently in front of the block, kneading your fingers. “I hope I make it in time, I hope he's not too upset,” you think as the taxi finally arrives. You quickly get in and tell the driver the address of the company, begging him to hurry. On the way, you check your phone and see that you have some unread messages. One is from your friend, thanking you for coming to her party last night. The others are from your colleagues, who inform you that Choi San has already arrived at the office and does not seem in a good mood.

Arriving at the company, you took a deep breath, trying to regain your confidence. You entered the doors of the building with your head held high, even though you knew you were late. All the employees were looking at you with curiosity mixed with a hint of reproach. As you walked down the hall, you wondered why everyone was acting strange. It was clear there was more than just you being late. You made your way to the office to talk with Jongho, Choi San's efficient and always knowledgeable secretary. You leaned into him slightly, trying to look calm. "Jongho, do you know what's going on? Why is everyone so tense?" you asked him, trying to keep your voice calm. Jongho looked at you with a serious expression, stopping from typing on the computer. "It's about the morning meeting," he said quietly. "It didn't go well and Mr. Choi very upset. - "The meeting? I'm late, but… I didn't think it would be this bad..," you said, feeling your stomach tighten. "Yes, you're late, but that's not the only problem. Mistakes were made in the presentation and the customers were not happy at all. Mr. Choi was counting on you to correct some mistakes, and the fact that you weren't there made it worse, Jongho explained, looking into your eyes. "I didn't know it was so important..."

You walked away from Jongho with fear mixed with determination. You knew San could take drastic measures – either fire you or do something even worse. But you were determined to take responsibility and apologize. You entered the elevator and pressed the button for the floor where San's office was, feeling the tension rise with each floor the elevator went up. When you arrived at his door, you smelled the sweet and inviting smell of vanilla, his signature scent that always reminded you of his charming presence. You felt your hands sweat and your heart began to pound in your chest. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. "Come in," he says, his voice deep and commanding. You take a deep breath and push open the door, your eyes immediately drawn to his handsome face. He's dressed in a suit, looking every inch the successful businessman, with an aura of authority that fills the room. "You're late," he says, his eyes narrowing as they lock onto yours. The intensity of his gaze makes you feel as if he's peering into your very soul. You can feel your body trembling as you muster the courage to apologize, your voice shaking. "I'm sorry, I'll make sure it won't happen again," you say, your eyes fixed on the ground, too ashamed to meet his piercing stare. "Look at me when you speak," he commands, his voice softening but still carrying an edge of authority. You raise your eyes to meet his, and you can feel your body responding to his gaze. His eyes, dark and captivating, hold a mixture of disappointment and something else that makes your heart race. He stands up from behind his desk, slowly making his way towards you. The scent of his cologne, a tantalizing blend of vanilla and sandalwood, becomes more pronounced, wrapping around you like an invisible embrace. You swallow hard, trying to steady your breathing. "You know how important this meeting was," he continues, his voice low and almost gentle now, but with a hint of flirtation that sends shivers down your spine. As he speaks, his hands come to rest on your small waist, his touch both comforting and electrifying. He gently caresses your sides before his fingers move to adjust your skirt, smoothing it out. He glances down and notices the wrinkles, a playful smirk appearing on his lips. "You really should take better care of your appearance," he says, his tone teasing as his eyes meet yours again. "A wrinkled skirt doesn't quite match the professional image we're aiming for, don't you think?". The tension in the room was thick, almost suffocating. San's eyes remained locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. You could feel the heat rising between the two of you, the air charged with an electric current that made your skin tingle. His hands, still resting on your waist, gripped you a little tighter as he leaned in closer. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating that made your knees weak. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, "You know, I've been very patient with you." Your pulse quickened at the low, seductive tone of his voice. "I-I'm sorry," you stammered, trying to maintain your composure, but it was getting harder by the second with him standing so close. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes dark and dangerous, filled with something that sent shivers down your spine. "Sorry isn't enough," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You need to prove to me that you understand the gravity of your mistakes."

Before you could respond, he moved suddenly, pinning you against the wall with a force that took your breath away. His leg slid between yours, his knee pressing against your core in a way that made you gasp. The hard length of his arousal was unmistakable as it brushed against you through the fabric of his pants, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. "Do you think this is a joke to me?" he asked, his tone dripping with dominance as he looked down at you, his lips curling into a smirk. His hands slid down to the hem of your skirt, and with one swift movement, he hiked it up, exposing your thighs to the cool air of the office. You could barely think, barely breathe as his fingers trailed over your skin, teasingly light as they made their way to the curve of your ass. He cupped it, squeezing just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I think you need a little reminder of who's in control here." Your body responded to his touch with a mind of its own, your hips pushing forward instinctively as his knee pressed harder against you. The pressure was maddening, driving you to the edge of sanity. You felt his fingers trail down the curve of your ass, his hand slipping beneath the fabric of your panties. The rough, teasing graze of his fingertips against your sensitive skin made you shudder. "You like this, don't you?" he murmured against your neck, his voice thick with lust as he began to caress you more firmly. You couldn't suppress the soft moan that escaped your lips, and you felt his grip on you tighten in response. He leaned back just enough to look at you, his eyes roaming over your flushed face, your parted lips. The satisfaction in his expression was clear as he watched your reaction. Slowly, deliberately, he began to unbuckle his belt, the sound of leather sliding through metal sending a thrill of anticipation through you. Your hands, trembling slightly, moved to help him, undoing the buckle and sliding the belt free. You glanced up at him, your breath catching as you saw the hunger in his eyes. You pulled down his zipper, feeling the heat radiating from his body as you exposed him fully. His erection was already glistening with precum, and your mouth watered at the sight. You knelt in front of him, your hands wrapping around his length as you looked up at him, seeing the way his eyes darkened with desire. He watched you intently as you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip, tasting the saltiness of his arousal. The groan that escaped his lips was deep and primal, and it spurred you on, your movements becoming more confident, more eager. You felt him throb in your mouth, and his hands tangled in your hair, guiding you as you moved up and down his length, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked him deeper. His breathing became ragged, and you could feel the tension in his body as he fought to maintain control. But it wasn't long before you felt the first pulse, his release spilling into your mouth as he groaned your name. You swallowed, savoring the taste of him, but a bit of it dribbled from the corner of your lips.

He wasn't done with you yet. In a swift motion, he pulled you to your feet, his hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and he kissed you hard, his lips claiming yours. You could taste the remnants of his release on your lips as he kissed you, the intensity of it making your head spin. San moved with purpose, carrying you to his desk and bending you over it, your skirt still hiked up around your waist. His hand slid between your legs, his fingers finding your wetness with ease. He teased you for a moment, rubbing slow circles that made you moan softly, your body arching in response. "You're soaked," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "I bet you've been thinking about this for a long time, haven't you?" You couldn't find the words to respond, too lost in the sensation of his fingers playing with you, teasing you mercilessly. He pulled his hand away suddenly, and you whimpered at the loss, but the sound turned into a gasp as you felt him position himself at your entrance. He didn't hesitate, driving into you with a force that made you cry out, your hands clutching at the desk for support. The fullness of him inside you was overwhelming, your body stretching to accommodate him as he began to move, his thrusts hard and deep. The pleasure was overwhelming, every nerve in your body alight with sensation as he took you, his pace relentless. You could hear the sounds of your bodies colliding, the slickness of your arousal, the heavy breathing and moans that filled the room. The thought of your coworkers hearing you, knowing exactly what was happening behind the closed doors of his office, only heightened the intensity. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, the pleasure building to a climax that you coudn't hold back. San's hand round its way between your legs again, his fingers rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, your body trembling as you cried out, the pleasure too intense to contain. He followed you over moments later, his body tensing as he buried himself deep inside you, his release filling you as he groaned your name, the sound of it echoing in your ears as you both collapsed onto the desk, exhausted and satisfied. The room was filled with the scent of sex and the lingering sweetness of his cologne. You lay there, your body still trembling, your mind reeling from the intensity of what had just happened. San's hand trailed lazily up your back, his touch gentle now as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. “Don’t think you’ve escaped so easily", he murmured, his voice soft and teasing. "But I think we can discuss your punishment later." You couldn’t help but smile, despite the lingering soreness in your body. You knew you were in for a lot more than just a warning, and the thought of it sent a delicious thrill through you. As you gathered yourself, smoothing down your skirt and trying to regain some semblance of professionalism, San stepped back, watching you with that same smirk on his lips. He looked every bit the dominant, powerful man you had fantasized about, and now that fantasy had become your reality. And as you walked out of his office, your legs still shaking slightly, you couldn’t help but wonder just how far he would take this game of dominance and submission. One thing was certain: the office was about to become a much more interesting place.

[rainydayathogwarts]

The rabbit hole - Remus Lupin

remus lupin has a way with all the ladies, even the popular girls wc: 1.3k

Despite not being the most sought after marauder, Remus Lupin got more than enough attention from the ladies. Everyone knew it, especially you, who lived around girls always gushing about their newest crush. You have to admit, his name did come up a few times. But did it even matter? The term 'popular' wasn't one you’d use to describe yourself because you didn’t believe in putting people up on pedestals, including yourself. However, you couldn’t help it if those words were thrown at you by other people. You weren’t mad at it; getting attention from boys and being admired by younger girls was fulfilling and validating, and meant you never had trouble finding dates when you got bored. 

Unfortunately, it seemed you had fallen into the same rabbit hole many other girls surrounding you fell into - the rabbit hole called 'wanting the one man who wasn't interested'. You don’t know when this fascination over him started, but you assumed it had to do with the fact that he didn’t pay any attention to you. It was refreshing, but frustrating. Guys always gave you what you wanted, or made the first move. Remus, on the other hand, had only ever spoken to you in class when you’d be paired up, and he’d never made a pass at you, unlike the two friends at his right and left side who had both previously flirted with you at parties in an attempt to getting on your roster. You had laughed and thrown a snarky comment at them before amusedly walking away. But Remus Lupin and his stupid chestnut hair had caught your eye, and when you wanted something, you didn’t stop until you got it.

Remus had noticed this new attention from you in potions class - a simple doe eyed look from you when you’d asked him to get pearl dust for your potion had him doing a double take, making sure he hadn’t imagined your signature move. He’d heard boys talking, and he had to admit, even he was intrigued by you. “Mate she just gave me those eyes...” was a popular start to a sentence when he heard boys exchange stories, but now that he’d laid his eyes on them himself, he knew he was in for it.

On the way back to his dorm, he wondered if that was you making a first move, or just a subtle ask for him to make a move. He decided that he'd wait and see, make sure he hadn't been mistaken and make a fool of himself by throwing himself into something nonexistent. The more he waited, the harder it was to hold himself back. Of course, Remus prided himself on being respectful to all women and being quiet, which is what drew many of the ladies in. This meant that he tried incredibly hard to hold back the flirtatious comments and sly responses during lessons. You knew the game he was playing, because you often took the route of playing hard to get.

"You're being delusional" Sirius finally told him, James nodding from his spot beside him on Peter's bed. "Like, good for you man if there is anything there, but there isn't." James said teasingly. "No- I swear! She's flirting with me! She's flirting and I'm enjoying it! She's flirting and now I like her, and now I'm like every other guy at Hogwarts." Sirius and James exchanged a look. "Well you're not like every other guy if you actually end up with her. How many guys have you heard of who actually became her boyfriend?" He thought long and hard, and when he looked back at the other two, knew they shared the same number. "None."

The map showed that you were alone by the black lake. If he wanted to catch you in time, he'd have to hurry along. He stole a book off his bed before rushing off, haphazardly throwing his jumper somewhere into the dorm. He slowed down his pace once he made it past the main entrance, catching his breath as he began walking in your general directly. Remus didn't want to seem to obvious, so he marked the page he had left his book from with his index finger dipping between the pages. His breath hitched when he got closer to you, realising you were just in shorts and a bikini top, enjoying the spring sun, a boombox next to you playing some music.

"Any chance I could sit in the shade under that tree without looking like a total creep?" He asks, gesturing to the tree merely a couple of meters from you. Your eyes flutter open, a hand coming to your face to protect your eyes from the sun. "Mhmm, I don't think there is. But that's okay, I'm used to being admired." Remus scoffs, sitting down with his back against the tree, and opens up his book. From the corner of his eyes, he sees your body turning in his general direction, as though surprised that he's not giving you any attention. If that was the case, his mission was already succeeding. He feels the hesitation from you, glancing up at you to see you open and close your mouth, speechless. You turn onto your back once more, closing your eyes with a sigh.

You both sit there in comfortable silence, but Remus hasn't turned a single page of his book and despite you having your eyes closed, the only thing you can think of is how close he is to you. Suddenly, you sit up, turning to take a long sip of the water bottle next to you. Remus has to pretend he wasn't looking at you, but when you address him by his first name, his head immediately snaps up to meet your gaze. "Yes?" "Want to go in for a swim?" Well he wasn't expecting that. You grin when he begins to stutter; you'd finally caught him off guard for the first time since you'd started flirting with him three weeks ago. "Well, I'm- I'm not in my swimmers." You cock your head to the side, raising an eyebrow at him. "Is that a problem?"

Yes, Remus wants to say. Yes, because I have scars and I'm insecure, and I don't want you to see me like that. But he doesn't say any of those things. Instead, he stands, and you follow his movements promptly. You wait for him to take at least his shirt off, but he only loosens his tie, pulling it over his head before stalking towards you predatorily. You try to take a step away from him when the proximity becomes too intimidating for you, but one of his hands snakes around your waist and your breath is hitching and he's leaning his head down close to your ear and you only hear "Hold your breath" before you're being whisked into his arms and your feet are leaving the ground.

You're suddenly gasping for air, breaking through the surface of the water, but you immediately spot Remus's grinning face, shaking his hair away from his eyes and you can't be mad. Like physically, it is impossible for you, even if your denim shorts are now all wet and you almost died. But you're swimming towards him and holding onto him with your legs wrapping around his waist and somehow you're leaning into him and pressing your lips against his. The position is weird: Remus can probably reach the ground, his hands supporting your denim-clad hips whilst your hands grip onto his wet uniform, but in some odd way, it's perfect.

The second you pull away, Remus's eyes are widening and he's muttering "Oh, no." Confused, you turn to see what he's looking at, only to spot a quickly approaching figure called the insolent Filch, already yelling about "Jumping in with Uniform!" and "Get them Mrs. Norris!"

[authorhjk1]

Hi! Hope you can make something spectacular of Joy in this pls. The kind to easily suck her nonstop iykwim. 🥵

Blue

(Joy X Male Reader)

"You taste delicious."

You mumble into Joy's pussy, before taking a deep breath.

"I-Oh!"

Joy's words are cut off, when you resume eating her out.

After Seulgi gave in to the temptation, you were sure the rest of them would as well. And you weren't surprised at all, when it was Joy who took your hand and let you out of the girls' dressing room.

In this very moment, Irene is doing her job as a host for one of the music shows, while you are devouring her bandmate's sweet pussy.

Just like Seulgi, Joy doesn't have a clue that Irene is in on this as well. She thinks you are cheating on her leader.

You are still surprised that both women are completely fine with fucking a taken man. Even if it's one of their best friend's boyfriend. Although, you do remember that Joy and Irene had an argument this morning. You don't know what it was about. But this might be the reason, why Joy is doing is. Or at least one of the reasons.

"Oh, fuck. Your tongue."

Joy whines as she feels your tongue pressing on her clit.

"H-How isn't unnie constantly sitting on your face?"

Her lewd question makes you smile into her pussy as you keep eating her out.

While Irene does like to be fucked in front of the others, receiving oral is something she deems too intimate for the girls to see. It doesn't make sense to you, since she would happily suck you off in the living room, while they watch TV.

"Fuck! I'm gonna-!"

Joy's body trembles, her legs close around your head.

"Oh god!"

Her loud cry makes you wonder, if Irene can her hear. The two of you aren't that far away from the stage.

Joy cums on your face as you lap up her juices. She tastes similar to Seulgi, but sweeter.

As you reappear from underneath her dress, you see Joy's face after a while. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes darker than usual.

"I wanna suck your dick."

She bites her lip, once she says those words. She can't help but get turned on even more at the thought of stealing Irene's boyfriend.

You push Joy to her knees in return, while you stand up. Your pants follow her to the floor a moment later.

"I can finally appreciate it, without her being in the way."

Joy's eyes glisten with, well... joy.

She quickly wraps her lips around your cock and starts sucking. She knows the two of you don't have much time left. The other girls will be looking for her soon and Irene is almost done too.

"Damn, baby."

Your moan makes Joy put in even more effort. The fact that you called her that, instead of Irene, almost makes her ruin the floor she is kneeling on.

"That's a good girl."

You sigh, holding her hair back, while you watch Joy in action.

Eventually, you do want more though. After a couple of moments, you slowly push her head off your cock.

"I want to fuck you."

Joy smiles up at you. She lets your dick fall out of her mouth, before gathering her saliva and spitting on it.

"How do you want me?"

She coats your cock in her saliva with her hands as she asks.

"Just try to be quiet."

You reply, knowing that she probably won't be able to.

After helping Joy off her knees, you lead her towards the couch and make her sit on it. The dressing room is right to Red Velvet's, where the other girls are, so you do hope she is not gonna be too loud. Instead of just fucking her on her back, you hook your arms underneath Joy's legs and fold her in half. Her knees are now pressed against her chest and her pussy reveals itself as the hem of her blue dress rides up.

"I'm gonna breed you now."

"Oh fuck, yes."

Joy gasps as she hears your words. You align yourself with her pussy and then you push inside of her.

"Dump all of that cum in me, baby. I want everything that's meant for her."

You have to laugh internally. Irene was right. Joy has a breeding kink. You don't know how she knows, but you appreciate her telling you.

"I'm gonna give you all of it. Your pussy will drip with my cum, while you talk to her."

Joy's eyes roll back as you start fucking her into the couch. The position she is in makes her look smaller than she actually is. And easier to handle. You use Joy's pussy like a fleshlight as you have your way with her. The only thing she can do is moan and whine. She can't move.

"Pound my pussy, yes!"

You want to quiet her, by leaning over and kissing her, but you know you wouldn't be able to keep up this pace at the same time.

"Oh god!"

Joy moans and moans as you fuck her. Harder and harder. Deeper and deeper. It's the perfect angle for your cock to penetrate her fully.

Joy's slick pussy is harder to resist than you thought. Soon, her juices make it too easy to slide inside of her. Her walls squeeze you too tight. Her eyes beg too much. Her moans are too loud. Her thighs feel too good in your hands.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Fill me up! Dump your load into your girlfriend's friend!"

You would laugh at her for not knowing what's actually going on, if she wouldn't be making you cum right now.

"Fuck Joy."

You hiss into her face as you shoot your load into her. Rope after rope of your cum paint her insides. You fill her to the brim with your seed.

"Yes, baby."

Joy sighs, the warmth of your cum overwhelming her.

[bunicate]

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕. itto x fem reader already burdened by your small chest, a rumor you happen to overhear makes you reluctantly ask your dear older brother for a helping hand.

warnings ꒱ྀི incest. reader has smaller breasts. tit sucking + minor worship ﾉ wc ꒱ 2k ﾉ 18+ ﾉ I wanted to write a haithy and wrio version as well but da wordz were not coming. can’t believe im writing for dis silly oni omg . . but enjoy pls <3

“don't be so crude, you idiot.”

it doesn’t take much to discern the confusion from his expression. itto had a range of maybe three emotions.

other than his overwhelming display of pride and exuberance, there’s always room for his dumbfoundedness. he’s frequently addled— his face constantly knitted together while his mind searches endlessly to find the answer, at least the one he thinks you want to hear, but he never really does.

“what ? you said you wanted me to help, right ?” he shrugs.

you narrow your eyes.

“I know what I said but you didn’t have to word it like . . . like that .”

like some animal, you want to say but instead you look at your brother in distaste.

too many times you find yourself struggling to accept the gap in your relationship. most people often make the wrong assumption of you being the older sibling and you have to begrudgingly correct them that no, you are in fact the younger and smarter sibling.

why couldn’t he tell that you’re already embarrassed enough as it is ? why do you have to spell it out and add to the duration of your suffering. by now, your cheeks are practically inflamed.

“how else do I ask ? oh , should I add the please ?” he pauses.

“show me your tits, please.”

he offers you a dopey smile of triumph. he’s proud of himself, thinking for once he’s finally appeased you, but he couldn’t be more wrong. so so wrong.

you’re aggressive with your sigh.

you were too smart to ask him of all people. you’re way too intelligent to believe in silly rumors and baseless gossip, but they tangle in the mire of your thoughts.

“if someone sucks on your breasts, they’ll grow !”

“huh ? no way. where did you hear that ?”

it was two women in passing, just talking and having a laugh and yet you can’t stop yourself from just wondering.

you’re not blessed like your brother. the oni towers over you, well over six feet. a mantle of bulging arms, broad shoulders, and thick thighs. he’s as big and intimidating as it gets but that aura quickly dispels every time he opens his mouth.

you on the other hand are thicker in other places, your chest, however . . . not so much.

you look down pathetically and think about all the colored tube tops that just didn’t fit you quite right.

what did you have to lose ? you’re pride maybe. you’re just as prideful as your brother, maybe even more, but the soft slopes of fat poking through your shirt mock you. they remind you that maybe you can afford to throw your ego away. temporarily.

you whine as your patience wears you thin.

murmuring a quick prayer to archons to have them spare you from further embarrassment, you bury your doubts in the back of your mind.

“I hate you.”

you lift your shirt quickly, just ripping the bandaid off.

you expose your breasts to the cool air and to surprised vermillion hues.

the longer he stared, the more you wanted to hide. of all the array of emotions you’ve seen, ( three ) you can’t pinpoint this exact one. it’s new to you. it borders on unbridled warmth, but then after a few seconds of your nipples perking from his gaze, it dithers. . . and then he fucking squints.

“so small.”

there’s a beat of silence and it takes that brief moment to even register that you did not mishear him. you’re not sure what you expected.

itto certainly isn’t the brightest and his emotional intelligence is nearly non-existent, and still, you’re taken aback by his talent to be consistently unaware.

you feel awkward and vulnerable in the middle of the room. you bared yourself to him, your insecurity right to his face, and the only thing he could do was confirm that you are indeed a small-chested oni. it shouldn’t bother you, but it does.

you liked to think you could handle the truth just as much as you bluntly dished it out, but this time you couldn’t.

a flash of white-hot anger runs through you at his audacity. you yank your shirt down eager to hide in your room and cry about your humiliation. you’ll write his name in big stupid letters in your fuzzy-covered journal and call him a big fat meanie. i for idiot, t for trashy , t for terrible, and a big fat o for obtuse.

“asshole !” you scream.

you can tell he’s surprised by your outcry. you glare at him hoping that he would turn to ashes on the spot, but unfortunately, he doesn’t.

he’s too busy panicking. he’s struck with the startling realization that he’s messed up again and that you were pissed.

so many times you’ve stomped your pink heels in anger and strutted away, mini skirt riding up with every step you took. and each time he reacts the same.

he tries to fix it.

he’s quick to react, immediately reaching for you in urgency. “w-wait wait wait wait ! where ya’ going ?”

“ oh, don’t you dare touch me you, oaf ! you think I don’t know that they’re small already ? why would you say that ?! “ you pull away more than desperate to increase the distance from him.

“hey hey hey. calm down, baby sis. m’not making fun of you.”

it takes his hands resting on your shoulders and the worried look in his eyes to make you come to a stop.

you lick your lips and take a shaky breath.

he’s right.

itto is many things but never a bully. he’d never say anything purposefully mean, no matter how much you bad-talked him. he’s kind and loyal but unfortunately, all the brains just happen to go to you .

“I didn’t mean to make ya feel bad,” he says sheepishly. “jus’ think they’re cute, that’s all.”

he releases his grip on you to scratch behind his head, eyes flickering to your chest again. a blush colors his face to a shade of carnations.

you’re a sweet girl with an unfiltered mouth that would bend to no one, not even to the archons themselves. and you were tearing him apart with that pout and your pretty nubs peeking through the fabric of your shirt.

he’s your big brother and he angered you quite a lot but, never deliberately. but this time he’s determined, for once he wants to ease your worries and not add to them.

he stands a bit closer brushing away a saltine tear that regretfully falls.

“If ya still want me to do it, I will. I think . . . it could work if I just do it hard enough.”

you don’t answer him but you don’t think you need to.

he searches your eyes trying to find any sign of disapproval. itto remains unsure, he’s never good at picking up on the small nuances of your emotions and so he tugs at your shirt in uncertainty.

still angry and embarrassed, you look up at his stupidly handsome face and relent.

“jus’ do it you big dummy.”

like everything else you expect him to handle you roughly. to rip your shirt and bite and suck at your nipples until they bruise under his touch, but he does the opposite.

his free hand travels around your sternum at first, surprisingly gentle. his fingers are soft when they circle around your breasts, tenderly flicking the flesh to watch them jiggle. he thumbs at your wide areolas, tracing the tiny bumps in complete fascination.

you grow uncomfortable at how intimate it felt. his eyes are blown wide, drinking up the sight of your tits rising with each shuddered breath.

“d-don’t play with them. jus’ hurry up n’ suck .” you leap at the opportunity to break the tension, but somehow you’ve made it worse.

as soon as the words leave your mouth, he responds just as fast. it nearly knocks the wind out of you when his mouth latches onto your breast.

they’re small but there’s so much flesh , so much chub that itto can’t stop playing with. his tongue laps at your left mound, licking underneath it, licking around it, and sucking at all the fat he can fit into his mouth. he’s noisy, grossly so . he groans and curses each time he has to detach his mouth from your nipple to come up for air.

“pretty tits taste s’good, “ he slurs. he can’t form the words, not when he’s desperate to fondle your breasts with his slippery tongue.

itto squeezes you so tight, it nearly hurts but you couldn’t dare tell him to ease up. there’s something hard rubbing on your lower stomach and you're scared to even dare to think about what it could be.

he slowly drags his rough flesh up and down your mound, shivering when your nipple grazes his appendage. his fingers grope at your waist and hips, palms nearly enclosing your smaller figure.

“f-fuck , you’re tiny. m’not hurting you, am I ?”

you don’t trust yourself to speak, terrified a moan would spill instead, so you shake your head.

he’s over two feet taller than you, pressing you into a corner and he has to remind himself that you’re his little sister. his dainty, spit-fire little sister who’s tits he’s currently mouthing on to rid her of her troubles.

he’d suck long and hard hoping your already perfect tits would someday be perfect to you. he wants to make you proud and show you he’s not just some rowdy oni. he’ll kiss and suck as long as you needed him to.

he tucks your nipple back into his mouth, puckering around the flesh like a sour candy.

you’re as pillowy and as delicate as he remembers. he almost forgot how he sinks into you. how his firm stomach settles into your soft one and he’s painfully reminded that his erect cock has been slowly rutting against you.

sucking your tits was riling him up. it was making him act in that brutish way that you hated, but he was trying so hard to keep from lining his cock with your opening and milking your cunt dry.

the oni has to pull away to gather himself. he takes the time to marvel at his work.

your right bosom is drenched in spit, puffy and swollen from his ministrations. he smiles.

“It looks bigger already, don’t ya think ?“

“shut it !”

another insult dies in your mouth as you're still catching your breath. an oni’s nose is extremely sensitive and you wonder if he could smell the arousal fermenting between your thighs.

“let me do the other one okay, baby. don’t want them to be uneven right ?”

“w-wait itto maybe we should s— eek !”

you need another moment of reprieve but you don’t get the chance. he puts the other tit in his mouth, tongue greedily flicking against the nub which tears a squeal from your lips.

itto is confident his methods will work just as sure as he’s about to blow a load in his pants.

“gonna suck your tits until they fatten up. isn’t that right, little one ?”

you mewl at the pleasure and the softness of which he utters a name he hasn’t called you in years.

“s-stop talking so much ! just be quiet and and —hnnn— stop teasin’ !”

he continues his assault on your chest, cock chubbing against his pants.

“m’sorry,” he slurs. “can’t help it.” his groans are fanning against your chest while he drools on your sensitive peaks. “let nii-nii take care of you . . just relax f’me. . . just take it.”

he’s hard. cums crowns his tip as he keeps conjuring up thoughts of wiping his cock over your tits, rubbing the head around your puffy brown nipple.

you smell good, you taste better and itto for once doesn’t care if you think he’s gross. he wants to milk your tits and suck until they become sweet little prunes , just so he can make it better.

your panties grow sticky as his sucks grow rougher. even if your breasts didn’t jump up a cup size you think that maybe this was worth it. to have him close, to have him drool and worship your tits and feel his cock straining against you.

his eyes closed, still nursing on your teat sweetly. your hand buries itself in his thick mane that draped over his shoulder smelling faintly of your shampoo.

it silently encourages him to keep going, leading to both of your undoings. the hand running through his hair tugs on his roots but then suddenly stills.

you see a brief flash of something and you gasp.

“itto why on earth is your dick out ?”

“can I put just the tip in ? please?”

[arguablysomaya]

Nightwing's weird fem-coding

! LONG POST !

Finally got around to jotting down my thoughts on the weird way that Dick Grayson (Nightwing) often occupies female-coded roles without being a particularly feminine guy. This is entirely due to me procrastinating on my finals. Okay!

Dick has often been cited as the hero who plays into the "female gaze", and he takes up some key roles that are typically reserved for women characters.

A large portion of Dick's fem-coding is contingent on his being with his family, and when he's not with them, this fem-coding kinda drops away, such as when he's with his various teams or acting solo.

His most prominent (and imo, complex) femme-coded role is:

-> Eldest Daughter + Widow

Eldest daughter syndrome means " frequently feeling like you’re not doing enough, like you’re struggling to maintain a veneer of control, like the entire household relies on your diligence." It's born out of the unique way that first-born girls are expected to take on adult roles around the household before they've had an opportunity to fully experience childhood (an opportunity their younger siblings will have, in part due to this sacrifice). It creates a strong sense of independence and a desire to be a good role model, but also leads to undue pressure and perfectionism.

Dick acts as a central emotional pillar for those in his family. To the point that when he fakes his death, it breaks something fundamental in the family dynamic:

Not only is it repeatedly made clear that Bruce depends on Dick to act as a lifeline for his own mental struggles, but moreover, his siblings do as well. In a very literal sense, the maintenance of the batfamily rests on Dick's shoulders. Bruce is so rarely available for emotional support that these children turn to the next best thing, which, to be fair, is better than what Dick had growing up. He has to clean up so many breakdowns, it's honestly pretty staggering.

As the OG sidekick, Dick receives quite a bit of hero worship, particularly from younger heroes/sidekicks, who look toward him for guidance. As a naturally upbeat and welcoming person, Dick ends up in the position of bringing light to everyone, not just Bruce. For example, here's Cassandra:

This balancing effect is unique to Dick's skill set. However, this can (and does) backfire very easily. The same pragmatism Bruce engages in hurts extra bad when coming from Dick: like when Dick had to take Robin away from Tim. Not to mention just how intimidating Dick's legacy is, which can create resentment when his successors aren't able to play this role so easily. For example, Jason both before and after his death expressed insecurity that he felt he was constantly being compared to Dick, and falling short.

As the original character that people think of when they think "sidekick", DG Robin (and his successors) had the advantage of not losing prominence even as his contemporaries (Kid Flash, Aqualad, Wonder Girl, etc.) were de-prioritized in favor of independent teenaged heroes (like Cyborg, Beast Boy, Raven, and Starfire). But that means Robin as a concept now has to deal with questions that weren't so prominent in the earlier decades, such as: "How do we justify a grown-ass man using a child (and in fact, children) as emotional crutches?"

It's icky to think about, but there's no denying that early Batman and Robin got side eyes for homosexual subtext. I mean, they literally call each other "partners". So while that "subtext" was, and remains, just audience speculation, given Dick is literally Bruce's adopted son, there is room, I believe, to call into question how healthy it is for Bruce's oldest kid to be taking on a nearly-parental role and be a core pillar of Bruce's emotional regulation.

Hot take here, but I think Dick's relationship with Bruce was/has been pretty emotionally incestuous for a long time.

-> Emotional incest

"Emotional incest[...] is a type of emotional abuse performed by a parent. In cases of emotional incest, parents rely on their children for significant emotional support, which is a reversal of roles. Emotional incest is more than just relying on your kids on occasion—rather, it is an extreme dependence on them." (There's a pretty good argument to be made that Bruce has been emotionally incestuous with all his Robins, especially Dick and DEFINITELY Tim, but y'know. Small steps.)

Emotional incest is a semi-common consequence of eldest daughter syndrome; the natural conclusion of deputizing a child to manage the other children combining with an inability to see the child as a child, still in need of emotional guidance, but more like an adult capable of shouldering the burdens of grown-ups dumping their traumas on them.

To be clear here, while emotional incest may not be incest in the most traditional, taboo sense, it is still abuse. It's putting a burden on a child they shouldn't have to carry, even for children that aren't dealing with such extreme burdens as "grown-ass man running around in a fursuit needs me to keep him from getting himself killed". It's a perversion of a healthy parent-child relationship, where the child is treated more like a partner than a child. In Dick's case, it further exacerbates the parentification he already experiences. This is made more explicit when Bruce "dies" and Dick is cast into a sort of "Widow" role.

Dick reluctantly dons the cowl in an attempt to bring order to his family members. He's also left to parent Damian, alone. He has to make the decision to take Robin from Tim, and try to deal with the fallout from that decision. He has to put a stop to Jason's fratricidal rampage. He's made into the de-facto head of the family.

And the thing about this is: Dick's not even bad at it. In comparison to Bruce's litany of disasters-in-parenting, Dick does a pretty bang-up job of managing his siblings, heading the Justice League, and being Batman. But the crucial point is that he does this at the expense of his own mental health, which is the crux of eldest daughter syndrome. There's no denying that at the time, Dick was most certainly the best choice for New Father Figure, but it was a choice he was pushed into, and a sacrifice he had to make. When this sense of responsibility to the point of self-sacrifice is pushed to its logical conclusion, it has the effect of making Dick a Martyr-type figure.

-> Protector/Mama Bear/Avenger

Dick has shown repeatedly that his hot button is his family. From Tony Zucco to allowing Blockbuster to be killed after the villain targeted Haley's Circus, going after Nightwing's family is a pretty good way to earn yourself an asskicking. Probably the most infamous example of this is when Dick thought the Joker had killed Tim, beating the clown to death to avenge both Tim and Jason.

And while this role isn't particularly feminine, I do think it's interesting that Dick protects his family members from each other with almost the same frequency that he protects them from outside threats. He's pretty notorious for wrangling Damian and Tim, foiling Jason's murder plans, and most importantly, beating the shit out of Bruce whenever he crosses a line, such as when Bruce asks Dick to conceal being alive from their family to join Spyral or when Bruce wanted to abandon the Bruce Wayne persona after the murder of Vesper Fairchild. Or of course, more recently after Bruce's latest MK-ULTRA shenanigans.

This basically puts Dick in the position of being the glue that holds the family together, at basically all times, but especially in times of conflict. This also means he's put in the dangerous position of bodily defending his younger siblings from Bruce's wrath or irresponsibility, a position made even more awkward given the whole emotional incest thing.

That's not to say that Dick's relationship with his family is 100% unhealthy. Dick and his family members (including Bruce!) feel legitimate affection and care for each other. There are times when the dynamics here are indeed healthy. And like most people with eldest daughter syndrome, the unhealthy nature of this dynamic is usually understated. Oldest sibling syndrome is often just an unavoidable consequence of how parenting works. So while I am of the opinion that this dynamic is often unhealthy, hot take: I'm fine with that.

Now, though I've just listed some tropes that he only falls into around family, Dick also falls into some fem-coding all the time, regardless of who he's with, and these have to do mostly with his sexuality.

-> Sexual Assault & Harassment

Yeah, so nobody is surprised that this is a factor. Look up any list of the top ten hottest/sexiest/most attractive male superheroes, I guarantee 9/10 times Nightwing is number 1. However, unlike his father, whose attractiveness is usually played as a part of the male wish-fulfillment fantasy, something people aspire to be, Dick's attractiveness more often makes him an object of desire- very similar to how most attractive female characters are perceived.

And as an object of desire, Dick Grayson is constantly having to deal with being objectified.

Now, Dick Grayson being an attractive character is not the problem. Dick Grayson being sexually assaulted isn't even the problem. the problem is that he keeps being harassed, assaulted, and raped in ways that are flagrantly nonconsensual, and yet it's not treated with the seriousness it deserves. In fact, it took a full decade for Devin Grayson to retract her previous statement and admit that yes, the rooftop scene with Catalina Flores was in fact rape, and it's never been acknowledged in-universe (though, comics have always been atrocious at calling out sexual abuse of all kinds, let alone that which targets men).

Hell, even when he in-universe calls it out, he's dismissed immediately and the story continues like nothing happened.

Like???

Dick's adult sexcapades (which were consensual and enthusiastic) have long contrasted with the numerous times he's been harassed; times in which he comes across as bored, exasperated, and even frustrated with his own attractiveness and the vulnerable position it often leaves him in.

This puts him in the rare (in comics) position of being a male character who consistently and near-exclusively has his sexual agency and boundaries violated by women - a position that authors uniformly refuse to examine despite writing him into it all the fucking time.

Other characters around him frequently make comments passing off this harassment and assault as a natural consequence of Dick's own attractiveness, making "jokes" that essentially amount to "I understand why someone would want to assault him". Which- UH?

There is also, of course, the unavoidable reality that as an acrobat and an aerialist, he receives a very specific type of sexual harassment

the nature of nightwing's fight style necessitates a type of tight-fitting suit that male heroes typically don't go for: an extremely slick suit with bare-minimum armour that again, makes him vulnerable in a way most male heroes aren't, but a style female heroes wear all the time, whether it makes sense for them or not. This of course then allows artists to draw attention to this fact by posing Nightwing in poses usually reserved for femme fatales:

And unlike the Hawkeye Initiative, these poses are (largely) unironic, and not played for jokes. Dick isn't arching his back or looking over his shoulder to poke fun at how female heroes are treated; he does so because the artist (clearly correctly) sincerely believed these poses would play into the unironic gaze of the audience, and also probably thought it was hot. It's the same line of thought artists use when posing femme fatales.

He's even been known to use his sexuality as a bargaining chip, much like more traditional Femme Fatales. In Batman and Harley Quinn (2017), he refers to sleeping with Harley Quinn after being kidnapped by her as one of "the things I do for Gotham", to which she responds "I'm taking that as a 'yes'." And that's uh- not how consent works.

And this particularly sucks because- HELLO? The opportunity to explore the very real and tragically underacknowledged phenomenon of sexual violence against men is literally invaluable, especially with such a prominent character. It's one thing to ignore that men face sexual violence, it's another, entirely more unforgivable thing to continuously and explicitly depict such scenarios and play them off as jokes or not as serious as they clearly are. But what did I expect from an industry that has never had a good track record on sexual violence anyway.

-> Queercoding?

There's also of course the fact that DC has been, as of late, dropping hints that Dick might be bisexual.

That on it's own doesn't mean anything, but when paired with the fact that DC has been angling toward giving Dick a similar playboy persona that Bruce has, just with men included, it's just very interesting.

(BTW: The likelihood DC actually commits to making Dick bi is, uh, not a lot, but if they're gonna stick with this weird closet stuff for a while, let's hope they do so in a way that doesn't make him sound like a cross between Donald Trump and Harry Styles next time? Please?)

Anyway, all of this is basically to say I am forever fascinated by the gender dynamics of Dick Grayson, likely due to the fact that I'm projecting all my eldest daughter traumas onto him, and that someone who's background is in Gender Studies needs to get on this shit if they haven't already. I just love this character sm.

[blacknedsoul-blog]

An unnecessarily detailed analysis of the (re)encounter between Annabel and "Leo" (part II)

Evil tongues say I've had this shit in the oven for several weeks because I bought the fast pass on episode 105 and smoked the whole season one afternoon when I was bored as a fucking oyster about to climb the walls. Don't listen to them, they're telling the truth.

So, yeah, people. We had a flashback. One that comes right after the last one we had. Aside from the fact that we finally know a little more about Theo, I want to focus on the direct sequel to a review I did a while back. So let's get started.

I'm still trying to decide if Annabel is complaining just because she had to get off her ass or because "Leo's" room being so far away from hers is, ahem, inconvenient. Another detail that someone mentioned on the discord, is that Annabel does this thing where she grabs her dress when she is trying to maintain the performance.

(later edit: someone commented to me that actually their rooms are ridiculously close to each other. So allow me to insert ridiculous jokes about how the first thing Ira will do when these two are engaged is take his precious daughter who is not to be touched before marriage somewhere else).

...Ah, they put... they put Annabel in Lenore's old room. Yeah, that must have been uncomfortable as shit. 

Okay. This is something I kind of suspected in her first stolen moment at the Arboreum, but I think this confirms it for me: yes, Lenore teasing Annabel is a way of expressing annoyance without being directly hurtful. 

Raise your hand if you enjoy seeing "Miss Proper Lady" lose her fucking temper. Bonus points if she deserves it. 

Lenore, I don't know if taking your clothes off is the best way to get Annabel to stay on topic. I do want to emphasize her face in that moment, though, like she knows Annabel cares about her, but she's still angry at her, and pressuring her to drop the mask is literally the only way she has to express it. I like it because it's consistent with her stolen moment in the Arboreum. 

"Admire this magnificent door made of door. Yes, an excellent door. Wonderful door. Eyes on the door, Annabel, eyes on the door and not on your crush taking off his jacket in front of you. Also, don't think too much about the fact that if anyone sees this, everything that is important to you will fall apart".  

Pause. Where did we see Annabel say that? Ah, yes. Well, if we had any doubts about posh besties, this confirms it. 

I want to linger on the faces of both of them in this scene because, for the love of Nyarlathotep, they are painful to watch knowing that this will end with both dead. 

Yes, Annabel, this "perhabs" was very VERY serious. 

I'm sure this is the second time in Annabel's life that someone has asked her if she wants something. And it's the same person. Ouch.

Does anyone else in the squad find it disturbing that ANNABEL is concerned about moral issues? 

That's not how Kabedons are made, missy. 

LENORE, LOOK AT THE FUCKING FACE SHE'S LOOKING AT YOU WITH, SHE WOULDN'T BE "PRETENDING TO BE IN LOVE WITH YOU", SHE'S EATING OUT OF YOUR FUCKING HAND RIGHT NOW. IF SHE WASN'T AFRAID OF JAIL AND WASN'T SO VICTORIAN, SHE'D BE ASKING IF SHE COULD GET IN YOUR PANTS.   

Okey, I need to know how this went from "pff, it's not a real marriage, we're both women!" to "I'm gonna fuckin' whore myself with Nyarlathotep Tumblrsexymen to come get you, baby. Shit, if these two die without having this conversation, I'm going to shoot myself in the mouth with a medieval arquebus. 

I like this moment because it tells you two interesting things: one is that Annabel must have a complicated relationship with her father, she cares for him and maybe feels he loves her in his own way, but at the same time Ira is her jailer, the main culprit of the golden cage she's trapped in. Another thing: we know Lenore used to care about her father, but come on, after everything that happened, I doubt she gives the man a second thought. 

...I wrote practically the exact same dialog in a fanfic. Actually, in the first Nevermore fanfic I ever wrote, when the fuck did my bullshit ever come true? 

I was racking my brain for a while about why Annabel keeps doing this. Like, look at this shit, even Ada or Morella would be able to see that this is bullshit. And I think I have an idea why. 

I think Annabel started to figure out how to make this work even before she came in. Maybe she's not all in, but at least the idea is tempting. The thing is, she's putting a lot on the line here: her life, her relationship with her father (the only family member we know of), what little freedom she has.

And that means she has to put her chips on the right person. She knows how the social game works, she knows how to manipulate the stakes of her hand, maybe she even thinks she knows how to get around those pesky legal snags when they come up. 

But she's not cunning, she's not quick-thinking, she lacks determination, and she's definitely not brave. Lenore can wrap herself in big dreams and beautiful words all she wants, but if she can't make up for Annabel's weaknesses, it's a losing bet from the start. On top of that, she has to be able to read her: in Victorian engagements, even your pet was into that shit, so sneaking away to plan things would be more of a rare privilege than a constant, her playmate has to be able to understand her perfectly, because they can't waste valuable time explaining minutiae. They have to be on the same page to the millimeter. 

Annabel is a player. And as such, she knows that in games where you have a partner, the key to winning isn't playing your own cards or chips well, it's being able to synchronize with your partner to give each other better plays until one of you manages to win. 

And if I had to bet, I think that is the Lenore that Annabel wants back: the Lenore who can read her, the Lenore who can get under her skin and know her true intentions even when Annabel is wearing the most perfect mask. The Lenore who can smile boldly and tell her that everything will be all right. 

Of course, Lenore passed the test. With a more than perfect score. 

The chapter ends with Lenore giving Annabel the final decision: if she sees no reason to stay, she won't, and she can assure her that she'll be fine. But if she's in, she'll do everything in her power to make it work. 

This was the moment that tore me up inside because it made me drop the shingle of sad, sad shit. 

Conclusions

And here's why I decided to post this analysis after the season.  

One thing this episode told me was that I was wrong about one thing: the relationship between these two isn't exactly what it used to be. What this episode also told me was that, despite everything, the two of them seemed to be able to communicate and find common ground, to make deals, to give each other choices. Shit we don't see anymore in their time in Nevermore. 

And with good reason.

In Nevermore Annabel and Lenore are adrift. No memories, no identity, no bonds. As if that weren't enough, both are terrified: Annabel has built all her means of survival around a context that she masters perfectly, and in Nevermore she doesn't know what's going on; on the other hand, Lenore's bravery and cunning are qualities that turn from virtues to flaws in a context where every single one of her decisions has repercussions for the people around her; she's willing to take anything, but not what happens to the people she loves. 

These two idiots know only one thing: that they love each other. And for Annabel and Lenore, loving means protecting. They have to try to protect each other because they really love each other. They love each other so much that they can't.

Because the only way for Annabel to protect Lenore is to be the queen of the board, to be the piece that everyone wants to get out of the way because her presence is too much of an inconvenience, because if she's good at anything,  it's dazzling so hard that no one is able to really see her. On the other hand, the only place Lenore can protect Annabel is by her side, she won't have a Spectre, but she's willing to do what it takes to take care of her if she stays where she can fight for her. 

But that won't happen because of the irreconcilable conflict caused by the memory (false or not, in practice it doesn't matter) that the Deans showed Annabel. She can't tell her that, she won't tell her that, how could she? It would tear Lenore apart and at worst alter her memories. But on the other hand, Lenore obviously wants to know, because she sees that Annabel is suffering, she wants to be there, she wants her to let her comfort her, to be by her side to help her sort this out, and all her pleas fall on deaf ears for reasons she can't even fathom.

But without realizing it, in all this devotion and accompanying fear, Annabel and Lenore are repeating the same controlling patterns of those who tried to save the other in life. 

Annabel is doing the same thing Thaddeus did when he got Lenore a fiancé, the same thing the doctors did when they kept her drugged 24/7 as a treatment even though she was sick, dare I say the same thing Theo did: assuming she knows better than she does what's good for her. "Protecting" her, even when that happens to be the agency Lenore is desperately trying to have over her life after being deprived of her freedom.

And on the other hand...this.

By taking full responsibility for what happened, Lenore is doing the same thing as Ira and all the people we meet in Annabel's life: denying her agency as an individual. Annabel is not a naive brat who was seduced by sweet words, she is a grown woman who was very, very clear about what the risks were. That they both ended up dead is partly her fault, but by turning this affair into "if I hadn't gone looking for you," Lenore completely invalidates Annabel's feelings, desires, and choices. 

A relationship that was once built on respect for choice and shared decision-making has now become a power game that neither can win, because one of the most important foundations of their relationship is that they are both equals. 

I'd like to end this on a more positive note, but...uh...well, the thing is, I don't. Like, that they're going to reconcile, they're going to reconcile, you know? But for that to happen, somebody's got to give them a massive punch like, something that tears them apart so they realize how fucking bad they are do-

You know what? Yeah, that might do it.

[sunnyhvnny]

Daemon / Maegor / Aemond

The wife start to love them after the birth of their first child. She stop to try run away and actually start to look at them with warm

Enjoy! ❤️

Tw: none!

Maegor Targaryen

Like most of Maegor’s wives, she was no different in the fact that she had no choice in marrying him. She remembers vividly, as does everyone else in the Keep probably, the night before she was to wed the King. When she climbed out of her window and made it halfway down the stone wall before she was caught.

Everyone knew of Maegor’s cruel and fearsome reputation. She hadn’t known what to expect but it wasn’t anything good. He ignored her most of the time until she began to swell with his child. After that, she couldn’t get rid of him.

The time he spent with her wasn’t just about the babe growing inside of her but about them. He’d take her on strolls throughout the gardens and show her what he did as the King when he wasn’t on his dragon. She, heavy with child, had even sat in on a few small council meetings.

At some point, sharing their time turned into sharing their fears and past and that was when she learned about his fear that this child that she held within her might come out monstrous and she wouldn’t survive the birth. She, in turn, told him that she feared the same. She had heard through the grapevine of what had happened to his previous wives and feared that she would meet her end in the same way. Whether in the birthing bed or by his sword if she birthed a babe that was something of nightmares.

He had stopped then and told her he wouldn’t be the reason for her demise. He would have everyone who knew anything about babes and childbirth be there when it was her time. He held true to his word, as her labors started later that night and she was quickly surrounded by experts or women who held her as she screamed. The one thing she didn’t expect, was her husband insisting on being there.

At first, she thought it was to make sure the babe wasn’t swapped but he held her hand the entire time and whispered encouraging words to her. As the time went by and the babe came closer and closer to arriving, she started to wonder if she felt genuine affection towards him. Her mother had always told her that a woman couldn’t trust their emotions while with child so she pushed those thoughts away and only thought about bringing her child into the world.

It was the hour of the owl when things had finally calmed. The babe had come and was pink, covered in blood, and healthy. It took some time for everyone to usher themselves out and for her to be cleaned up but finally, she and her husband had their child. A little girl that Maegor insisted on calling through Daenys. He showed no signs of disappointment at the child being a girl and only held the small bundle in his arms as he gently swayed her. Occasionally, he brushed a thumb through the tufts of white hair on her head but for the most part, he watched her in wonder.

She wasn’t surprised when she felt affection while looking at her husband and newborn. She was surprised when her husband smiled at her and she felt love.

Daemon Targaryen

She hated King’s Landing and she hated her husband. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She didn’t hate her husband but she hated the fact that she had no say in marrying him. That her father told her one day that she was to marry the prince. Her husband isn’t a hard man to read. She knows he wants no part in this marriage as well. She doesn’t know if there is someone else or if he also resents the fact that he had no choice but it doesn’t stop him from doing his duties as a husband.

Since they were wed, it was clear that Daemon found her attractive despite not wanting to be her husband. Perhaps, if she were a whore he’d buy a night with her, or if he found her on her own he would have talked her into sharing a night with him but instead, they were joined together by the seven and he didn’t have to have only one night with her.

Night were all it was in the beginning. He’d come in and fill himself with the pleasures she could offer and leave after he was done. It was a tiring and boring marriage and so she decided that she would leave. She paid a servant for their clothes and made her way out of the Keep, which was easier than she expected, and proceeded to run. She had no plan on where she was running to but soon she was out of the city and on one of the hills. She had forgotten which one, perhaps Visenya’s hill?

She hadn’t slowed down in time, though, and instead of skidding to a halt she tripped over her own feet and went hurtling over the cliff. The hill was high up and she had no idea if she would survive the fall but she was saved from the thought of death when she was grabbed midair and moved into a saddle. When she opened her eyes she saw Daemon and his dragon, the blood wyrm. She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up and out of her. Perhaps it was almost dying or the fact that her husband, who always seemed indifferent to her, was her savior.

Since she was small, she knew that the fates liked playing games and so she wasn’t surprised when only two weeks after her escape and rescue, she found out she was with child. It did surprise her when Daemon started to pay more attention to her. He didn’t seem like a man who was insistent on an heir but perhaps he thought she would take off again, this time with her child.

He had all of her things moved to his chambers and every second he could he spent time with her. It probably would have made her go insane had she made any friends in King’s Landing but she hadn’t so she chose to relish in his company. He was soft with her as her belly grew and she learned that not only was he deadly but he was caring and funny, too, in a dry sort of way.

What really surprised her was that when he was gone she found that she missed him and waited for him to return to her. She realized a while ago that the feelings she held for him were more than that of companionship but she would not dare to think or voice her actual feelings.

That was until she had given birth. It was painful and her screams, she was certain, could be heard in the city below, but it was quick and both she and the babe were healthy. When Daemon finally strode in, she smiled at him and then down at their son. She had gone through several different books of Valyrian and Targaryen history to find just to right name but looking down at her little boy who looked so much like his father, she felt her heart swell. She loved her boys and wanted to give Daemon something more than a babe.

“I believe we should name him Daemion.”

Aemond Targaryen

As far as she was concerned, she believed this marriage to be a farce. Before they wed, she had nothing against her new husband and perhaps if he had simply asked for her hand she would feel less animosity towards him every time she saw him.

Aemond had tricked everyone, though, which was the only reason she was now married to the prince. Everything had happened so fast. She remembered talking with princess Helaena about the upcoming tourney, how she favored a specific knight from the Vale, and that night she had been cornered by Aemond. She remembered her heart beating so hard that she thought it would fly out of her chest but he had simply covered her mouth with his hand and placed himself between her legs.

“Will you please stop squirming? I do not plan on doing anything to you.”

His words had confused her but nearly seconds after he had situated them in a compromising position, her father had stumbled upon them. Aemond had stumbled away from her like he had been in the middle of something and she could only look at him in surprise as her father dragged her to her chambers. It was only the next day that she realized the full scope of what had happened.

Aemond had not taken her virtue but he had made it look like he had and now her father was demanding the two be married. Within a week they were wed, “just in the chance that something comes out of your youthful dalliance,” the hand had said and she could only grit her teeth. Nothing would come of it but no one would believe her.

After they were wed, Aemond acted like the husband of stories and songs. He was affectionate, kind, and someone everyone would kill to be married to. Except, whenever he asked her about her day or walked with her through the gardens she felt like hitting him.

She had started to feel trapped. He had moved his things into her chambers and he ate his meals with her, every time he wasn’t training he was by her side. Sometimes she wondered if he acted this way because he wanted all of her time to himself or if it was because he didn’t want anyone else to have any part of her.

She had tried to escape from the Red Keep, her gullible parents, and her husband. She had thought it smart to take servant's clothes and sneak through the corridors only they used. She had made it all the way out to the yard, not yet to the gates, when her husband had found her. He looked cold and upset at the same time as he escorted her back to their shared chambers. No words were spoken and she couldn’t help but think the worst.

After her husband had a servant draw her a warm bath and let her soak in it for a while, he finally spoke. “I was with the maesters when you were making your getaway attempt. They have informed me that you have not bled in more than a moons turn.”

He didn’t need to say the words. She knew what he meant. She had been so diligent about drinking moon tea every morning, as her husband had a rather large appetite when it came to her. She sighed and closed her eyes when she remembered the day of the tourney. She and Aemond had been in bed all day and had missed the tourney completely. For the short few moments that he left and ordered the servants to bring food or drinks, she had been too tired to ask for the moon tea and the next day it had completely slipped her mind.

Her husband’s hand slid below the water and caressed her still flat abdomen. “I will have guards posted at the doors and only the servants that I approve of will be coming in here from now on. If you want to leave our chambers just ask me and I will accompany you. I don’t want anything to happen to you or the babe.”

He sounded so sincere when he said it that she wondered if he knew that he was taking away her freedoms. He stuck true to his words, though. The next morning she was awoken by a servant she had never seen before bringing her and her husband’s morning meal. When she tried to leave the rooms to go to the library, the guards outside stopped her. It was only hours later when her husband returned that he accompanied her to the library.

This routine had kept up longer than she thought it would. Her husband had stuck true to his words. She thought she would grow to resent him as time passed but with him being her only form of company she began to rely heavily on him. As her belly swelled, they talked and laughed and when the life inside her caused her to have mood swings, Aemond only held her until she calmed.

It was as they were waiting for her labors to begin that she realized that she had to put away the rocky start to their marriage. He had made it look like her virtue was compromised and that she would let a prince have his way with her in any corridor but when she thought back to it, she no longer felt angry. She felt nothing towards it truly. She only thought about the loving moments they shared together in this room after they had learned about the babe quickening inside of her.

The labors and the birth were quicker than anyone had expected or planned for. The baby was in the arms of the midwife just after one of the servants ran to tell Aemond.

By the time he walked into their chambers, still sticky with sweat but not a hair out of place, from training, she was laying on their bed with a fussing bundle in her arms. The joy that she felt when her husband walked in probably would have surprised her many moons ago but now she only smiled at him and waved him over to look at their child.

It was a little girl with tufts of silver hair and mismatched eyes. One violet and one a deep blue, both of which were staring up at Aemond curiously as he gently grabbed her and held her in his arms. As she looked on at her husband and daughter she felt love spread throughout her. Love for her baby and love for her husband.

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

Can I pretty please request a soulmate AU for this prompt: you have a meter/rating on your body that tells you how dangerous your soulmate is

With the character being Thomas Hewitt??

🥺🙏🏻

Tommy's got his soulmate

Thomas Hewitt x reader

Gender neutral reader

Warnings: mentions of reader being an outcast, slight angst with a fluffy ending, mentions of the smell of cigarette/ weed smoke.

The faint smell of smoke and cheap incense lingered inside the rather dated van as you sat in the back. Soft chattering over the humming of a local radio station made the ride through the desolate Texas road rather calming.

You and your friends were doing a cross country road trip for your final summer vacation for your university years. Friends was a rather long stretch for your relationship with them, yet it could be worse.

On everyone's right wrist was a 1 to 10 meter that showed how dangerous your soulmate was, beeping when you get close to your soulmate. While everyone you know had ones and twos with the occasional three rating, you've always had the rating of ten.

Your soulmate was simply dangerous. The only saving grace was the fact that it never beeped- never actually meeting them before. There were times when you wondered if your soulmate was in prison or in some rather seedy situations, making you more reluctant on meeting them.

Although your parents tried to soothe your worries by saying that you will be safe with your soulmate even though whomever they are is obviously an dangerous person, you can still tell that they were scared for your future.

You tried hiding your meter from your peers but they all end up finding out the truth. If it wasn't the looks of pity, it was the quiet whispers everywhere you walked. It was a sad reality for you to be shunned for what fate or whatever Deity that chose this for you.

"Damnit Henry, you didn't fill the tank up!?"

Mark yelled at his friend as the empty gas light comes on. Amy and Maxine groaned with irritations as you looked up, seeing a sign for a service station a mile away. You spoke up over the arguing young men.

"Guys, there's a service station a mile away if we take this turn. If you two stop arguing like an old married couple, we might be able to make it before we're all fucked."

The men quickly shut up, somewhat intimidated by the simple fact that you were fated to be with a highly dangerous person. The women giggled at the last part, looking away from their magazines.

"How are you able to intimate those two so easily? They stopped fighting right when you spoke."

Maxine asked, looking at you with her doe like soft eyes. You gave an anxious smile as you hear Amy laughed at the other woman's innocence to your situation.

"Well Maxine, there's a reason why you've never seen my meter... I don't like showing it...."

You started to speak, your left hand moving over to rub the covered meter on your right hand. Amy interrupted you.

"Their soulmate rating is a ten, worst anyone could get. Their soulmate is is a fucking monster, Maxine. The boys are scared of how potentially dangerous they will be given their soulmate."

Before there was a chance for you or Maxine to speak, the van was parked next to a gas pump in front of the rather old service station. You opted to get out of the van and get some coffee from the station while Mark gets out to fill the van. Henry, Amy, and Maxine decided to follow you inside for a snack run.

You walked towards the coffee pots, filling a cup with the hot liquid. A quiet beep came from your meter as you heard a softer beep from a short distance. The gas station owner, an older woman stared at you with interest as the beeping becomes faster and louder.

Anxiety flows through your veins as you stood still- as if you were a deer in headlights. Heavy footsteps grew closer to you as the beeping for both yours and your soulmstes meters became apparent to your friend group and the the older lady as the door from the back exit of the building open.

Actually meeting your soulmate wasn't a thing that you've ever thought would happen within your life. The hurricane of thoughts made you not notice the audible gasp come from the older lady's lips.

The first thing you noticed was how much larger the man was. Your wide eyes looked up at him as he stared at you. Time froze as you took in every detail of your soulmate; from the way his curly brown hair clings to his large neck, the leather mouth piece that covers his mouth, all the way to how he has a farmers tan on his face and arms.

The logical side of you was screaming to run away as fast as you could because of how dangerous your meter says he is. Yet, you felt a sense of safety and acceptance coming from the much larger man. A older feminine voice brought the both of you back to reality.

"It appears that you're my son, Tommy's soulmate.."

A look of approval was shown on her face as she gave you a motherly hug. You accepted the hug from her as Tommy watches you.

"I'm Luda Mae, but please call me mama."

She continued as you heard tires screeched outside. Looking towards the windows, you saw your friend's van speed away from the gas station. Your eyes widened in shock as they left you alone with only your wallet. Luda quickly goes to the wall phone, calling what seemed to be the sheriff. You didn't pay attention to what was said as the two of you embraced each other, knowing that you have each other now.

[artificial-transmutations]

Minimum Wage

"And finally, it is worth to consider that the majority of those low-end jobs are being held by foreigners. Foreigners who took those jobs from our own people! Foreigners our country does more than enough for already. Any raise in minimum wage will just be spent on alcohol and cigarettes and condoms for their gay sex! Ladies and gentlemen, raising the minimum wage should be out of the question! We should think about lowering it instead!" Thomas finished his speech before the parliament and was content. Great speech, he thought. There was applause from one side of the room and angry shouting from the other side, just as usual.

One of those pesky left-wing women was especially outraged. Her head was as red as her unkempt hair, and he could hear her agitated shouts even without her using a microphone. Something about having no idea about the reality of those minimum wage workers and that he should try experiencing such a life for himself. His microphone was still on, so he added: "And my suggestion to Miss Motley is to find a broomstick to fly away on instead of shouting nonsense." Laughter from his fraction, angry faces from the other side of the room. Great job, Thomas concluded and left the lectern.

That woman was being ridiculous. Even comparing himself to such a low-life was out of the question. He would never lower himself to something like that. That's why he had been working hard all these years, studying politics and economics in order to get into the government. It did help a bit that his family was wealthy, but that was clearly because they have lived in this country forever and weren't some immigrant scum or sexual deviants. Thomas thought for a moment while adjusting his expensive suit and looked at his smartphone. He didn't care too much for the rest of the parliamentary day. There would be some speeches from opposing fractions and then there would be a vote where the majority would vote in favor of the raised minimum wage. Fools. Thomas shook his head and decided to go home early today.

He gathered his things and phoned his driver on the way out. Thomas scowled when he heard the man say that his car was still in maintenance since he didn't expect to be needed before the end of the session. It was really hard to find good staff these days. It was too far to walk, so he would have to take a cab. While he was walking to the cab stand, he messaged his secretary to fire his driver and find him a new one.

"What do you mean 'on a strike?'" He asked, incredulously. There had been no cabs at the stand and when he phoned the company, they just told him the cab drivers were on a strike today for higher wages. Angrily, he hung up. Just great! He would have to take the bus now. The bus. A public transport system for the poor. He hated them with every fiber of his being. They stank like hell, they were full of criminals and immigrants who couldn't even speak the language properly, and worst of all, they were overcrowded.

Fuming, he made his way to the bus stop and entered the vehicle. It was full, but he managed to secure him one of the last seats. It would take quite a while going by bus, so the first minutes, Thomas was busy swiping on his phone. It was really full and warm in here, with the smell of sweat and unwashed people assaulting his nose. He felt really uncomfortable and shifted around in his seat. He wanted to get back to using his phone, when he noticed that there was dirt under his fingernails. No wonder in this dirty environment. When he tried to clean it, he noticed that the nails on his other hand didn't look better. In fact, his whole hand looked dirty and rough, like he had tried to dig a hole in the garden. He frowned and inspected it closer. The skin seemed different and not only that, it was darker. He looked down at his designer shoes and saw that they were covered in mud.

"What the..." He muttered to himself. This wasn't possible. He was wearing his best clothes, which cost more than most people earned in a year. He looked down at his hands again and realized that his rings were gone as well. What the hell? Where are my rings? He took off his jacket and checked inside the pockets but found nothing. His cellphone was missing too.

Thomas began to panic. Had someone stolen his stuff? That was impossible. He just used his phone seconds ago! And that wasn't his jacket either, even though he just took it off. This was a high-vis vest made out of cheap reflective fabric, not the expensive jacket he was sure to have put on this morning.

"What the fuck is happening?" He said aloud, but nobody answered. All he got was an annoyed glance from a woman behind him. She gave him a dirty look and turned her attention back to her phone, ignoring him completely. Thomas looked at his hands again. There was something wrong with them. It was like looking at a strangers hands. The back of his hands looked dirty and hairy, with more dirt under his nails. The skin was darker than he used to. If he just saw these hands, he would think they belonged to someone used to working outside.

He checked his feet again, like this was all a bad dream. Still covered in mud. But these were not his shoes, either. He was wearing sturdy work boots all of a sudden. With steel toe caps. The leather was torn in places, too. He could feel that the soles were worn thin, and the heels weren't exactly comfortable to wear for long periods of time. Just as he was watching, his expensive dress pants changed next. Over the course of a few seconds, they shifted to a pair of worn work pants. His shirt and tie followed suit, but instead of changing into something else, they just disappeared into thin air, leaving him shirtless. A large leather toolbelt formed around his waist. Thomas couldn't believe his eyes. He was dressed like a filthy construction worker! He felt angry and helpless. He should call the police or something, but what would he tell them? That somehow his clothes just magically turned into some cheap worker attire?

Something else caught his eye. His work pants were pretty lose. If he were to stand up now, they would probably slide down his legs. However, as Thomas began to tighten his toolbelt, he watched in awe as his midsection began to expand. It was not that he was growing a gut; on the contrary, his belly even started to shrink. No, his hips started to widen with a broader build and fill in with muscles. At the same time, some coarse dark hairs started to appear on his abs. Not many, just a few. The changes quickly spread upwards, with his chest filling up with strong pectoral muscles. At the same time, he felt his upper legs touch his pants legs more tightly, as they filled with muscles, too.

Thomas's mind was reeling. He knew that there must be a logical explanation for this situation. It couldn't just happen by itself like this! So why did it happened? He thought about it hard and fast but came up empty. Generally speaking, thinking became more and more difficult for Thomas. It felt as if years of precious education that his parents paid for just evaporated from his mind.

As Thomas continued to stare at his body, he realized that the changes were far from over. His arms grew larger and stronger, and his shoulders broadened with each passing second. At the same time, his lower legs and feet thickened, filling out the pants and boots now much better than before. Even his face changed, becoming more masculine and rugged. His cheekbones stood out more clearly and his nose widened. His mind was getting more and more foggy during all of this, and as the changes reached his cock, his intellect was reduced to a way more simple, practical version of himself.

He had lost most knowledge of his once native language, but another language grew in to replace that. With some horror, Thomas realized he wasn't just becoming a dumb construction worker, but also an immigrant! He tried to hold on to his ethnic background, but it was like trying to catch sand. Before long, Tomasz knew he had lost the battle.

It might not be for the worst, he mused. After all, his genetics gifted him with some boons, like the enormous cock whose bulge was now prominently visible between his wide spread legs. He would have liked to man-spread even wider, but sadly, the confines of the bus didn't allow for that. Perhaps, if he worked hard, someday he would earn enough money to be able to afford a car.

Well, speaking of work, his stop came up next. He would have to walk have a mile after that to get to his current construction site, but that's life. Tomasz smirked, as his dick grew hard thinking about his colleagues. Perhaps a few of the other men would be up to releasing some steam in the break, after a smoke and a beer perhaps. It slowly became a regular thing between them to pound each other’s asses, and he loved it more every day. If only he had enough money for condoms.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey Raven, i wanted to ask: Do you think if Silver was born as a girl that Lilia would have raised him differently? Basically, i wonder how Lilia would raise a girl.

What do you think..?

I really don't think Lilia would have raised a daughter any differently than a son. Starting out as a parent, Lilia had a hard time grasping the needs of a human child and how they differ from that of a fae child. For example, he wouldn't worry when infant Silver slipped out of his cradle (expecting Silver to come back on his own) and presently still tends to babies by feeding them milk not in a nippled bottle but from a regular cup. His primary concern, then, would mainly be on learning these nuances between human and fae rather than being concerned with male or female (the former being a far greater distinction than the latter).

Lilia and Silver's lifestyle would be the same, regardless of what Silver's sex is. He (or she) would still be in a position where they have to deal with a father that is messy and cannot cook well, which puts Silver in a situation where they have to grow up quickly to take care of Lilia and himself (when Lilia is away on his travels). This would probably result in a very similar personality forming for fem!Silver--someone who is diligent, reserved, and devoted to Lilia. I'm certain that Lilia would also still train Silver as a knight. I don't see him as the type of person who would perceive women as weak or helpless, nor do I see him discouraging a woman from being able to fight. After all, he knows and is close with two extremely powerful women (Meleanor and Maleficia) who could easily strike HIM down if they wanted to. Lilia laughs at the suggestion that his princess is a damsel in distress and is quick to correct others by informing them that maybe their princesses are like that, but his is not. Sure, that comes down to the Draconia blood making Meleanor powerful beyond the average mage--but what reason would Lilia have to deny Silver the same opportunity to gain the strength to protect others, just as Meleanor and Maleficia have for their own family and people? The fear of potentially losing Silver? But isn't it more dangerous to not let Silver have a fighting chance at all? That’s what I think, at least.

Finally, when it comes to things like "looking feminine" or "looking masculine", Lilia himself has always toed that line. In fact, he usually has the most feminine or flamboyant looks of Diasomnia. The most immediate example I can think of is his dorm uniform in which he proudly wears an oversized coat to give the appearance of being small and cute, and having tons of ruffles and a skirt-like flare to his pants. Lilia also often confidently brags about how "cute" he is and takes great pride in that cuteness. I'd imagine that he encourages Silver to dress how he likes, sex or gender be damned, so long as Silver feels his best. And Silver, being Silver, would probably just dress as usual Silver does, in something serious and practical rather than something "stylish".

I feel like the only thing that would really change is Silver not being able to attend NRC. (Well... unless it's a situation where fem!Silver attends anyway but is passing as a guy because of how androgenous she is.)

[player-1]

Apart from vibrating anxiously for the finale to Canto 7, I figured I could do a lightning round to all the new lore bits that were revealed so far. Of course there's a lot to take in, especially with a good bit of book comparisons too, so that's fun (not that I watched the musical yet, but go figure) :) (Obvious spoilers for Canto 7.1-7.2 and possible prediction for part 3)

-Surprised that no one mentioned that PCorp/District 24 is very likely to be the headquarters for the Dieci Association, especially with their archival department being the largest and most refined in the City so far. PCorp's Singularity isn't explicitly explained yet (for obvious City taboo reasons), but they can make a building material that can bend to insane degrees but never breaks (even with LaMancha Land literally appearing in one of the more populated residential districts and bending skyscrapers from the force, the only bodycount was from people wandering into the park to get turned into Bloodbags). And apparently in all the screw-ups the Sinners have been in, they're strong enough to fight a Urban Nightmare now (second strongest threat to Star of the City and the LoR fans cheering in the background for Vergil mentioning it outright).

-Cesaros (head manager of the archival dept.) mentions that Limbus Company is considered a "medium-sized enterprise" from her research (maybe something close to a Association or a Office with members in the double-digits), but they are extremely tight-lipped on what their company even does or why they need the Golden Boughs in the first place...Which Dante gets 100% since he's already kept in the dark of the place he's working in.

-And speaking of LaMancha Land, anyone getting 8 o' Clock Circus vibes anyone? :) Also it's been around for 200 years so that was a good timeframe for how long they've been active before popping up in PCorp about 4-5 months ago. LaMancha did have a noble goal at first, letting Bloodfiends and humans create a symbiotic relationship with the vamps entertaining their guests (+ free therapy sessions) and the humans donating blood to satiate their hunger without going crazy. The Bloodfiends also get a supplement bar (hemobar/hemoglobin bar) on the down low, but both counterparts have very little blood and eventually drove the vamps mad from withdrawal.

+Book-wise, I actually like how the main Bloodfiend bunch fits their namesake with that wonderful PMoon twist; Bari/Knight of the White Moon being a mix between Sancho and/or Cardenio IMO, Sanson could fit the role of the fake magician Munaton/Friston/Friton who had the power to "take" rooms from a foundation and create illusions (obviously a lie to keep Don Quixote from freaking out about his book collection being destroyed and boarded up the room). -The Barber and Priest work a bit like side characters since their main jobs in the book was trick Don Quixote to coming back to his village and "cure" his delusions by disguising themselves as a damsel princess and a squire (the priest did want to do the princess role at first before letting the barber do it since it conflicted with his Christian morals (ie. he blanked on that fact multiple paragraphs ago before chickening out). So if you read that little bit in the book, then that's the reason why the Barber's a girl, so you're welcome! :) -Limbus Dulcinea also follows the role of "The Princess of the Parade" with Sancho as her Prince; then Sancho "abandoned" the park for some unknown reason (in her eyes) and the princely role was replaced by Cassetti...And then he ran away too with drastically disastrous results in the Warp Train side story. Book Dulcinea is described (by Don) as a fair maiden with pale gold hair and equally pale and fair skin, while the real Dulcinea (Aldonso Lorenzo) is a haughty and rude farm-women at the village who Don has only seen four times out of 12 years they have crossed paths; so having a interesting blend of both personality traits is a neat little easter egg if they can connect the two. +And last but not least, the main chivalric trio; Don Quixote/Alonso Quixano, Rocinante, and Sancho :D.

-While it is fair that Alonso isn't fully revealed until 7.3 (which I'm all for the real name drop for tall, blond and dumbass), Alonso is a Bloodfiend that's obsessed with certain hobbies to an extreme before dropping them completely in less than a week (like getting a bunch of expensive yarn for knitting until getting bored in three days). But he does follow his aspirations when he thinks there's a long-term reward for it; like being a Fixer to do good and spread his name and creating LaMancha Land for both human and Bloodfiends to work together in harmony (but not before forcing the vamps to believe that the only way to be happy is give happiness to others since he grew tired of living in comfort without any conflict or adversity...as if that isn't going to backfire one way or another :).

-And again, Rocinante wouldn't be fleshed out until 7.3, but we do know a good amount...They are either a horse, a pair of running shoes, or some poor schmuck that's forced to deal with a delusional vampire knight and their badass could-be-a-Color Fixer on their wild adventures. Like helping a village fight off a group of bandits with the few lines paraphrased from the book about facing any foe, no matter the size or strength, that had zero consequences whatsoever (*sweats nervously in Ch. 18*); then getting the helmet of the knight Mambrino from ch. 20-21 by...fighting a bear. The River of Oblivion is more of an Odyssey reference, but I think it could also connect to Don Quixote's "penance" in ch. 25-26 at a small oasis in the Sierra Morena; since the only time Don was able to speak the truth about Dulcinea is after dismounting Rocinante and removing his armor, stripping away everything that makes him a knight in appearance alone.

-And finally, with all the teasing in 7.1 to now (even the Yearning-Mircalla ego too), the biggest twist of the Canto is that our goofy vampire Limbus Don is actually Sancho, a "squire" playing the role of a valiant Fixer despite the odds of absolutely everything the City has to offer (and certainly against her will). From what little info we can get from her conversations with the real Don, she's pretty standoffish and crass to the one person that gave her a second chance in life besides dying alone and without a family, though she does like the Zwei Association from Bari’s stories despite claiming they’re boring and strange. And am I the only one who noticed so far that Don took inspiration from the Zwei for her armor and have Bari's hairstyle as a strong and confident Fixer? Other than that, there's still a lot of baggage she has to deal with now that Sancho's out of her endless dream and finally has her autonomy back for real this time. For better or worse, I'm all for Sancho being the new Sinner #3 so she can learn that the team is her new family that she can appreciate without sacrificing her own happiness.

Already crossing my fingers that they'll add another obscure reference from the book later on, but that's all on the 24th :)

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Hello! First I want to say I really like your fae story! The world building in it is insane and I'm so glad Buddie is finally together. Second, you don't have to answer but why have you been posting stuff with tommy? I don't understand why any Buddie shipper would like him, he's such a pos in the begins episodes...why write him with Buck? You don't have to answer, but there are lots of Buddie shippers switching sides and I don't see why.

Hiiiii.

So, first off thank you! I'm so glad you're enjoying Come Away, and I hope the ending coming up satisfies :) Second, ngl, I did consider not answering that question cause I really don't like wading into fandom drama...but that was a super respectful ask and I DO quite like the character so...fuck it, we ball.

This is probably gonna be long and rambly but the TL;DR is I think the fact that Tommy Kinard IS introduced as a piece of shit makes for really interesting nuance to the character and also I'm a multishipper...just cause bacon and pineapple is my favorite pizza flavor doesn't mean I DON'T like pepperoni or have decided never to eat it again (also, I have less than 10k words of BuckTommy on AO3 and, like, almost 300k of Buddie, so I don't think I've switched sides, lol)

As for why I can like Tommy and specifically Tommy and Buck together despite the aforementioned POS'ness, sure I'll cop to part of it being I am just so damn excited for bi!Buck, I'd have been happy with just about anyone awakening that in him. But also because Tommy, to me, is a fucking interesting character and DOES make a lot of sense as someone that Hen and Chim could forgive and be friends with, and that could be good for Buck.

First off there are some things I think we have to acknowledge about Tommy that are factual or can be inferred as factual from the show. 1. For his timeline to make ANY sense, he can generously be in his late thirties to early forties. For it to make sense without him being some kind of prodigy in a couple areas, he has to be in his mid-to-late forties. 2. He was at LEAST partially raised by someone who reminds him uncomfortably of Gerrard, a CARTOONISHLY boorish, evil, bigot. 3. He was closeted for a very long time.

All of those factors together make for someone who honestly, it would have been nearly IMPOSSIBLE for them NOT to be a piece of shit, and a textbook example of how patriarchal systems, toxic masculinity, and white supremacy are also harmful to the people who benefit from them.

Let me preface this by saying I don't think the harm Tommy suffered was anywhere near as great as what Hen and Chim (or any person of color) go through. And, of course, Hen and Chim don't owe him shit. Forgiving him or not is entirely up to them and the right choice whatever they choose.

My point is, Tommy almost certainly grew up in an environment where his worst flaws and character traits were just...normal. I think a lot of people don't understand how much LARGER the world has gotten with the modern day internet, how much easier it is to be exposed to things outside your own bubble. I'm either right around Tommy's age or a little younger, depending on the estimate you use and guys...I just don't have words for how INSULAR my worldview was growing up compared to now. How much everyone around you, even in larger cities, tended to be Just Like You. You had to live in true sprawling metropolises to be exposed to the kind of diversity that we take for granted now. It is a terrible thing, but when everyone around you, everyone you look up to, everyone you love and care about, and who is supposed to love and care about you thinks the same thing, you don't tend to question it. You don't even notice it. My own loving, wonderful, give-you-the-shirt-off-her-back grandmother, who was educated af in a time women really weren't as a rule, and spent her life as a teacher was racist as FUCK. And the really insidious kind...the "I don't hate them, but why can't they just stay on their side of town?" kind, the passive-aggressive comments that only sting the people they're aimed at so no one thinks to defend the victim kind. It's the weirdest cognitive dissonance to know someone as kind, loving, and moral and ALSO realize that the kindness, love, and morality only included certain people. If my parents had not moved around so much, exposing me to different environments (or if they'd been a little less lenient with my internet access when it started exploding) I honestly can't say whether or not I would have ended up just like my grandma. I like to think I wouldn't have, but that's the point...it's a frog in slowly boiling water situation. I think we can all safely say a parent like Gerrard was not creating an environment in which it was safe or even possible to question the hate.

And from that homelife Tommy had to have gone straight into the military during the heights of DADT, wherein hiding your true self from everyone around you was the acceptable compromise to just straight up having your life ruined (if not completely ended).

Now. Does any of this EXCUSE Tommy being a pretty racist, sexist piece of shit in the begins episodes? No. But it is an EXPLANATION and a true-to-life example of how those systems that everyone has to operate in are harmful no matter what. At the time, given what was almost certainly his background, Tommy would almost certainly have to have been INCREDIBLY self-aware and self-actualized (and honestly, really, REALLY fucking brave) not to have been molded into...precisely what he is. A pretty racist, pretty sexist piece of shit who is throwing anyone and everyone he has to under the bus (consciously or not) to divert attention from his own deviation from the "norm".

Okay, HocusPocus, you might say, so this still begs the question why the hell you think Tommy deserves to even breathe the same air as your favorite blorbo.

And let me again preface by saying I acknowledge the show leaves a lot to inference here. As 911 is wont to do, extremely important character moments are handled "off-screen."

That being said, we do get to see Tommy acknowledging he was wrong about Hen and Chim and getting to a place of mutual respect, if not friendship (personally, I think the going away party when Tommy leaves the 118 shows they've made it to friendship...I don't care how much you respect someone, cake, balloons, and a surprise party are strictly friend things). When Chim calls Tommy to take them out to the cruise ship like...Tommy's risking his life AND his career there, if not outright jail time. Just on Chim and Hen's say-so. Again...that's FRIEND level actions, not just "I respect you as a colleague". We see, either right there on screen or through deleted scenes, that everyone around Buck trusts Tommy with him. When have we ever seen the 118 be shy about expressing their displeasure over one of Buck's LI's? If Hen and Chim still harbored resentment towards Tommy, and didn't truly believe he'd changed and was good enough for Buck, do we REALLY think that wouldn't have been expressed?

Are there valid criticisms of the character? Sure. I think a lot of it can be explained by the rushed nature of season 7 with such a large ensemble cast, but yeah, Tommy's not super developed and a LOT of the issues between him, Hen , and Chim are left to inference. That's fair.

But I think the show MEANS us to make those inferences, that Hen and Chim's actions and interactions with him show that Tommy has done the work to change, and they accept that he's changed and it also says a lot about them that they can forgive him and be friends with him (which, again, he is NOT owed and they would have been perfectly valid in denying him).

So, yeah. I like him. I think he's interesting and while Buddie remains my OTP, I am very interested to see where Tevan goes this coming season.

Also, Lou is fucking pretty ;)

[geekgirles]

The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 3 That Distant Shore

Word Count: 15,977

Read on AO3

Previous/Next

Summary: "The day has finally come where Amalia will get to leave the palace premises and explore around Oma Island alongside Yugo. However, much to their mutual surprise, it won't take long before it becomes apparent the island's landscapes won't be the only thing they'll explore today. Soon they'll learn more about themselves and each other, at the same time as they wonder if they truly know each other at all."

“So, you’re getting ready for your date?” Nora asked him from where she lay upside down on his bed, her feet dangling in the air as she munched on some snacks she snatched from the kitchen. 

How she didn’t choke on those from her position was beyond him. 

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s not a date!” Yugo snapped, rolling his eyes in annoyance at his sister’s insistence. He was looking at her from over his chair, his body facing the desk he kept in his room for last minute documents he had to look over. 

That was the downside of always being out and about, the stacks of paperwork that would inevitably pile up. 

Seriously, between the bureaucratic work and his sister’s antics at his expense, he really doubted he would live to a thousand years, at least in this lifetime. 

It was Nora’s turn to roll her eyes, an action which she made sure to emphasise. Leave it to Yugo to be in denial. Propping herself on his bed so she was sitting upright right after gobbling up her last snack, she flashed him a bored look. 

“Right, right. I always forget. It’s not a date.”

“Thank you.” Yugo puffed out his chest, glad his younger sister was finally seeing reason. 

“You’re just going to be adventuring around the island—one of your favourite things in the whole wide Krosmoz—alongside Amalia, whom I seem to recall you actually asked if she was okay with it, and sweating a Rogue’s whole bullet supply while you were at it; just the two of you. Yeah, it sure doesn’t sound like a date to me.”

Yugo pouted. He should’ve known it was a trap. 

“Well, it’s not!” He protested, even as he tried to busy himself with work to drown Nora’s sarcastic comments out. “Come on, Nora, I thought you were better than that.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She definitely was not above teasing her older brother about his painfully obvious crush on the pretty flower that got sent to him. His being in denial only made it all the more entertaining. So she had no idea what he meant about ‘being better than that.’

“Don’t play coy.” He told her sternly, swirling his body once again to point at her with an accusing finger and a serious expression on his face. “Aren’t you supposed to be above all these ‘archaic notions meant to hinder positive interactions between members of the opposite sex such as the impossibility of men and women fostering fully platonic relationships’?”

Nora could only blink in disbelief. Once. Twice. Up to three times. Finally, she offered a slow, sarcastic clap, her tone flat. “Wow, I’m impressed. Where did you get all that from, Yugo, by memorising Simone de Bouftou’s works?”

Yugo just rolled his eyes, turning his focus back to signing documents and away from his annoying sister. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about all that?”

“No way!” She replied, waving the mere notion off with a psh! sound. “Of course men and women can be just friends. I mean, look at me, I’m only friends with most guys I know!” Then, she muttered to herself, “And I say most because the remaining guys are my brothers and that would be gross.”

Yugo wisely chose not to comment on how she wasn’t exactly interested in pursuing a relationship with any man in the first place. 

Ignoring his train of thought, she went on, undeterred. “Doesn’t change the fact that you and Amalia are going out on a date, though.”

Exhaling deeply from his nose, Yugo all but threw his pen down at the desk, causing a little thud! to echo around the room before it began to roll around the wooden surface it was in. He’d better be realistic and accept he would not get any work done, not with Nora this intent on getting on his nerves today. 

After solving Amalia’s little problem with her room—though, truth be told, she solved it entirely by herself—, the Divine Doll had timidly asked him if they could explore Oma Island some time soon, confiding in him her own desire to learn more about the world around her. A desire Yugo himself was intimately familiar with. 

In a moment of weakness, despite his better judgement, Yugo had given in, relating to her feeling of solitude with nothing to do and nowhere to go. And because he was a man of his word, he had been planning on the perfect escapade, writing down all the incredible places that could be found on the island his people now called home and deciding which ones they should start with. 

It wasn’t like he was excited, or anything of the sort. But, for whatever reason, the gods had entrusted him with a Sadida Doll, and this would apparently be Amalia’s first time seeing the outside world since her creation. The least he could do was make it worthwhile. 

And yes, maybe he had been a little nervous when he asked her if she wanted to go, and maybe the fact that he asked her at all would raise a few eyebrows among the most old-fashioned people, who would immediately label it as a date. But it wasn’t a date! There was no romantic intent behind it, he had only been trying to come up with the perfect plan because this would be Amalia’s first outing and he wanted her to enjoy herself, and he had only asked because…

Well, because asking a person if they wanted to do something rather than just assume and force them to do anything was just common decency!

As Shinonomé said, Amalia was their guest, not their prisoner. Even if they would be keeping an eye on her until the reason for her arrival became clear, they would still treat her with the respect a Sadida Doll deserved. 

And if asking her to join him on a little walk around the island counted as an adventure for her and made her smile like she had won a bet against Ecaflip, then he would gladly plan as many adventures and little escapades as she—

He was getting sidetracked! Shaking his head and with it those thoughts away, he couldn’t help but huff as he bit his lip, irritated both at Nora and at himself. But mostly at Nora. Sometimes he was sure her divine gift wasn’t bringing joy to their people, but to get on his nerves. 

“For the last time, it’s not a date! We’re just friends!” He threw his hands to his sides, desperate for his sister to finally listen to what he had to say. 

“What’s not a date?”

Their heads perking up at the sound of the new voice, both Yugo and Nora turned to face the newcomer with equally curious faces. Standing awkwardly in the doorway under their scrutiny was Adamaï, the round opening closing behind him. His brown irises flickered back and forth between his siblings and he had a stack of papers in his claws. 

Clearing his throat to dispel the sudden tension he found himself in, he thumped the bundle of paper on the table to organise them a little before handing them to Yugo. “Here, these are Qilby and Shinonomé’s reports on the new medicine they’re developing from some of Qilby’s plants. They want you to look through it and see if you can give them the go-ahead.”

The dragon’s discomfort only grew when a smile kept stretching over his twin’s face slowly. It was a little unnerving, to say the least. So, curling his tail around himself in unease, he braced himself for the worst. 

“What?” He asked flatly. 

“Adamaï, just in time!” Yugo jumped to his feet and hugged his brother tightly, patting him on the back. Not knowing how to react, all poor Adamaï could do was to awkwardly return the gesture. 

It wasn’t like he was adverse to receiving physical affection from Yugo, the two were undoubtedly close, after all; it was just that he had no idea what could have possibly prompted such a reaction from him. 

Already knowing he would come to regret ever opening his mouth, the dragon asked, “‘Just in time’ for what?”

Yugo broke the hug and gestured towards Nora, who had one eyebrow quirked and her face rested against her knuckles. “Ad, could you please tell Nora I’m not going on a date with Amalia?”

Oh, that actually explained so much. With a shrug, he turned to the magenta-clad Eliatrope, “He’s not going on a date with Amalia.”

The king threw his hands up in the air and his head back in triumph, blessing his lucky stars for having at least one decent sibling. “Thank you! See? There you have it, I’m not going on a date with Amalia!”

But Nora just hummed in response, her expression impassive. With the same stone-faced look, she turned to Adamaï, “And do you actually believe that?”

His answer was swift and devastating. “Not even for a second.”

“Adamaï!” Yugo screeched, bringing a hand to his chest in abject horror, the feeling of betrayal oozing from his pores. “Whose side are you on!?”

Ad just raised his claws up in surrender, though the smirk on his face made it plenty clear he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. “Hey, you told me to tell her you don’t have a date with Amalia; you never said anything about saying that and meaning it.”

The Eliatrope King opened up his mouth to protest, and promptly shut it. His face contorted itself into a grimace as he tried to refute his twin’s logic, but had to resign himself to accepting he had been had. 

Instead, all he could say was, “I hate you.”

The dragon smirked, “Love you too, bro.”

Their attention was drawn back to the only girl in the room when Nora made a show of clasping her hands loudly. She was still on Yugo’s bed, which creaked under her weight, seated in a lotus position as she crossed her arms and sent her king an infinitely smug look. 

“There you have it, you’re going out on a date with Amalia. End of the story.”

She had to refrain herself from rolling her eyes to the back of her skull when Yugo insisted on contradicting her, wagging a finger in the air for added effect. 

“No, no, no.” He shook his head very slowly and deliberately, slowly closing the distance between them as he spoke. “By your own definition, a date is two people, in this case, a man and a woman, doing something they enjoy together.”

“That is correct, yes.” Nora decided to humour him, nodding along. 

“Given you won’t believe me even when I tell you there’s no romantic intent on my part—”

He could feel himself bristle at the infuriating look his two siblings exchanged right under his nose. But that didn’t matter; he went on. 

“—then I feel obligated to point out we’re not going alone!” 

That got her attention, her brow furrowed in confusion. “You’re not?”

“Nope.” Yugo shot back, popping the ‘p’ and thoroughly enjoying the white-haired Eliatrope’s perplexed look. “Adamaï here will be coming with us.”

Suddenly seeing his twin openly gesturing at him caused the dragon in question to start, before jogging up his memory and realising he had indeed agreed to such a thing. “Ah, that’s right. To help you keep an eye on Amalia and make sure nothing happens to her.” Then, he added, tilting his thought in confusion, “But didn’t you say she redecorated her entire room in less than five minutes thanks to her power over nature? Oma Island is overflowing with vegetation, if anything, she’s the one with the advantage here.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, just in case.” Yugo replied absently, his eyes strained on Nora’s smirking face. That… was not the kind of reaction he was expecting from her after such revelation. It was making his stomach churn, honestly.

For her part, Nora was supremely amused by this. Yugo might be their people’s greatest warrior and a good king, but he could be so utterly hopeless sometimes, especially when it came to romance. No wonder he had never once taken a queen in all his reincarnations, according to Qilby and Shinonomé. She had to suppress an impish giggle. That was what made teasing him on these matters so much fun. 

“I see.” She finally said, her smirk unwavering. “You’re right. You definitely do not have a date with Amalia.”

Exchanging cautious glances with Ad, Yugo dared to say, “Right? T-thank you for finally noticing—.”

“You have a date with Amalia, and a chaperone.” She finished, finally allowing the full scope of her amusement to show on her features. 

Yugo’s whole posture slumped, a vexed pout on his lips. He could only blame himself, he really should have seen that one coming. 

Letting out a heavy sigh as he straightened himself up slightly,  he pinched the bridge of his nose in vexation. “For the last time, Amalia and I are just friends!” He groaned, throwing his arms to the side. “Why do you all insist I have feelings for her? You and Chibi tease me to no end, Efrim accuses me of letting her cloud my judgement, Qilby… I have no idea what he does or what he thinks, as always…”

Nora pretended to think for a second, she was about to open up her mouth when—.

“Um, maybe because you make it so painfully obvious?”

Everyone turned to the origin of the voice, coming face-to-face with a very smug-looking Qilby leaning against the doorframe. Yugo really couldn’t tell if he didn’t notice because he was so engrossed in the conversation or because their doors were too quiet. Which was ridiculous, to be honest. It wasn’t just a large rock shuttle in the middle of the room, it even lit up with wakfu every so often!

Seriously, their children didn’t even need nightlights to ward off monsters in the dark. The doors were more than enough!

“Okay, never mind.” Yugo said, his tone flat. “I know exactly what Qilby does…”

“You would if you actually used your time as a king should and read through our reports.” Qilby pointed out matter-of-factly as he strutted into the room, unperturbed by the sour look on his brother’s face. 

“For once I agree with you, dear brother.” Nora said sweetly, too sweetly. The way she leaned forward with her head resting over her intertwined fingers was a clear sign of how much she was enjoying watching her king squirm.

“I would've been done with these documents about an hour ago if you didn’t keep on distracting me.” Yugo protested weakly. 

His siblings were not having it, however. 

“No, you would have not.” They all deadpanned in unison.

Joining his little sister on the bed, which creaked under the added weight, Qilby stretched, passing his arms behind his back with a loud pop! Mirroring Nora’s devious smirk, he asked, “Why are we talking about Yugo’s obvious crush on his precious flower now?”

Purposely ignoring his twin’s frantic gesturing not to say a word, Adamaï took the liberty of explaining things. “Because they’re going adventuring today.”

“Seriously, Ad. Whose side are you on?!” Yugo scoffed as he threw his hands to his sides, incredulous. “And you deliberately left out the fact that you’re coming with us.”

To his chagrin, his dragon twin simply shrugged. “It’s not like my presence is going to change much.”

“Ah, I see. So this is a date with a chaperone.” Qilby interjected, stroking his braided beard with interest. 

“That’s what I said!” Nora exclaimed, before breaking down into uncontrollable laughter.

With a pensive hum, the eldest Eliatrope continued. “You know, this reminds me of our 168th reincarnation. You used to ask Adamaï or Chibi to chaperone for you on your dates with Dydda. Although, that had more to do with the fact that her father was very overprotective, rather than you being in denial.”

“What do I have to do to get it through your skulls that there’s nothing going on between Amalia and I? And I’m not in denial.” Yugo sighed, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration. He thought best not to point out how, unlike whoever this Dydda girl’s father was, he most likely had nothing on a literal god.

Or maybe he should point it out. It was incredible how easily they all forgot the real reason behind Amalia’s presence in their lives. 

“Oh, denying your denial. That’s a bad sign.” Qilby whispered conspiratorially to Nora, who nodded wisely. He purposely made his voice louder than it should be as he did so, loving every single second of seeing his younger brother twitch uncomfortably in his place. The smirk returning to his face as he basked in the glory of his youngest brother’s less than amused expression, he smugly added. “If you’re not interested in our dear doll, why is it that you’ve been choosing to blow off training with our siblings to practise all by your lonesome right in front of her room, hm?”

Nora’s bright pink eyes lit up in realisation before setting on him like feral, starving Bow Wow staring at a bone. “That’s right! Ever since Amalia arrived, you barely let yourself be seen around the training grounds! Only when we need to tutor our elite guards in training.”

Eyes widening at the accusation, Yugo was convinced his heart just stopped. Choking on air, he had to discreetly thump his closed hand over his chest to get it to start pumping blood again. 

He cleared his throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “...I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He hated how that sounded painfully unconvincing even to his ears. 

Qilby just rolled his eyes. “Please, Yugo. Need I remind you I remember everything that’s ever happened since the moment we were born, millennia ago? Whenever you like someone, you can’t help but show off in front of them. And since right now training is your best option to flex that divine physique of yours… Well, you do the maths.”

The Eliatrope King could feel his face heating up at the accusation. And worst of all, the eldest Eliatrope wasn’t exactly wrong. It had been a while since he went to the training grounds with his siblings. Doing his own routine at the back of the palace, where Amalia’s balcony was located, had sort of become a routine for the both of them by now. 

If he was being honest, that development hadn’t been intentional on his part. In fact, it all started because his siblings blew him off first. They had been planning on practising some group formations in case the Twelvians sent more warriors after them, only to then be forced to spend a good half hour waiting for them. It wasn’t until Shinonomé soared right above him and noticed him all by his lonesome that he was informed their siblings all had urgent matters to attend to and would not be able to train that day. 

From an outsider’s perspective, it would have been ironic that the king, who was supposed to be the busiest person of all, was also the only one who had found time to do some physical exercise. However, Yugo’s position as their people’s greatest warrior also justified he dedicated some time of his day, every day, to honing his skills to remain sharp and battle-ready. 

So with nothing better to do and not feeling like forcing their guards-in-training to clean after one person’s mess, he decided he could use some change in scenery. Only problem was he forgot his usual spot away from everyone else currently housed the Sadida Doll he already went out of his way to keep a strictly platonic relationship with. 

And it worked! It really did. Amalia didn’t try to convince him to take her as his bride or even bring the subject up at all. She was mostly content with letting herself be dragged around the palace and making idle conversation with him. Yugo actually wondered if she would ever drop the anvil on him, seeing how restless she looked from time to time…

Looking back, it was painfully obvious to see the Divine Doll really needed to get out more. 

The point is, he had been successfully keeping her at arm’s length, too wary of the gods’ true intentions behind sending her to them to risk putting his kingdom in jeopardy. But when he caught her staring intently at his display of physical prowess for the first time, her brown, doe-like eyes glimmering in awe and the softest blush dusting her cheeks, he felt something powerful, and a little bit cocky, surge within him. 

What began as mere attack drills became an elaborate choreography that ended up leaving him more winded than when he actually fought the World of Twelve’s champions. But the shortness of his breath, the accelerated heartbeat echoing in his ribcage, or the soreness in his muscles were nothing compared to the rush of adrenaline and pride he felt upon seeing Amalia’s reaction. 

Before he knew it, that one-time thing had become an addictive habit he had trouble even envisioning himself breaking. 

And apparently, his siblings had taken notice of it too. 

There was no way he was going to tell all that to them, of course. Especially not when Qilby and Nora were still laughing uncontrollably at his expense, their laughing fit having started roughly at the same time he froze on the spot at the bespectacled Eliatrope’s accusations. With a tsk! sound and a long-suffering roll of his eyes, he turned his back to them long enough to grab his cloak from his coat stand and put it on, pulling his hood over his head as well. 

With a nod of his head, he motioned for Adamaï to follow him. Purposely ignoring the way his actions finally broke Nora and Qilby out of their little trance, he pointed at the floor, his palm glowing a bright blue, and opened up a portal big enough to fit both him and Adamaï.

“Whe—...Where are…where are you going?” Nora managed to ask in between wheezes, wiping a tear away. 

“To pick Amalia up to show her around. At this rate, rather than take her on an adventure, I’ll take her to bed.” He replied simply, seemingly not realising how that sounded. 

As Qilby’s laughter intensified, a predatory grin made its way to the pink-eyed Eliatrope’s lips. “Hey, if you don't want to, I’ll more than gladly—.”

And just like that Yugo and Adamaï were gone. 

“Rude.” She scoffed. 

.......................................................................................................................

Amalia was practically buzzing with excitement. Today was the day she’d manage to leave the palace premises and explore Oma Island for a bit! Oh, she wasn’t sure this day would ever come. She had replayed the moment Yugo proposed the idea to her in her mind over a million times already.

It had been shortly after she admitted to disliking her room and receiving his and Chibi and Grougal’s help with redecorating the space more to her liking. That morning, not long after the little routine they had going on where Yugo trained in front of her balcony and she got to enjoy the show, he had come knocking on her door. 

Amalia still couldn’t make sense of how uncomfortable he looked when she offered him to come inside, only for him to vehemently, albeit politely, reject her offer and remain rooted to the spot beside the door frame even as the shuttle closed behind him. But she chose to shrug his weird behaviour off—honestly, between Yugo’s mercurial moods, where one second he seemed completely at ease only to tense up at the next; Nora’s strange comments both about them and about her, especially her; Efrim’s glares; and Qilby’s indecipherable expressions, the Divine Doll was really beginning to think what she considered odd behaviour was just culture shock. For all she knew, that was completely normal for Eliatropes!

So dropping the matter for the time being, she focused instead on what he was trying to tell her. Apparently he wanted them to have breakfast together. That in itself was great. Given how their interactions usually went, they would most likely walk around the palace afterwards. Maybe she could try bringing the subject of looking around the island up again?

Amalia dropped her porridge-filled spoon into her bowl the moment Yugo beat her to the punch mid-breakfast and suggested exactly that, her eyes as wide as the saucers carrying sweets, cold meats, fruit, and many other food options on the table. Then she proceeded to almost knock an unprepared Yugo out of his chair when she threw herself at him to hug him as thanks. Only to let him go immediately after because, judging by the way his whole body tensed up at the contact and how the maids and servants were staring at them owlishly, it seemed Eliatrope culture wasn’t big on public displays of affection. 

Which Amalia couldn't help but find ironic since their portal-making abilities usually meant their concept of personal space was a little faulty. 

Nevertheless, once she had released him and he recovered from the shock—Amalia told herself then to be more careful in the future; she was no longer with her family and couldn’t afford to be overly touchy-feely—, Yugo admitted to having been thinking over what she said about leaving the palace and how he reached the conclusion that she was right. Oma Island was her home now, it’d be better if she knew her way around it. 

And so, the rest of their breakfast was spent picking the perfect date and with a pleading Amalia begging a tight-lipped Yugo to tell her more details of their first ever adventure together. But even the doll’s best efforts were futile. He just told her to be ready when the day came and to let him worry about the rest.

And now that the day had finally arrived, she was so beyond herself with joy, no matter what she did, she just couldn’t stay still while she waited for Yugo to arrive to pick her up. 

That wasn’t an exaggeration. She had tried sitting on the floor and caressing the vines and ferns she’d grown the other day. She laid on her bed upside down and with her feet dangling in mid-air as she propped her head with her hands, or with her back to the wall as her eyes followed the lines composing the murals on the walls, trying to make sense of them. She had spent hours in front of her vanity, brushing her hair and trying to look her best. But nothing! 

As she frantically paced around her room like a caged animal, she couldn’t help but think Xelor seemed intent on making time go by more slowly today. 

She shuddered at the memory of her brief interaction with the time god, when her father introduced her to the other gods before sending her to the World of Twelve. Overall, he seemed nice, but she just couldn��t get over having to look him in the chest to look him in the eye…

Watching someone’s pectorals squinting was a scarring experience she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. And when his mouth curled over his stomach? Amalia was the one who didn’t have the stomach for it. 

In a twist of fate, it was as if she had accidentally summoned Xelor himself and got him to do his job. For just as she got lost reminiscing, a knock on the windowpane leading to her balcony broke the Divine Doll out of her thoughts. 

With a gasp, she abruptly stopped pacing. Her eyes trained on the windowpane, she commanded two of the vines on her wall to open it with a gesture of her hands. She could only squeal in equal parts delight and excitement at the sight before her, before rushing out to the balcony without a second thought. 

Hovering over the railing were Yugo and his dragon brother Adamaï, the latter having spread his draconic wings to achieve such a feat. While Adamaï’s posture, with his arms folded over his chest and his batting wings, remained more guarded than Yugo’s, whose body was mostly hidden by his usual blue cloak, the two of them still wore pleasant smiles as they waited for her. 

Her eyes flickering down for a fraction of a second, she couldn’t help but smile appreciatively when she noticed they were hovering on purpose just so they could avoid stepping on her vines. That was so thoughtful of them.

“Yugo, you’re really here!” She exclaimed happily, her brown eyes glimmering in delight as she got closer. 

The Eliatrope chuckled at her reaction. “Well, I did say today I’d take you out.” He turned to his twin. “Isn’t that right, Adamaï?”

“I wasn’t there when you agreed on the specifics, but if that's what you said you would do, then the least you can do is hold up your end of the bargain.” He shrugged, not too concerned. 

The exchange causing her to remember her other guest and flush at her lack of manners, the Sadida Doll rushed out to rectify her mistake. “Oh, Adamaï! I’m so sorry, it’s great to see you too. We really haven’t had the chance to interact more.” She sheepishly cupped her cheek with one hand. “Uh, forgive me but, um… why exactly are you here?”

Despite how obvious it was he would only be third-wheeling on these two’s not-a-date (as Yugo insisted on calling it), Adamaï couldn’t help but chuckle at the doll’s innocent, albeit genuine, question. He had just opened his mouth when he sensed his brother’s voice inside his head, begging him not to embarrass him like the rest of their siblings would. 

As tempted as he was to screw with his twin and tell Amalia Yugo was just so worried about today going well and ensuring her safety, he specifically sought him out and chose this very date—the one day all week Adamaï didn’t have business of his own to tend to, mind you—to take her out, he thought better of it. 

On the one hand, it was true their siblings had been giving their king a lot of grief over the Amalia topic, and even though Yugo liked to act like everything was fine, Ad had been by his side since back in their Dofus days. And he knew Yugo really didn’t like to have his intentions with Amalia questioned or distorted for a cheap laugh, just like he knew Efrim’s obvious hostility and distrust towards her had really rattled him. 

Whenever the members of the Council of Six had tenser interactions than bickering, it was very serious. If they weren’t careful, their people were sure to find out, and putting them further on edge given everything that happened with the Twelvians since they arrived to this world was the last thing they needed. 

All that, combined with Amalia’s expectant, innocent brown gaze, made it impossible for him to have some fun of his own. Perhaps the Divine Doll didn’t know what things like suitors or brides or marriages were, but it was clear to see there was something there when it came to her ease around Yugo. And the blue-and-white dragon couldn’t bring himself to risk toying with her feelings. 

With an almost imperceptible shake of his horned head over how soft he was getting, he finally said, “Yugo thought it’d be best if we both showed you around, since we know Oma Island like the back of our hands. After all, we are our people’s greatest adventurers!” He stated proudly. 

“But that’s amazing!” The Divine Doll gasped. “Is that really true, Yugo?”

“Oh, you’d better believe it!” He nodded, clasping a hand on his twin’s shoulder and sharing a mischievous grin. “There’s nothing Ad and I love more than living adventures and discovering new places. Why, just ask Chibi and Grougal; our old room used to be filled to the brim with countless souvenirs from all the places we visited!”

As the two brothers shared a laugh and began reminiscing on some past adventures, Amalia was grinning like a fool. She couldn’t help but frown in confusion and the mention of their ‘old room’, vague memories of her father and the gods mentioning the Eliatropes were not native to the World of Twelve but not much else echoing in her mind. But she pushed that away for the time being in favour of focusing on the revelation of Yugo and Adamaï being great adventurers. 

How great was that?! Oh, here she was, longing to see the outside world, and Yugo and Adamaï had already seen so much of it! She imagined herself journeying the world, meeting fascinating new people and places, and having the time of her life doing so. For some reason she couldn’t explain, knowing Yugo had already done it all before filled her with a strange but warm feeling, one she couldn’t quite bring herself to dislike. 

The King of the Eliatropes really was amazing. 

While they kept exchanging stories, the sight of Amalia watching them interact in interest reminded Ad they weren’t alone. Elbowing his brother discreetly to get his attention, he was about to suggest they leave when one look at the Divine Doll stopped him in his tracks. 

“Um, forgive me, Amalia. But do you really think it’s a good idea to go around dressed like that?” He said instead, pointing at her outfit with one claw. 

Yugo was about to reprimand his brother when he, too, took notice of what the wild beauty was wearing. “Now that you mention it… Ad’s right, Amalia. Don’t get me wrong, you look great,” he admitted sheepishly, scratching his cheek in discomfort and ignoring the pointed look his brother sent him, “but, uh… We’re going to be moving around a lot, so maybe that’s not the most comfortable thing?”

Her eyes narrowing in slight offence, Amalia glanced down at her outfit… And immediately looked right back up, embarrassed. She was wearing the very same dress she had on when first meeting Yugo—the very same thing she had been wearing since, in fact. The boys were right, while undoubtedly beautiful, it would not do for her first adventure. 

Luckily, she knew just what to do. 

“If you want, we could call the Royal tailor to fix you something up real quick—” Yugo’s words were silenced by the Sadida Doll’s raised hand. 

“There’s no need!” She said brightly. “I actually spent hours choosing this outfit. Wait, let me just…” As she trailed off, taking on a palm-up pose, a current of air carrying brownish, autumn leaves picked up, taking the primordial siblings by surprise and forcing them, not for the first time, to avert their eyes. They couldn’t help but wonder if this kind of thing would become a recurring occurrence with Amalia around. 

When the wind finally died down again and they got to take one look at the doll, Yugo could only vaguely make out the sound of an unamused Adamaï spitting out some leaves that got in his mouth as the sound of his own blood rushing to his ears was all he could hear. And the vision before him was all he could pay attention to. 

Just like she did when she first introduced herself, Amalia had altered her physical form, although, it would be more accurate to say this time she had changed her clothing. She no longer wore the regal leafy orange and green dress the king had come to associate her with. Instead, she had donned a pair of beige pants made out of some kind of vegetal fibre he would not be able to name. She wore a simple, strapless dirty white top that left her neckline, shoulders and upper back exposed, with a pair of long, matching wristbands reaching past her biceps covering her arms and the back of her delicate hands. Joining both her upper and lower halves was a dark brown band with a large, orange leaf that covered both her chest and reached down between her legs, the same colour as the new pair of anklets around her bare feet. 

As his eyes travelled all the way up to meet her face, Yugo noticed how this time she had gone the extra mile to change her hairstyle as well. While still held up by a high ponytail, Amalia had foregone the elaborate tiara and antlers, choosing instead for her wild mane to remain as natural as possible. Still, the new look accentuated the doll’s sweeter, more delicate aspects; her silky green hair was now flufflier, with her side-bangs curling around her face and her fringe reaching past her forehead—it it weren’t for the shape of it, her hair would have been long enough to cover her eyes.  

All in all, it was definitely a much more practical outfit, a much better choice to spend a day outdoors in. Except for the fact that the way it hugged Amalia’s very curve made it increasingly difficult for Yugo not to break his concentration and plummet to the ground. And it only got worse when Amalia began turning around herself, showing off her new look. 

Then it got so bad even Adamaï noticed his struggle and had to hurry to loop their arms together so he wouldn’t lose his balance. 

“What do you think?” Amalia, blissfully unaware of the reactions she caused, asked as she finally stopped turning. She preened at them, a hand to her chest while she placed the other on her hip. “I call this one my ‘adventuring outfit’; since, you know, I figured I could use something more practical if we’re going to be walking around.”

“Good call.” Adamaï commented, his lips curling in amusement. Dear Goddess, if Amalia managed to knock Yugo’s breath out without even trying, then he didn’t even want to think what she’d be able to do if she ever put her mind to it. Raising an  eyebrow at his awestruck twin, the dragon shoved him lightly to get him back on the World of Twelve. 

When Yugo looked at him questionably, he discreetly motioned towards Amalia with his head. Eyes lighting up in realisation, the Eliatrope King straightened up, clearing his throat. 

“A very good call indeed.” Yugo agreed, before his expression softened with his next words. “That outfit looks really good on you, Amalia.” He told her sincerely, causing a lovely pink to dust her cheeks as she met his eyes shyly. After a moment when neither of them said a word, Adamaï, who was growing increasingly annoyed at this kind of thing, elbowed his brother yet again to reboot him. With a small start, Yugo cleared his throat right before using his magic to conjure a considerably-sized portal up. 

Gesturing at it, and chuckling at Amalia’s awed reaction, he offered her his hand, “Shall we?”

Amalia squealed, her fists clenched excitedly over her face. Adamaï rolled his eyes at their antics, but couldn’t suppress a soft smile from stretching over his lips. 

With an excited nod, Amalia took Yugo’s hand and let him guide her into the portal. She was about to go on her first adventure and experience travelling through an Eliatrope portal all on the same day!

Could this day get any better?!

..........................................................................................................................

“I am never doing that again.” She stated somberly after getting over her last dizzy spell, the dry heaving having finally stopped. 

Amalia could only lament the state she suddenly found herself in. Her ponytail was frazzled, her gorgeous mahogany skin was about three shades paler, she felt so drained she had no choice but to slump her ballerina-like posture forwards as she used a nearby tree for support, and her stomach still performed some somersaults from time to time. It was taking everything in her power to keep it all down.

Or whatever remained, at least. 

Glaring at the twins over her shoulder, she snapped. “Couldn’t you have warned me beforehand?!”

Startled at the sudden flaring of her temper—except for an instance or two of haughtiness, Amalia had been extremely polite and mild-mannered since she arrived— Yugo and Adamaï shared a meaningful, silent conversation over who should speak and dare elicit her wrath further. The king’s lips formed a tight line when his dragon brother oh so helpfully pointed out it had been his idea in the first place and, moreover, Amalia was his bride; it was up to him to deal with her moods. 

His nostrils flaring in annoyance, Yugo mouthed a ‘She’s not my bride’ back before the Divine Doll’s impatient “Well?” snapped their attention back to her. She was still using the tree for support, but this time she had her back to it, leaning against it with her arms crossed and an expectant eyebrow raised. 

The Eliatrope could only fidget nervously with his fingers as he finally admitted, “Well, to tell you the truth… We had no idea it would happen? You kind of are the first non-Eliatrope or non-dragon person to ever go through one of our portals.” He finished with an awkward laugh as both he and Adamaï rubbed the back of their heads sheepishly. 

Amalia closed her eyes and clenched her fists to her sides, baring her teeth in aggravation, she could feel her veins about to pop. What started out as the perfect beginning for a perfect day soon became a much more revolting affair. Literally. 

At first everything had been wonderful. She was so engrossed in the sight of Yugo smiling down at her with his hand outstretched for her to take, she only barely registered she was moving at all. And she was so captivated once again by the feeling of their bare fingers brushing she almost didn’t realise she had stepped into the portal. 

Being inside an Eliatrope portal was both a fleeting yet lingering experience. For a short few seconds all the Sadida Doll could feel was her wakfu being shaken, as if her very essence was being transported and not just her body. In the blink of an eye, they had gone from standing on her balcony (or hovering above it), several stories high, to landing just outside the palace grounds. 

It was exhilarating.

Until it wasn’t.

Just as Amalia’s feet touched the ground, the shaking feeling she experienced while inside the portal multiplied tenfold, and not in a good way. Just like before it felt like her whole essence had been travelling with her and not just her body, now it felt like only her soul had made it out, leaving behind her body and, more importantly, her stomach. Only for it to come crashing down in a split-second and with it its contents. 

One second, Amalia was standing upright, marvelling at the world around her, and the next she was bent over some bushes, emptying her stomach as she mentally begged the surrounding vegetation to forgive her. Close behind her, she had two very worried siblings fuzzing over her and asking if she was alright. 

Thinking back to that embarrassing image, the wild beauty huffed through her nose and tilted her chin up, but ultimately chose to forgive them. After all, it seemed they had been as taken aback by her reaction as her. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t get anything on my clothes.” 

Releasing relieved sighs, it didn’t take long for Yugo to grow worried again. Approaching the Divine Doll slowly, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay, though? We could always just go back if you’re not feeling well.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Amalia screeched, scandalised, jerking back from his touch even if only instinctively. “I’ve literally only been out of the palace for, like, five minutes! We cannot just go back now!”

Adamaï came to his brother’s aid, who was looking at the Sadida Doll like a wabbit caught in the headlights. “We just don’t want you over-exerting yourself, Amalia. After all, you are our responsibility…”

The doll narrowed her eyes at the dragon’s words, not appreciating how that made her feel like a child. Rolling her eyes a little petulantly, she pressed on. “Guys, I’m fine. Really. Just determined to never go through another one of your portals unless my life literally depends on it.”

“That might be a problem…” Yugo admitted quietly. Looking at everything but Amalia, he explained. “The place I want to take you to is kinda far away, my portals are the fastest way to go.”

“And why didn’t you teleport us right there in the first place?” Amalia arched an eyebrow, confused. 

“Because our portals don't work like that, not exactly…” He replied, but didn’t explain further beyond a flustered, “Let’s just say it’s really hard to tell how far our portals will take you each time, okay?”

“Okay…” Amalia drawled, trying to make sense of it all, without much success. Giving up, she asked instead, her hands on her hips as she waited for an answer, “So, how do we get there? I mean, without portals.”

It was Adamaï who responded. He pointed a claw to the jungle behind her, his height over her forcing the Sadida Doll to crane her neck to follow his finger. “We could just go straight through the jungle, but that’ll take us longer, about an hour or tw—Urk!”

He was abruptly interrupted when, much to his and Yugo’s bewilderment, Amalia grabbed his face and brought it closer to hers, yanking his full body forwards and forcing him to blink blankly at her beaming smile. “Why didn’t you just say so?! This is perfect!”

“I’ ish?” He frowned, his voice a little muffled due to the doll’s hands tightly squeezing his cheeks. At the same time, Yugo asked, “It is?”

“Of course!” Amalia exclaimed, throwing her arms to her side and finally releasing Adamaï, who couldn’t help but stumble a little even though he managed to regain his footing before crashing face-first against the floor. Sweatdropping, the doll made a mental note to be more mindful of the Eliatrope people’s personal space in the future. “We’re supposed to explore Oma Island, right? What better way to explore it than going through the jungle?” Clenching her fists close to her body excitedly, she squealed. “Oh, I will finally be able to sense what the plants around here feel!”

And with that, she turned back around, making her way into the lush, tropical vegetation with an extra skip in her step. As she went deep into the jungle, leaving a wide-eyed set of twins in her dust, the two brothers could only share bewildered glances at what had just happened. 

Okay, so Yugo’s portals making her throw up was enough for the doll to lose her temper and almost tear them a new one, but being told she’d be walking around a humid jungle for hours on end was apparently cause for celebration? And she intended to gauge how the plants felt?

“Okay, what just happened?” Yugo eventually broke the silence, asking no one in particular. His face contorted into a confused grimace as he tried to make sense of everything. “About the only thing I can sort of understand is the plant thing. She is a Sadida Doll, after all. But everything else?!”

Shaking his horned head in surrender, Adamaï limited himself to clasping his hands over his brother’s shoulders as he leaned into him. “Don’t let it get to you, Yugo. It’s plain to see one of the few constants in the Krozmos is that women are confusing; doesn’t matter if they’re Eliatropes, dragons, Divine Dolls… There’s no hope for us to ever be able to understand these beautiful, enigmatic creatures.”

As Yugo nodded absently to his brother’s conclusion, definitely seeing some truth in his statement, Amalia’s shrill and slightly irritated voice carried over to them even from within the jungle, startling them out of their thoughts. “You guys coming or what?!”

For her part, it was the doll’s turn to be startled when, as she rhythmically tapped her foot against the ground, waiting for them; a flash of blue caught her by surprise and caused her to yelp as the Eliatrope King and his dragon brother stepped out of yet another portal. 

She still had a hand to her chest when she pouted at them. “A heads-up would have been nice…”

“Sorry.” Yugo apologised meekly, rubbing the back of his head. He frowned slightly when Amalia remained rooted to the spot, looking at him expectantly. “Is anything wrong?”

“Hm, let me see…” The doll pretended to think, bringing a finger to her chin. Then, she kept the charade up by pretending to light up in realisation. “How about you lead the way since you’re the only one who knows where we’re supposed to be going?”

“Oh, right. Follow me, as Ad said, it’s pretty much a straight line to the other side.” Yugo said, motioning with his hand for them to follow him as he came to lead their little group, Amalia and Adamaï picking up the rear—if it could even be called that when there were only three people in a group. 

Now that they were back on track, Amalia allowed herself a moment to just take it all in. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she allowed her senses to be overwhelmed by all the living beings around her. She could feel the ground beneath her feet, the soily earth slipping through her toes as she curled them in pleasure. Her heartbeat was one with the oxygen and carbon dioxide being transported by the trees and plants lining their path. The light breeze caressed her skin just like the leaves at the top of the trees, rocking in the wind.  And even if she couldn’t connect to them personally given her nature, she could even sense all the little critters coexisting with the vegetation in the area through their trunks and stumps and branches. 

Nature was at peace here. It was almost as tranquil as back in Father’s realm in Inglorium. 

Oh, it was wonderful. A thousand times better than the small glimpses she would catch from her balcony. And yet, a strange sensation enveloped her, making her realise it wasn’t anywhere near enough. There was something—something powerful—pulling her towards it, telling her there was so much more out there than just what she already knew. And right now, all she knew for certain was that she needed to find whatever that was. 

It was an impulse carved deep into her skin, so deep, she would only carve herself out if she attempted to remove it. For some reason, she just knew—

“I’ve been meaning to say, Amalia, I’m rather impressed by your shapeshifting abilities.” Adamaï’s words broke her out of her trance, forcing her to blink momentarily to regain her bearings. They were certainly deeper into the jungle, judging by the way the amount of sunlight filtered through the tree leaves had decreased considerably. 

“Ad doesn’t say that to just about anyone, you know?” Yugo interjected, smiling at them over his shoulder.

“Huh?” She blinked blankly some more, before realising what they were talking about. “Oh! Um, thanks, Adamaï. Although, in this case I’m not too sure if I would call it ‘shapeshifting’; after all, I just changed my clothes.”

“Have you been capable of doing that since the beginning?” He continued, tilting his head in curiosity. “I mean, every time we’ve seen you, you always wore the same dress…”

“I just saw no reason to wear a different outfit every day.” She shrugged, before gesturing at Yugo. “I also figured not wearing very distinct clothing was an Eliatrope thing; after all, Yugo and the rest always wear the same thing!”

“We do change clothes. It’s just we don’t really go overboard unless it’s an important occasion…” The king mumbled, feeling the need to defend himself. Averting his eyes sheepishly, it was Yugo’s turn to ask, “So you’ve been changing your clothes this whole time?”

“But of course! I actually change into some pyjamas every night. What, did you think I just went to sleep wearing that dress?” She laughed at the mere thought, the sound mirthful and airy. 

As she laughed, the brothers joining in, albeit theirs was more awkward, they shared meaningful looks. As Adamaï mouthed how Yugo should really summon the Royal tailor by now, all the Eliatrope could do was mouth an embarrassed ‘I know’ back. 

After that, the conversation shifted to all kinds of topics. Now that Amalia was done with her dizzy spell for good, she was back to being the sweet and curious girl Yugo had come to know these past few weeks. As the Divine Doll chided them good-naturedly on their high intake of meat, Yugo secretly hoped nothing soured her mood in a while. 

Don’t get him wrong! Amalia was really nice most of the time, and it was understandable she’d be upset after vomiting, but the stark contrast between the cute, kind doll he’d come to know and the surly, angry creature that managed to cow them both into submission by simply raising her voice had been terrifying. 

As he regaled Amalia with some of the things he’d seen on Oma Island—and promised to eventually take her to due to her incessant prodding and puppy-bow-wow eyes—, he stumbled into a large leaf getting in the way and slapping him in the face. The action causing his companions to laugh and giggle at his expense, the Eliatrope limited himself to rolling his eyes good-naturedly before summoning forth a wakfu blade to cut the leaf off with. 

That turned out to be the wrong move. 

With a pained, strangled sound, Amalia fell to her knees, clutching a hand to her chest as she heaved, gasping laboriously for breath. His face paling at the sight of her, Yugo was by her side in an instant, holding her shoulders with one hand while the other took one of hers as he brought her closer to him. 

“Amalia, what’s wrong!? What happened?!” He questioned, alarmed, looking her over for injuries of any kind. 

“The… the… the leaf…” She finally managed to gasp out, a bead of sweat pooling at her forehead as she glanced up at Yugo weakly. 

The Eliatrope furrowed his brow, not following. He sent his brother a questioning look, but a shake of his head was all he needed to convey he too was at a loss. 

“The leaf? You mean the one I just cut?”

She nodded, the mere action requiring some effort. 

“What’s wrong with it?” asked Adamaï. 

It took Amalia a moment before she could speak, needing to regain her breath first. After what felt like an excruciatingly long time, leaning her head against a willing Yugo’s chest to better support herself, she finally explained, “Technically, I’m a Sadida, as in, one of my father’s people… I’m connected to all plant life around me. I… I feel their pain.”

Yugo felt like slapping himself, connecting the dots. “So when I cut that leaf off to clear the way, you felt it yourself.” He finished for her. He shook his head, overcome by guilt. “Amalia, I’m so sorry… I swear, I didn’t know!”

The feeling of her hand resting over his chest, right where his heart was, startled him momentarily. “It’s okay.” She smiled weakly, but not any less sincerely or beautifully, and the Eliatrope felt his heart skip a beat at the action. “Now you do, and I’m sure you’d never do anything to hurt me, at least not intentionally.”

“Should we come back?” Adamaï was addressing Yugo as he asked this, but before his brother and king could reply, Amalia cut in:

“No, no! I’m fine, really! We can continue!” She insisted. 

“You practically collapsed because I cut a leaf.” Yugo felt the need to point out, the same protective instinct from last time with Chibi and Grougal resurfacing. 

“Father said I would be a little sensitive to those things at first, and that, while my connection to nature will never be severed, I will build an immunity to it over time so the pain isn't quite as crippling. But I’m fine, really. In a few minutes, it’ll be like it never happened. Please?”

All of Yugo’s willpower to deny her and return home evaporated in an instant at the sight of her begging, doe-like eyes, tugging at his very soul. 

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine…”

“Yay!” Amalia squealed, jumping to her feet. Well, at the very least, she did look better now. Then, she raised a finger as she winked at them. “Oh, just one thing. Leave the ‘plants in the way’ thing to me, okay?”

Glancing at each other, not  really sure how to proceed at this point, the primordial twins just shrugged, giving the Divine Doll their assent. “Sure, why not?”

For the rest of the journey to the other side, it was up to Amalia to take care of the obstacles in the way, at least, when they were caused by plants growing too close to the path. Her true nature as Sadida’s eleventh doll shone through whenever plants obeyed her every command. A mere flick of her wrist was all it took for leaves and vines to move to the side and let them pass. 

Each time it happened, Yugo and Adamaï could only look on in disbelief. It truly was incredible. They idly wondered if all Sadidas could do the same thing or if it was only Amalia.

.........................................................................................................................

About an hour had passed after their little scare, this time, it was Amalia who was regaling them with whatever few anecdotes she had of her time in Sadida’s Dimension. She was currently telling them about a squabble between two of her sisters and how Sadida had to step in to break it up—not unlike any regular parent would put a stop to their kids’ bickering—, when Yugo finally caught a glimpse of what he had been leading them towards. His face breaking into a huge grin, he swiftly turned around, stopping in his tracks, his sudden action causing his companions to subconsciously follow his lead. 

Blinking blankly, Amalia asked, “Yugo? Is everything alright?”

He nodded, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than he would have liked, but that didn’t matter. He raised his hands as if that would help him convey what he wanted to say better. “Yeah, everything’s great, don’t worry. I just need you to do me a favour, can you do that?”

“Now?” Amalia questioned, tilting her head to the side. Behind her, Adamaï finally caught onto what his brother was up to and couldn’t help the small smirk that curled at his lips.  Of course, Amalia remained none-the-wiser. “Are you sure this is a good time? I mean, shouldn’t we wait until we arrive at whatever it is you want to show me?”

It was Adamaï who cut in, peering down at the doll as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “The place we want to show you will still be there even if we take a little longer. Otherwise, we would’ve been wasting our time from the moment you refused to enter another portal as long as you lived.”

“And that’s a promise I intend to keep…” She muttered to herself, dead serious. With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, she eventually gave in, raising her hands in surrender before placing them on her hips. “Okay, okay. What can I do for you, Yugo?”

“Close your eyes and cover them with your hands.” He replied simply and enigmatically. 

“What? Why do you need me to do that?!”

“I have my reasons.” He shrugged. Then, seeing the suspicion written all over her lovely face, he placed his hands on her shoulders, silently begging her to listen to him. “I promise, Amalia, this isn’t some kind of mean-spirited joke or anything of the sort; I’ll be guiding you all the way. But I need you to trust me. Can you do that? Can you trust me?”

Amalia opened her mouth, a retort on her lips, when the words died in her throat at the sight before her. Technically, it wasn’t much, just Yugo staring back at her. But there was something about the way he stared at her, the intensity behind his gaze, that made her breath hitch. She really couldn’t understand what was so important to pause their trek around the island and towards their mysterious destination, but at that moment, staring deep into Yugo’s dark brown eyes, she wanted to figure it out. 

Yugo had asked her if she trusted him, and at that moment she did. She trusted him more than any other person on Oma Island. A tiny voice deep inside told her it wasn’t just because she spent the most time with him, warning her that these things ran deeper than that, but she brushed it off for the time being. Too dazed to care. 

She almost didn’t even register her own lips moving when she said. “I do. I trust you, Yugo.”

The toothy grin he flashed her was enough for her cheeks to grow hot. 

The Divine Doll finally began to regain her senses when her eyes followed him as he moved to stand behind her. Before she could so much as ask what he was doing, Yugo simply took her by the arms and placed her hands over her eyes. A shiver ran down her spine as he whispered in her ear, “Now, close your eyes and no peeking, okay?”

“O-okay.” She gulped, letting herself be guided by the Eliatrope’s steady hands on her shoulders. 

As this all unfolded, Adamaï couldn’t help but watch the scene in astonishment. He knew he and their siblings liked to give Yugo some grief over his circumstances with Amalia and, by virtue of their close bond, the dragon knew things were much more complicated than everyone made it out to be, Yugo included. And yet, what he had just borne witness to proved there was so much more going on under the surface. 

While Yugo was a kind and caring individual, for it was in his nature, he was rarely as gentle with others as he was with Amalia. At least, not since his body and mind were finally in sync. And even then, as soon as his mind began to mature even as his body couldn’t keep up, Yugo began to reserve that softness of his to small, harmless creatures and children. 

The only exception was when their siblings had a problem and needed comfort. However, the thing with the Primordial Eliatropes and their dragons was they were all too proud to ask for help even when they needed it most. 

And yet, here he was, carefully guiding Amalia around, both his voice and touches the softest of caresses. A part of Adamaï couldn’t help but think his brother’s behaviour had less to do with the Divine Doll being a literal gift from the gods and more to do with something much deeper. 

Not like Yugo would ever admit it. 

“Ad, you coming?” He asked over his shoulder, breaking the dragon out of his thoughts. With a shake of his head to clear his ideas, Adamaï nodded and rejoined them in no time at all. 

Finally, they reached the edge of the jungle, their destination just up ahead of them. A smile stretching over his lips at the sight, Yugo leaned in a little closer to Amalia, whispering in her ear and finding some sick pleasure in the way a shudder still ran down her spine in response.  

“You can look now, Amalia.”

“Ugh, finally!” She exclaimed, wasting no time in removing her hands from her face and opening her eyes. Unfortunately, that proved to be a bad choice, for the moment she opened her eyes, they were assaulted by the sun’s brightness, causing her to hiss in pain and close them yet again. 

Oh, when would she learn? The same thing happened when she was born and she first saw her father and sisters! Unlike her bond with plant-life, the doll had a feeling that would never become any less excruciating. 

Muttering something unintelligible under her breath and rubbing her eyes, blinking to regain her eyesight, the doll’s gaze could finally discern what was before her. She let out a loud gasp. 

The sight before her was a vast expanse of blue, a giant body of water like no other reaching as far as met the eye and captivating her very soul. There was even a point in the horizon where the water and the sky converged, and thanks to the clear skies above them, it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended. She remembered catching a glimpse of something similar from her balcony, but the view couldn’t compare to this. The water’s movement was rhythmic and hypnotic, forming waves, crested on top by wonderful, foamy white right until they crashed against the shore. 

Excitement coursing through her veins as she took it all in, starry-eyed, the doll couldn’t help but shift involuntarily where she stood, the action bringing her attention to the new sensation under her feet. She moved around experimentally, amazed at the warm, grainy feeling under her soles and between her toes. Preferring to go barefoot, Amalia was used to feeling sturdy ground, plush grass, or, more recently, smooth, cold stone under her feet, but this… This was entirely new. 

What was this?

As if reading her thoughts, Yugo spoke. “This,” he gestured at the landscape before them, “is the beach. Pretty cool, huh?”

All Amalia could offer in response was a hushed nod, too awed for words. 

Using her silence to his advantage, he stepped a little closer to her and pointed at the body of water. “You see that right over there?” This time, she managed to voice an ‘uh-huh’, “That’s the sea. Well, a small part of it, at least; it’s immense, really. And right now, you’re stepping on sand.”

At last, Amalia found her voice, even if her amazement didn’t decrease in the slightest. “Yugo, this… This is incredible! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it!”

“I figured you might not have this in Sadida’s Dimension since there aren’t many plants that grow in this kind of ecosystem. So I wanted to show it to you—.”

Before he could even finish talking, Amalia had dashed forward and in the direction of the sea, kicking up a plume of sand that forced Yugo to use his cloak to cover both himself and Adamaï lest it got in their faces, or their eyes, or their mouths… They could only look on, surprised, as the doll came to kneel right at the shore, where the waves crashed. But while Adamaï looked on amusedly as she cupped her hands to drink some water, Yugo could only look on, horrified. 

He was even more horrified at the sight of his twin doing nothing to stop her. 

“Ad, what are you doing?!” He screeched, frustrated beyond belief. “We have to stop her!”

But much to his consternation, Adamaï only rolled his eyes good-naturedly at him. Boy, the dragon understood having to make sure she was okay lest they risked facing the gods’ wrath, but his brother could certainly get overprotective.

“Relax, bro. Let her learn on her own.” Then, to Yugo’s disbelief, he chuckled, “Besides, it’ll be fine to see the look on her face right before she spits the salt water in disgust.”

The king pursed his lips, his patience running thin.

“Adamaï.” 

“Hm?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What does salt do to plants?”

“Huh? Well, it kills them, of course.”

What kind of question was that?

“Right. And what is Amalia?”

“She’s a plant doll—.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“That’s what I thought.” Yugo couldn’t help but comment, a little smugly. After a beat, the two of them scrambled to get to Amalia and prevent her from hurting herself. In their haste, they couldn’t help but lose their footing in the sand and come tumbling down. Raising his head and spitting out quite the mouthful of sand, the Eliatrope suddenly felt like hitting himself. 

“Well, duh!” He exclaimed, and before Adamaï could question him about it, he extended his hand and created a portal right underneath them that dropped them right behind Amalia. 

Unfortunately, they were too late. The moment they landed, Amalia had just taken her first sip of the water. Eyes wide with terror, the siblings could only brace themselves for the worst and hold each other for comfort. 

…and then, their expressions fell in confusion when Amalia simply let out a sound of complaint as she winced and made a disgusted grimace in response. “Yuck! By Sadida’s trees! What on the World of Twelve was that?!”

While a still recovering Adamaï could only let his face drop on the sand with a resounding thud!, all a gobsmacked Yugo managed to say was, “Uh…yeah. Sea water is salty. Drinking it is not good for you.”

“No kidding!” Amalia commented as she stood up, dusting sand off her pants. “That thing almost made me throw up again.” Then, when she turned around to look back at them, her brow furrowed at the sight of an exhausted Adamaï sprawled face-down on the sand and the bewildered look on Yugo’s face. “Uh… you guys okay?”

“Never been better”, came Adamaï's sarcastic, albeit muffled, reply, his face still on the sand. 

While the doll could only blink blankly at their antics, uncomprehending, Yugo tried looking around for something to distract her with and move on from their little, apparently unnecessary freak-out. Eyes scanning the beach, they lit up at what he saw. 

“Amalia, look!”

Amalia followed his finger to the direction it was pointing at, her eyes widening in interest at what she saw. Lounging lazily over a piece of stranded wood on the sand, was one funny-looking little creature. It was blue and red in colour and had a gelatinous quality, so much so, its trunk was practically translucent, revealing what looked like several hearts of different sizes. Its eyes were big and beady, but it was hard to tell where its trunk ended and its head started when its other more distinguishable feature was a series of tentacles. 

It was both kind of disgusting and kind of cute. 

“Um, what is that?” She questioned, pointing at the thing. 

“It’s a Kralamoure.” It was Adamaï who answered. However, when Amalia turned around once more to better face him, she instinctively took a step back in surprise when she noticed a blue and white Kralamoure now occupied the dragon’s place. Adamaï couldn’t help but smirk in satisfaction at her reaction. “You’re not the only one who knows a thing or two about shapeshifting, Amalia.”

“Wait, you can shapeshift too, Adamaï?”

With a nod and a puff of smoke, he turned back into his draconically humanoid form. “It’s actually a dragon thing, or at least, it’s something Eliatrope dragons can do.” He shared a glance with Yugo, asking for confirmation, which he got in the form of a nod. “I’m sure you must have noticed how different our dragon siblings are.”

Now that he mentioned it, Amalia had taken notice of that the few times she’d seen a dragon around. The scarce few times she caught a glimpse of Phaeris, he looked like a winged, scaled Osamodas; Grougal was almost indiscernible from a human; Shinonomé was a horned, red-skinned woman; and both Baltazar and Efrim seemed to prefer their natural forms. 

She shuddered subtly at the memory of the smallest dragon. The least she thought about him and his terrifying eyes, the better.

In fact, now that she allowed her gaze to travel up and down Adamaï’s form, it finally registered just how different he truly was from his siblings. While the other dragons either took on their true forms or adopted more or less humanoid ones, Adamaï was essentially a dragon with humanoid features. He was bipedal at all times, and his movements were very much human, but he had claws instead of hands or feet, he made no effort to hide his tail or his physique as they were perfectly reptilian, and his face was more of a snout than an actual face. 

And to think they’d been taken aback just because she changed her own clothes when their dragons could do that. It was unbelievable.

Unaware of the thoughts running through her mind, Yugo pointed out anecdotally, “You know, when it’s Grougal’s turn to patrol, he usually takes the form of a giant Kralamoure to keep intruders at bay.”

“Wait, really? Do you favour Kralamoures as well, Adamaï?”

“Not really.” The dragon deadpanned, having to suppress a shudder at an unpleasant memory right before flashing his brother a glare for chuckling at his reaction. “I mostly just spend my time like this. After all,” a pair of wings sprouted from his back, “I can patrol from above just the same.”

“I see… And why do you need to patrol in the first place?”

Tensing up at her question and the particular can of worms that could open, Yugo scrambled to change the subject. It was a delicate topic so it’d be best if he handled it smoothly. 

“H-hey! Wanna go for a swim, Amalia?” He said, clasping his hands. 

If Nora had been there, she would’ve taken the opportunity to point out her brother had many qualities, but being smooth just wasn’t one of them.

While it didn’t go unnoticed by Amalia how he had changed the subject, much more urgent matters occupied her mind at the moment. “Are you serious? Absolutely not!”

That… was not the reaction Yugo was hoping for, even if it did seem to take her mind off asking awkward questions. “What? Why? That’s pretty much what beaches are for; having some fun swimming in the sea and sunbathing.”

The Divine Doll just rolled her eyes at his hopelessness. “Yeah, with the appropriate clothing! I can’t go swimming like this!” She gestured at her ‘adventuring outfit’, as she’d called it, “This was meant to be more practical wear when exploring; it’s not a swimsuit!”

“Well, why don’t you just change clothes again and put on a swimsuit, then?” Yugo suggested uneasily, not sure what the problem was. By his side, Adamaï silently mused to himself that his brother might not survive the sight of the Sadida Doll in a swimsuit. 

“Excuse me?!” Amalia snapped, incredulous. “Didn’t you hear me when I said I spent hours choosing this outfit? I can’t just up and make whatever! You can’t rush genius, you know?” She crossed her arms and stuck up her nose in a huff. 

For his part, Yugo was idly wondering where this world’s champions asking for a rematch were when you needed them. He also made a mental note, not for the first time, to summon the Royal tailor to have some clothes made for Amalia as soon as they arrived. The fact that she could make her own clothes and change in no time at all was a bonus, but he honestly wasn’t looking forward to having this same conversation every time he tried to surprise her and her outfit wasn’t appropriate for the occasion. 

Taking notice of the king’s slightly overwhelmed expression and realising she might have gone a little too far—even though she knew what she said made perfect sense. I mean, who takes someone to a place with the intention of swimming and doesn’t warn them to wear a swimsuit beforehand?—, she bit her lip. Clearing her throat even as she flicked her head in a proud display, she tentatively said, “A-anyway, j-just because we can’t exactly go swimming, it doesn’t mean we can’t still have some fun in the water. Since I’m already barefoot, we could try walking along the shoreeeeEEEEEE!”

Her words were interrupted by a loud squeal when some water splashed all over her, leaving the Sadida Doll positively soaked from head to toe. Her mouth gaping like a fish and her eyes about as wide as the Kralamoure still lounging on its piece of wood, she stood frozen in place as Yugo doubled down laughing, Adamaï's own loud cackles echoing from above them.

Normally, Adamaï would never stoop so low, but Amalia was clearly overreacting and it was too good an opportunity to pass up on. “What’s the matter, Amalia? I thought you said it was okay to have some fun in the water?” He mocked between laughs. 

Her eye twitched as she felt the water chill her to the bone, however, it didn’t take long for the outrage bubbling up within her to warm her whole body up in righteous indignation. Teeth borne as her face contorted into the kind of menacing scowl that would have made Sram proud, Amalia wasted no time taking revenge. 

“Why you little weed!” She screeched to the top of her lungs, throwing her arm out and commanding two rather tall palm trees right within reach of Adamaï to spring into action. 

“Wait, what the—!?” Before the dragon had time to react, the palm trees had him trapped between their leaves, acting almost as two giant hands he was powerless against. As he wriggled and squirmed, Amalia brought her hands down, and with that the two palm trees bent forward until Adamaï’s body was submerged under water. A few seconds passed where Yugo was beginning to seriously worry about his brother’s safety, when Amalia finally released him with a satisfied hum as she dusted her hands off. 

Looking back and forth between his soaked brother and the smirking Divine Doll, Yugo was wise enough to take a few steps back and away from her, making the resolution of never incurring her wrath. Given her usually sweet demeanour and child-like wonder, it was easy to forget she, too, was a demigoddess, and all that entailed. 

Spitting out some salt water and sand that got in his mouth as he tried to sit back up, an unamused Adamaï couldn’t help but spit sarcastically. “Wow, your bride is such a little flower, isn’t she, Yugo?”

The answer was immediate, surely a result of all the teasing he had had to endure a few hours prior. “For the last time, she is not my bride!”

But as Adamaï winced at his brother’s unnecessarily loud volume, his words gave Amalia pause, her gaze turning contemplative as she pondered them. Now that she thought about it, that had indeed been the reason why she’d been sent to Oma, to be Yugo’s bride because he was supposed to be her suitor. And even though Yugo had explained to her on her first day why that couldn’t be, he had yet to answer her questions regarding what it all really meant. He’d said that while brides and marriages tended to go hand-in-hand, they couldn’t get married as there was no guarantee they would ever fall in love. But, what was love?

She knew she loved her father and sisters and they loved her in return. The warm, happy feeling she got with them had to mean something. But what made it different from the kind of love that made people marry each other?

As Yugo was busy bickering with Adamaï over how, technically, he had no one to blame but himself, he heard Amalia’s voice calling out to him softly. “Yugo?”

“What is it, Amalia?” Looking over his shoulder to give her his full attention, he couldn’t keep his eyes from widening at the unexpected vulnerability she was showing. Her posture was hesitant, one arm draped over her form as her brown eyes were fixated on the sand as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. The gentle afternoon breeze weaving through her green locks. 

Her next question made his heart stop, “What is love?”

Tensing up, his own posture straightening up almost involuntarily, he sent his brother a pleading look, only for him to raise his claws up in surrender and walk a little ways off from them to give them some space. Yugo was not above suspecting he was only doing that as retaliation for not helping him when Amalia almost drowned him. 

The traitor. 

He made a show of clearing his throat and straightening his cloak as he stalled for time, his mind racing to find a suitable answer to her question. Or even better! Until she grew self-conscious and backtracked, apologising for ever bringing the topic up right before he assured her it was fine while also making sure to stow that conversation for another day. Hopefully never. 

But Amalia seemed to have no intention of showing him some mercy and giving him an out. Instead, she just remained where she was, waiting for his answer with bated breath, her big, brown eyes pleading with him and… He was a goner. There was no way he could just deprive her of an answer he had promised he would eventually give her when she looked at him like that. 

He was half-beginning to suspect she knew of this fact and used it to her advantage. And not for the first time he found himself cursing Sadida and his impeccable craftsmanship.

Rubbing the back of his head through his hood in surrender, he heaved a deep sigh as he trudged towards her to close the distance between them a little. Though, to make things easier, he made it a point to stare at the ocean and the afternoon sun rather than at her. 

“What is love, indeed?” He mused aloud. He chuckled through his nose. “To be honest, I’m not too sure anyone has the right answer for that. Would it be okay if I try explaining what love is to me?”

Coming to gaze upon the horizon as well, a small, grateful smile on her lips, Amalia shrugged. “It’s still more than what I know.”

Well, he supposed that was fair. “The thing is, Amalia, it’s very hard to find a suitable definition for love because there’s actually so many kinds of love, which means all definitions are simultaneously right and wrong, it just depends on the context. “

“What if the context is when two people wish to marry?” She asked innocently but bluntly. 

Wow, Sadida’s little flower didn’t pull back any punches, now did she? 

“Then that’s what we call romantic love, it’s different from the love you feel for your friends or your family.”

Amalia frowned, not sure how to feel knowing there was a different kind of love beyond what she felt for her family and Yugo—she felt particularly concerned for what that might entail for her friendship with Yugo. 

“But why? What makes ‘romantic love’ different?,” she air-quoted, staring back at him even as he was resolute in keeping his gaze fixed in front of him. 

The task before him was nothing if not daunting, the fact that he hadn’t really moved past flings in this lifetime —or, according to Qilby, any lifetime, really— made explaining such an abstract concept to a Divine Doll like Amalia, a creature that encapsulated all the grace and power belonging to a goddess and possessed a sense of child-like innocence and and wonder at the same time nothing sort of a Kerubean task. 

But he promised her he would explain things to her and it wouldn’t be very kingly of him to back out on their deal now. 

“All I can say for certain is that you’ll know when the time is right.” He finally said, his dark brown eyes glazed over at the phantom heartbeats he was trying to feel anew. “When you’re in love, you just know the love you feel for that person is different, despite how similar it might look to every other kind.

“You’ll find yourself constantly thinking about that person and wanting to look your best for them. And I don’t mean just wanting to look pretty, but you want them to see your best qualities, hoping that will make them fall for you. And you’ll find yourself appreciating all of their best qualities too.” He chuckled, biting his lip in amusement. “Oh, and for a good while you’ll even find their flaws charming! There’s a good reason people tend to say love is blind, after all…”

Finally, he turned contemplative, his voice carrying a particular softness that made Amalia listen to him with rapt attention, sensing what he said next was the most important thing of all:

“But more than anything, you want that person to be happy. You want them to be happy, and safe, and seeing them smile can light up your whole day and it’s incredible. Because you just want the best for them and there’s no better feeling than knowing someone feels the same way about you. I don’t know, being in love can be wonderful, I suppose. So much so, you end up asking that person to marry you because you want to secure you’ll both get to experience that same feeling every day for the rest of your lives.”

As Yugo kept talking, he honestly forgot all about the world around him, too busy lost in his thoughts, to the point he was mostly just thinking aloud. While he was certainly happy with the life he led, as it was an honour to have their people’s unwavering trust and nothing quite filled him like experiencing everything the Krozmos had to offer, a part of him couldn’t quite get over how he never really met the kind of person that made him want to settle down. 

Over the centuries he’d been with some really wonderful people. They had so much fun and they were all great, but none of them ever felt like his anchor. Not in the sense that they would tie him down, but more as in they’d ground him to the point of wanting to share his life with them. The fact that they had very different lifespans didn’t help matters. 

When they first met, they would always be in sync. They would all let themselves be swept off their feet by the appeal of an adventuring king, inebriated by the thrill of it all. But the more time passed, the more they wanted different things. And the more time passed, the more they were forced to admit they would never be able to grow old together; they would never be able to share a life together. 

It was always the same song and dance, and it always broke his heart. And yet, he never felt truly brokenhearted. 

Sometimes he wondered if it was because he knew how things would end before they even started and unconsciously kept them all at arm’s length. Never close enough to get under his skin and steal his heart. Never close enough to become a part of him. 

He was so engrossed in his own thoughts, he couldn’t help but flinch when he felt Amalia taking his hand and resting her head against his arm, causing a tingle to run up and down of it, a content smile on her face. Not for the first time, his breath hitched when she raised her head to meet his gaze. 

“You’re right, Yugo. That all sounds wonderful.” Snuggling closer to him, she sighed wistfully. “I really hope I get to be an actual bride one day.”

Despite the cosy glow of the afternoon sun and the warm temperatures typical of Oma Island, Yugo felt his blood run cold at those words. The tingling sensation in his arm gave way to numbness, while his mind felt overwhelmed by a million wayward thoughts, battling for dominance. 

How did things get like this, with Amalia cuddling his arm like a throw pillow. And all those looks she would send him—innocent and sweet, but hypnotising and alluring like a siren song. How did he know she wasn’t deliberately pretending not to know the effect she had on him? How could he know Efrim wasn’t right and she hadn’t been trained to seduce him?

After all, now that he thought about it, she seemed perfectly at ease with the idea of remaining at the palace even if he wouldn’t take her as his bride. What kind of person did that unless they had some ulterior motives? Thinking back, given her sole purpose was to act as his bride, the moment he turned down the offer she should have been more than happy to go back home… unless she was counting on it to use it as an opportunity to make him fall for her!

Something dark and cynical bubbled up to the surface as he lamented his carelessness, his jaw and fists clenching at the thought, frustrated with himself. One thing was treating Amalia kindly and respectfully, another very different thing was making a fool of himself for her. 

But just then, as he chanced a look at her, all those thoughts of Amalia being some conniving seductress vanished at the sight of her smiling face. So sweet, so genuine, so radiant. There was no way someone like Amalia could ever conspire behind his back like that. But the familiarity she treated him with was cause for concern, only, perhaps it was his fault, rather than a conscious attempt at manipulating him. Maybe he kept sending her mixed signals that made her believe she indeed had a shot of ever becoming his queen.

He had to suppress a groan at the memory of all the times he stood too close to her, all the times he didn’t hesitate to take her hands in his, the intimacy belying the way he led her earlier that day while she had her eyes closed… If Amalia behaved like she was his bride, it was because he himself made her believe that. He had to find a way to put an end to that mistake without making the even graver mistake of offending the World of Twelve’s gods. 

He was not in love with Amalia. For the sake of his people, he could not be in love with her.

Amalia had been basking in the warm afternoon sun when she felt Yugo shift underneath her. She peered up curiously at him when he gingerly grabbed her by the arms and pushed her away from him gently. Her frown only deepened when he didn’t look at her. 

“Let’s go back home, okay?”

As Yugo made his way back into the jungle, Amalia could only share a perplexed look with Adamaï before following suit. 

Was it something she said?

..........................................................................................................................

While the trek back to the palace had certainly been more awkward than before, with Yugo once again leading their little group but not saying a word, Amalia couldn’t help the immense joy she felt. She had been on her first adventure! She had left the palace and ventured into the island’s lush jungle, connecting to nature at last. She had even seen the sea! Yugo had been right, that had to be about the only thing you wouldn’t be able to find in Sadida’s Dimension. 

She was so making a swimsuit for the next time they went! 

Even with the few hiccups they’d had along the way, all in all, it had been a perfect day. She couldn’t wait until their next outing. With a small blush forming on her cheeks, she dared to hope maybe next time it would only be Yugo and her. 

Don’t get her wrong, she rather liked Adamaï, he was always very kind to her. But for some reason she couldn’t quite explain, there was something special about when it was just Yugo and her. 

As they finally arrived at the side of the castle where her room was, her balcony high above them, she turned to them. “Guys, I just want to say I had a wonderful time today. I can hardly wait for our next adventure! Thank you so much!”

“Don’t mention it, Amalia. It was our pleasure.” The Eliatrope King offered her a smile, but it didn’t quite feel like the usual smiles he would send her. It felt kind of… forced.

“I’m sure next time will be even better.” Adamaï told her with a nod of his head. 

“Amalia, I—” Whatever it was Yugo meant to say next died in his throat at the unexpected arrival of Phaeris. Amalia couldn’t help but take notice of the fact that he was in his winged, humanoid form. 

“Yugo, Adamaï!” He exclaimed, before taking notice of Amalia standing right there. “Phaeris hopes this isn’t a bad time.”

Whatever hesitation marred Yugo’s face moments prior was immediately discarded at the sight of his dragon brother, his expression turning serious and focused, like a king should be. 

“It’s alright, Phaeris. Is something the matter?”

“Phaeris wishes to discuss some Cra sentinel sightings. The rest of the Council is already waiting for us at the council room.”

“Cra sentinels, huh?” Yugo muttered to himself, at the same time as a Adamaï, who was holding his chin pensively, mused aloud, “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“We should depart as soon as you bid Lady Amalia goodbye.” Phaeris’ comment reminded both twins of the Sadida Doll’s presence. And of the little problem returning her to her room without their portals and no visible door posed. 

“We’re sorry that we have to leave so abruptly Amalia,” Yugo began, sharing a nod with Adamaï, “but Ad can fly you up to your room in no time at all.”

But, to their surprise, the doll just waved them off. “Oh, don’t worry about me! I’ll be just fine. You guys go take care of your duties.”

“Are you sure?” Yugo felt the need to ask, not feeling so sure himself. 

She scoffed good-naturedly. “Positive.”

Before any of the Primordial Eliatropes could get another word in, a gigantic, thick vine sprouted from underneath Amalia’s feet and carried her all the way over to her balcony. Once she was hovering over it, she gingerly jumped down the vine while it came back the way it came from. 

“Thank you again, guys! See you soon!” She turned around to wave them goodbye, which they all hesitantly mimicked, still taken aback by what they’d just seen. 

Divine Doll: 7; Eliatrope Council: 0.

Back in her room, Amalia decided to take a little more time before she changed out of her adventuring outfit and into her pyjamas. She found she quite liked her little ensemble; maybe she should use it more often. Stretching to relieve tensions from her super charged day, she let out a contented sigh, feeling happier than she had been in a while. 

Before getting into the room, she allowed herself to loiter around her balcony a little while longer. As the setting sun’s rays bathed anything they could reach and she leaned against the railing, her eyes catching sight of Yugo as he stepped inside one of his portals—surely to get to the council room—, his words and everything he’d done for her that day kept replaying in her mind. 

As she thought about everything he said about what love was and how it felt like, especially knowing your special someone felt the same, Amalia couldn’t stop a small smile from curling at her lips at the thought of getting to experience that kind of love one day. 

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

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a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - mentions of cheating

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 13

Matt joined me two weeks later. Little was said on the night of his return. We exchanged forced smiles. Luckily, there were a lot of familiar faces around and this helped disguise the awkwardness of the moment.

After everyone left, Matt and I finally had to face each other. He walked up to me, took my face in his hands, looked into my eyes, and said, “It’s over, y/nn. I swear to you. It’s over.”

I didn’t speak. I just listened carefully as he continued. “I guess I got caught up in a situation that was out of hand from the beginning. She and I come from two different worlds. I don’t like being exploited. I can’t live like that. Don’t get me wrong. She’s a nice girl, but not for me.”

I didn’t want to hear any more. I looked up at him, half-listening to what he was saying and at the same time asking myself how I could go on, knowing that the future would bring only more temptations for him. Love was much more complicated than I had ever imagined.

The silence between the two of us continued until Matt had had enough and said, “Let’s forget it. Forgive me, please.” Then, with that little-boy look that always seemed to capture my heart, he said, using Flip Wilson’s favorite Geraldine line, “I guess the devil made me do it!”

I agreed.

I would be a little more skeptical now.

And there was still one more matter to take care of. I walked into his bathroom, went through his makeup kit, and pulled out a telegram I knew he’d received earlier. It simply read, i just don’t understand—scoobie. It was from Julia Ernst. I knew it. Scoobie was a name she had given herself, he confessed later. That line was also the title of the first hit record she’d recorded in the early sixties. Obviously, Matt had totally disassociated himself from her, cutting off their ties.

“It bothers me knowing it’s there,” I said. I simply tore it to shreds and with total gratification flushed it down the toilet.

“Not too much goes by you, does it, Little One? For such a little girl, you’re a typical woman.” He was laughing. “I guess I’ve got to keep on my toes.”

I returned his smile but thought: No, I’m the one who has to keep on her toes. After the ordeal with Julia Ernst, I still suspected that there were other women.

Occasionally I’d read or hear about Matt romancing his latest leading lady. I’d see press-released pictures of them riding down Sunset Boulevard on his new motorcycle or hear about a new car he’d bought for a young starlet just before they’d started shooting a picture. There was always room for doubt. It was difficult to differentiate between gossip and fact, and I’d get crazed with worry.

Before I started traveling with Matt on a permanent basis, I discovered notes and cards tucked away on a shelf in his closet, notes that read, “I had a wonderful time, Honey, thanks for the evening.” Or, “When are we going to get together again? It’s been two days, and I miss you.” When I voiced my suspicions, he denied everything and accused me of “imagining things.” He told me I was ridiculous for believing the gossip columnists. Yet I couldn’t help remembering that he’d told me the same thing when I’d asked him about Julia Ernst.

If I really challenged him, I always ran the risk of his threatening to send me home to my parents. He knew this tactic always worked. The first time it happened, he was filming Spinout and we were talking about his costar, Shelley Fabares. I suggested going to the set and meeting her.

“It’d be a good idea if you didn’t,” he said.

“Why not? I’m not doing anything. I could come and have lunch with you.”

I’d obviously said the wrong thing. He shot me a menacing look and said quietly, “That’s it, woman! I don’t want to hear another word.”

It was foolish of me, but I didn’t ignored his warning. “Well,” I persisted, “is there something you’re hiding that you don’t want me to see?” He flew into a rage.

“I don’t have a goddamn thing to hide. You’re getting a little too aggressive and demanding. It might be a good idea if you visited your parents for a while.”

Shocked, I yelled, “Well I’m not going!”

“I think you should. In fact, I’ll help you.” He walked over to my closet and proceeded to throw every piece of clothing I had on the floor, hangers included, along with my suitcase on top of the clothes.

“All right, woman. Start packing!”

I couldn’t believe this overreaction. It was one of four things: He was innocent, or I had made him feel guilty, or he was guilty, and I’d made him feel even more so, or it was simply his ongoing disgust with the inane plot of the film and he’d chosen me as a target for his anger.

Sobbing, I started to pack as he turned and strode out of the room. Moments later I heard him yelling for Nate to make a reservation. “Get her on the next flight out. She’s going back to her parents.” There was a finality in his voice that I had never heard before. Hysterical, I began folding my clothes as he continued yelling in the other room. I packed slowly, stunned by the blowup.

When he came back into the room, I felt humiliated. I continued folding clothes, sobbing uncontrollably. “You’re too goddamn demanding,” he said, staring at me in silence. “Hurry up. It’s time to go.”

I got up slowly and started toward the door. Just as I reached it, I felt his hand on my shoulder, turning me around, and then, miraculously, I was in his arms, and he was holding me tight.

“Now do you understand?” As he spoke, I was sobbing against his shoulder. “Do you see that you need this? You need someone to take you right to this point and put you in your place.”

I was relieved and happy to be back in his arms. Anything he’d have said would’ve made sense to me in that moment. What I didn’t realize until later was that this was Matt’s technique of keeping me under control.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - sorry for the short chapter i just needed to get one out!! ill double post tonight🎀