#enchanted island you will always be famous. to me.

[soldatrose]

happy 28th of september to every production of giulio cesare who's ever had to find an innovative way of showing pompey's decapitation without actually showing pompey's decapitation

and happy 28th of september to every prod of gc going "what if there was a statue?"

[syrma-sensei]

→ A True Victory.

gif credit

pairing: daemon targaryen x lannister!reader.

rating: explicit.

warning: polygamy, established relationship, breeding kink, creampie, light sub/dom dynamics...

word count: 2.4k

summary: the newly-crowned king of the narrow sea returns to court victorious, but his greater triumph is crowning you with the dragon sigil.

PART II: A DRAGON'S GLORY.

PART III: A LIONESS'S HOME.

masterlist | ao3

YOU LIKE HIS NEW HAIRSTYLE, in fact, the prince never ceases to enchant you by his sharp looks, and the ridiculous amount of shameless sighs and lingering eyes on him confirm that you're not the only one who's quite taken by the prince. However, any sign of infatuation on your side is masterfully hidden under a cold façade. You sip from your wine and keep on exchanging the silly topic you're having with the other courtier ladies. Untill another, more of importance, is brought up.

“I heard that Lord Corlys is seeking an alliance with one of the free cities.” Lady Redwyne says.

“To the son of the Sealord of Braavos, or so I've heard.” Lady Strong remarks, before her lips press delicately on the rim of her goblet.

Joselyn Redwyne's puckered lips tighten in distaste, “Oh, that is awful to hear,” Her eyes drift momentarily to the King who's laughing along his brother on something the Queen has said, “The King mustn't stand by and do nothing about it. The retreat of the Velaryons' fleet will weaken the royal navy, thus, will put the King's reign in danger.”

“I do not think so,” Lady Strong answers, “Now the Prince is back at court victorious, and the two royal brothers made peace with eachother. The realm is stronger than ever. Isn't that right, my lady?” She turns her head towards you, a taunting grin visiting her lips.

A cold smile slips into yours, “The house of the dragon is at the height of its strength, Lady Strong, one more fleet or less cannot prove that his Grace's grasp on the realm has faltered.”

“Even when your prince husband fled to Dragonstone with two thousands men of the City Watch?” Lady Redwyne says.

Your grip tightens around the stem of your goblet. That again. They must always rub it in your face; your husband's abandonment of you, they're impudent enough to do so; it gives them a large amount of self-satisfactory to make a lioness of the rock who's wed to a fierce and royal dragon cornered, humiliated even. You smile at her, nevertheless; you'd never rise to the bait. Instead, and like the dutiful lady you are, who harbours great love for her husband, you choose to defend him.

“My prince husband had his personal reasons to pass some time alone on Dragonstone away from court.” Your gaze shifts to the prince, and fuck, he's looking at you, smirking. Your eyes lock for a moment before they flit back to the old lady. “And as Lady Strong just said, the Prince is now home, triumphant with the Triarchy destroyed. The realm owes him a lot.”

“Dear me, such a shame he did not want his wife's company in his time of solitude there.” The old lady murmurs.

The anger that has been huddling within your chest since the Prince's return finally snaps, and you decide to let it out on the old hag that chose not to keep her mouth shut. The moment your lips crack open, ready to shoot a snarky remark at her, you feel a very familiar warmth surronds you from behind.

“A shame indeed,” You hear the usual drawl in your husband's voice, “But such cold and grotesque island as Dragonstone is no suitable place for my delicate lady wife. Do you not agree, my ladies?”

“Prince Daemon.” Your company of nattering ladies all dipped in short courtesy for him.

You allow yourself to grin, just slightly, before you press your lips purse into thin line.

Your husband's hands perch gently on your shoulders, his thumbs squeezing a bit, and you shiver under his touch. His rough-padded fingers trail up to your neck, tilting your head aside so he can look at your eyes. You have the famous green eyes of the Lannisters, and they're burning no less than the wild fire. “Her Grace, Queen Alicent, has just mentioned to me the new additions to the gallery. Would you care to tour me around, my lady?” His thumb traces your cheek in a circular pattern. His public show of affection has been one of the perks you take huge delight in once. How he'd kiss you, caress you in front of the court. Abashedly, declaring his love and devotion to you. You took sick pleasure in making the ladies at court jealous and envious of your position. The woman who has it all. That what some would call you, and how would they not. You're the younger sister of the Lannister lord twins; a high-born lady with generous wealth, who happened to catch the interest of the King's younger brother, he took it so far that he named you the Queen of Love and Beauty after he's won an attorney, and decorated your head with a crown. Offending both his and his wife's houses. But he doesn't care. And perhaps that's the most alluring trait that made you fall in love with the handsome prince; he's taken you as a second wife, in the tradition of his house. He didn't care about the havoc he faced for that, and your family didn't actually mind as it comes back at them with the advantage of having you marrying a royalty.

A dragon marrying a lioness, it made quite the shake in the realm. And everyone acquiesced to the viciousness of your love.

Daemon could've sworn that the fire in your eyes is more lethal than Caraxes', and the Rogue Prince is fond of playing with yours. You smile cordially at your husband, “Of course, my love.” Then you turn to your companions, “If you will excuse us, Your Ladyships.” You remove his arms from around you, but he offers you his elbow, and you have no choice but to accept it.

You two walk into the palace in silence. Your feet clanging against the corridors floor, your hand still latches onto his arm. Once in the gallery, Daemon orders the servants and guards out. When he makes sure that you two are alone, he takes the opportunity and leans into your neck, pressing light kisses on your anointed skin.

“How I have missed you.” He whispers desperately as he inhales the sweet scent of the Lysene oils he's used to gift you. You almost give in. Every resolve you solidly built to fortify yourself against him is falling apart at a mere touch of his. You truly love him, and he truly owns you, body and heart. You're his precious prize, therefore, he cannot treat you as such, and you'll make sure that he'd pay for hurting you. He's your husband, your lord, your prince, your beloved. But you're a lioness of the Rock, who holds great pride, and your dragon wounded it deeply.

You shake away from his touch, “Oh have you?” Turning your head to face him, your feigned smile finally drops. “Well, I have not.”

You step forwards, making sure his body warmth is fairly away from you.

He strides towards you, “(Y/N), darling...” His steps come to a haul when you spin around to stop him.

“You cannot go and abandon me in an overnight, and come back after four years like nothing happened, Daemon!”

The latter stills on his spot, looking at you blankly, “We were at war, love, what did you expect from me?”

“You did not fly to Dragonstone because you were at war, Daemon.” You hiss at his face through gritted teeth.

“I was at one with my brother.” He replies frankly.

“And you deemed that leaving me, your fucking lawful wife, here suffering from courtiers looking at me sideways, and whispering the foulest things behind my back, to the point they don't have any sliver of courtesy and say it in my face, would be a great notion? How smart of you, husband.”

A small yelp escapes your throat as Daemon's hand clasps on your forearm and drags you behind him, splaying you open at one of gallery's walls. His face is few inches away from you, his hot breath slamming your soft skin, searing like the one his dragon produces. Your own grows ragged. His violet eyes pouring into yours. Glowing amethysts clashing with scalding emeralds.

“I did not take you with me, because if I did, you going with me into exile would have condemned the entirety of your house as well.” His tone is calm. However, the fires within his eyes tell you otherwise. “And who ever dared to hurt you in my absence, I shall gouge their tongues myself.”

A shudder sweeps over your body, you know your dragon is true to his words. However, that will come later. “But I'm your wife, Daemon.” You murmur breathlessly, “The one you fought the world for, or do you not remember?”

Your husband grins wickedly, “Of course I remember.” He tugs a strand of your golden hair behind your ear, “Do you think I shared interests with Lord Corlys only for the sheer lust for victory and to taunt my kingly brother?”

“Wouldn't put it past you.” You say in whisper, “You did it to win your post in your brother's court back.”

Daemon chuckles, “Can't deny I did.” His slender fingers twirl a tress of your hair, “Nevertheless, it came clear to me, after four years in exile, three of them at war, that there is no victory can compete with the one I've achieved of having you.”

A crimson hue smudges your face, and your prince pops your nose playfully. “Ah, here she is, my good kitten.”

Kitten, is the pet name he's given you when you show hints of your more submissive side, that only him gets to see it. The wild lioness that everyone is intimated by turns into putty in the prince's hand. Her resonant roars turn into delicious mewls when the dragon coaxes the worst out of her.

His hand is warm against your cheek when he cups your pretty face. He roams your body up and down with his eyes. You're wearing a sleeveless dress, made of green velvet. The fabric was a present from him. The colour brings out the green of your eyes, and the golden embroidery patterns accentuate the gold of your mane. You lean into his touch, and his hand grazes up to your mane, grabbing it a tad to make more available skin for him to feast on.

You whimper weakly, your body is already raging with need; four years deprived of this... of him. You never imagined you'd have to go celibate after you married Daemon, he always had you in his bed, fucking you almost every night, teaching you the arts of love and carnality in his sheets, the ways of hedonism you never thought of before. He pleased you and taught you how to please him. And you did so eagerly.

His hands touch your bare arms, pressing your hands and bringing them up to his lips, kissing each knuckle and fingertip of yours. You giggle and he grins. Daemon dips again and trails a line of open-mouthed kisses on your neck, jaw, and chin. He decides to look at your eyes before he presses his lips against yours. Your breathing is heaving, your eye are half-lidded, and before you know it, his lips are on yours. Hungry, lustful, and burning. Daemon grasps your shoulders as his lips crushing against yours, growling desperately in your mouth. Then his hands drop to your skirts, you help him lifting them up, and shuffling your undergarments down.

“Gods,” He hisses as he slips a finger inside of you. “You're as tight as you were at our wedding night.”

“Daemon, please...” You moan when you feel his thumb brushing your clit. “Please...”

“How cruel of me,” He remarks, a hint of mockery tinting his voice, “Leaving my wife unfulfilled and unsatisfied.”

You slap his chest playfully, “For four years you fucking twat.”

He grips on your hair again, with a bit more force this time, “That's no way to talk to your prince, my lady.” He kisses your lips again.

You laugh between the kisses, “And that was no way to treat your lady wife, my prince.” He groans in irritation, “Your lioness became hopeless to the point of considering returning to her original den, Casterly Rock.”

Daemon freezes, “What?”

“See, husband?” You sassed, “If you had been a little more late, you wouldn't have found me here.”

He grumbles, “Then I would have mounted my dragon and come to you, darling, and nothing could've stopped me from taking you again like I did first time.” He turns you around, your breasts pressing against the cold wall.

“Oh, shall I test the waters, my prince?” Your eyes squeeze shut as his fingers hit that delicious spot of you. He hasn't forgotten.

“Do not tempt the dragon, darling,” He snarls next to your ear, “You'll only get burned.”

“I've taken much more harder things, Daemon.” Your chuckle is interjected by moans.

“You're taking much more today.”

He continues to touch you, to ease your skin, with his lips and hands. His fingers coax your insides untill you're begging for his cock. He knows exactly where to touch you, earning your submission once again.

He clasps your hands, your fingers interlocking, as he thrusts deeply into you. All wet and warm for him. You gasp, your body craving for more. And Daemon knows, from the way your walls are sucking him up greedily and eagerly. His tip kissing your cervix each time he snaps his hips. You spin around and cling to him in desperation; your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist.

“Ah... ah... Daemon...” Your head snaps backwards, and his lips are on your neck. “Give it to me please, husband, please!”

Daemon doesn't stop untill he gives you both, his and your high. And he fucks his seeds through your pleasure. In hope of a child will be born nine moons from now. You quiver, tears streaming down your cheeks. Your hands clawing at his back, and you bury your face into his neck. You don't wish him to see you crying. Daemon does indeed relish in watching you submit to him, but he never is fond of weaklings.

But Daemon senses the shake of your chest and sees the shinning beads on your face.

“What is it darling?” He tugs your hair away from your forehead, cradling your face in both hands, “Speak to me, love...”

“Never leave again.” Your words came out hushed, fragile.

“I never will.”

[f10werfae]

Welcome to @f10werfae's library of Chris Evans💫 Enjoy your stay!

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Here is my main masterlist for everyone else I write for♥️

[🌟]Favourites (over 500 notes)

[☁️] Fluff

[*] Smut

[🌧] Angst

- To request, please send in an ask or PM me ✨

Taglist form:

Chris Evans Masterlist Starts here💫

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

➼ boutique-for-the-best [☁️]🌟

(Chris Evans X Fashion Designer! Reader)

:Chris and Y/n the perfect example of the term 'made for each other' especially when in comes to support

➼ A Week In The Life Of The Evans[☁️]

(Husband!Chris Evans x Gothic! Reader)

: Y/n and Chris show off their new marriage, the only way they know how, via youtube

↪️Part two: Crybaby [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Dad!Chris x Gothic!Mom!Reader)

: Looks like that pregnancy test in the vlog meant something, and sprouted into the cute and loving mini evans, Alice. Follow the adventures of their cute family with quite the image.

➼ Written on Polaroids [☁️*]

(Husband!Chris Evans x Plus Size Reader)

: Y/n's secret diary gets exposed in the best way possible, which may involve a few camera shots

➼ Designer Love [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Chris Evans x Pregnant!Reader)

: Y/n can’t find any darn clothes she loves, so Chris takes his role to the next level

➼ Hairy Shenanigans [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Chris Evans x Pregnant!Reader)

: Y/n needs some help with her shaving capabilities and her husband is more than willing to help out

➼ Hottie By The Bar [☁️/Slight *]

(Chris Evans x Reader)

: Y/n catches the eye of a familiar man by the bar, which can only end in her favour

➼ The Winner [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Chris Evans x Famous!Reader)

: Chris is Y/n’s number one fan, there’s no doubt about it

➼ Wisdom Teeth [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Chris Evans x Wife!Reader)

: Chris sends Y/n on one hell of a journey

➼ That Puppy Smell [☁️]🌟

(Boyfriend!Chris Evans x Reader)

:Reader takes Chris Evans to a Puppy cafe

➼ What Is Victoria's Secret Anyway [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Chris Evans x Model!Reader)

: When Y/n gets a massive career opportunity, all she wants is her husband’s support, and she always gets what she wants

➼ You'll Always Be My Girl [☁️/Slight🌧]🌟

(Chris Evans x Reader)

: Y/n’s relatives are anything but supportive, on the other hand we have Chris who is absolutely smitten and will do anything to make sure Y/n knows

➼ Girls' Holiday [☁️/Slight *]🌟

(Husband!Chris Evans x Wife!Reader)

: Y/n and her friends get a few visitors while on their annual girl’s holiday

➼ Enchanted To Meet You [☁️]

(Chris Evans x Reader)

: Y/n Recalls her best memories with Chris, while getting ready for their wedding day ♥️

➼ Love In Translation [☁️]

(Chris Evans x Filipino!Reader)

: Chris is determined to become fluent in Tagalog, for the sweetest reasons

➼ My Spoilt Girl [☁️]🌟

(Rich CEO!Chris Evans x Reader)

: Chris loves spending money on his girl, even if it means he’ll end up spending more in future

➼ I’m Only Yours [☁️/Slight🌧]🌟

(Chris Evans x Reader)

: Chris and Y/n overcome insecurities in their relationship with some tender loving care

➼ My Happily Ever After [☁️]🌟

(Chris Evans x Reader)

: Chris, his family and Y/n spend the day at Disneyland. Chris of course, uses this opportunity to show how much he loves Y/n, in the most adorable ways possible

➼ I Need You More [☁️/Slight🌧]

(CEO!Chris Evans x Nurse!Reader)

: A CEO gets admitted into hospital with mild amnesia, only to find himself falling in love with the only person that can heal him

➼ Magical Kisses [☁️]

(Chris Evans x Stunt Double!Reader)

: Y/n injures herself on set, just to find out a cast isn’t the only thing healing her pain

➼ Ghostly [☁️/🌧]

(Ghost!Soulmate!Chris Evans X Alive!Reader)

: Y/n has an extremely tiring day, but with her ghost boyfriend everything takes a turn for the better

➼ Back Home [☁️]

(Boyfriend!Chris Evans x Filipino!Reader)

: An island getaway leads to Chris meeting Y/n's family, and him finding a new family of his own. Very fluffy domestic settings

↺ Part 2 Where Y/n meets Chris' Family

My Home [☁️]

➼ Shag Me [☁️]

(Husband!Chris Evans x British Singer!Reader)

:Despite being together for so long, Y/n and Chris still need to overcome their “language barrier”

➼ Baby It’s Breaking News[☁️]

(Husband!Chris Evans x Kardashian Reader)

: After keeping their life for the most part quiet, Y/n and Chris agree to give a statement to the Hollywood press (Article Style with an interview)

➼ Coffee Run[☁️]

(Chris Evans x Nurse!Reader)

: Nurse reader who works part time at a coffee shop has more than one run in with Chris and babies

➼ I Am Groot [☁️]

(Husband!Chris Evans x Pregnant!Reader)

: With hormones at an all time high, Chris has to be prepared even in the most funniest scenarios, obviously leading to kisses and cuddles + a smidge of horniness

➼ The Build Up [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Construction!Chris x Wife!Reader)

: Nothing better than an onsite visite by the Mrs, major domestic Chris! and fluff

↺ Part 2: The Build Up Pt2🌟

: Y/n and Chris retell the start of their love story to the boys, major domestic house fluff! Major dilf Chris

➼ Doggy Booth [☁️]

(Chris Evans x Reader)

: Chris and Y/n play around with tiktok features, obviously with Dodger

➼ Kittens, Kisses and Nails [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Chris Evans x Shy!Wife!Reader)

: Chris can never say no to his darling wife, she has him wrapped around her newly manicured fingers

➼ The Boudoir Book [☁️] !DRABBLE!🌟

(Husband!Chris x Wife!Reader)

: Y/n decides to create a boudoir book for her husband, and waits to see his reaction

➼ Dodger's Reveal [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Dad!Chris x Pregnant!Mom!Reader)

: Some lucky gender reveal doesn’t go according to plan, well traditionally anyway, all thanks to Dodger

➼ Blinded By Lust [🌧]

(Chris Evans x Blind!Reader)

: Y/n can’t help but blame herself when Chris looks for an outlook elsewhere

PT2: Eyes Wide Open [☁️🌧️]

➼ Chris Evans Pregnancy Scenarios (☁️/Slight Angst and Smut🌟

(Chris Evans x Pregnant!Reader)

=Not a series, just a compilation

Chapter 1,Chapter 2,Chapter 3,Chapter 4

➼ Chris Evans Dad Scenarios (☁️/Slight Angst and Smut)🌟

(Dad!Chris Evans x Mom!Reader)

=Not a series, just a compilation

Chapter 1,Chapter 2,Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

➼ Mr Evans and Dodger [☁️]

(Chris Evans x Vet!Reader)

:Chris falls for his new Dog Groomer, Henry Cavill's cousin

➼ Sugar Baby Love [☁️/*]🌟

(Rich!Ceo!Chris x reader)

: Finally getting their relationship sorted out leads to a hot night filled with passionate lovemaking, !Dad!Chris at the end?! Major family man vibes xoxo !Fluffy smut!

➼ Daddy’s a Builder [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Construction!Chris x Wife!Mom!Reader)

: When the kids want a treehouse? Chris comes to the rescue. When the kids want lunch? Oh that’s momma’s specialty ‼️Southern Dilf Chris Fluff‼️

➼ Hot Tubs and Bubs [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Chris x Wife!Reader)

:Y/n makes it up to Chris with a bit of a pampering session, with just the two of them (or so she hopes)

➼ Heartful not a Handful [☁️]

(Husband!Dad!Chris x Actress!Wife!Reader)

: Chris and Y/n prove how strong their love for each other is, how they can overcome any and everything

➼ I’m here [☁️🌧]

(Chris Evans x Sisterlike reader)

:Chris is there for Y/n when people continuously try to bring her down

➼ All Pretty and All Mine [☁️*]🌟

(Bf!Chris x GF!Reader)

:Y/n ans Chris celebrate their one year anniversary with a bit of lace and love

➼ Small Big Big Lovin [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Chris X Short!reader)

: Fans retell the best part of Chris and Y/n's relationship

> HC 🌟:pt2 of ‘Small Big Big Lovin’

: Chris and reader call the triplets little ducks/ducklings because of Scrooge McDuck (the Disney character) and his little ducklings

>> A Halloween for Three

>>> Oops, Sorry Daddy🌟

>>>> An Extra Nipple please🌟

>>>>> What Binky Fairy?🌟

>>>>>> Teething Triplets

➼ Mermaid’s Tale (DRABBLE) [☁️]

(Husband!Chris x Wife!Reader)

: Y/n has another one of her schemes underway, one which may include a scaly tale and a surprised Chris

➼ Cookie Monster [☁️]🌟

(Husband!Chris x Pregnant!Wife!Reader)

:Chris provides a wall of support for his cookie stealing wife

➼ Just like Daddy [☁️/*]🌟

(CEO!Husband!Chris x Mom!Reader)

: With Halloween's arrival, there’s nothing but festive cheers at the Evan's household, with a few surprises too! ‼️Major Dilf and family man Chris‼️

➼ My Wife, My Love [☁️/*] 🌟

(Construction!BF!Chris x GF!Reader)

: with y/n taking a new job across town, her hunk of a man pays her a steamy visit, and big decisions are made

➼ Bedazzled and Bewildered [☁️]🌟

(Chris Evans! x Fiancé!Shy!Reader)

: Y/n is supposed to be celebrating one of her major stepping stones but that seems to be far from her friends’ intentions. Thankfully Chris always knows what to do

➼ Mischievous Monkey [☁️]🌟

(Dad!Chris Evans x Mom!Reader)

: After a routine family nap, a certain little Evans gets up to harmless no good deeds

➼ Shorty McLovin [☁️*]🌟

(Chris Evans x Short!Hairstylist!Reader)

: Chris and Y/n can't keep their hands off each other

➼ Flashed a Tit [☁️/slight*]🌟

(Chris Evans x Pregnant!Reader)

: Y/n finds a way to win over an argument with Chris, with the help of her tits ‼️Spicy fluff‼️

➼ Home CHRIStening [☁️*]🌟

(Construction!Chris x GF!Reader)

: Chris and Y/n take a new approach to a house blessing

➼ The Summer I met you [☁️]🌟

(Chris Evans x Shy!Reader)

: Chris meets Shy Reader. The reader is traveling with girlfriends and is mostly ignored and turned on. Such as eating less or talking more. Chris can’t look at it more and goes there and says that the reader is beautiful

➼ That ass though [☁️*]🌟

(Husband!Chris Evans x Short!Wife!Mom!Reader)

: Y/n is on another one of her missions of teasing Chris, everyone knows he’s an ass man, but who knew leggings had so much power?

➼ Daddy Duties [☁️*]🌟

(Fiancé!Chris Evans x Pregnant!Reader)

: Y/n can’t sleep, and Chris has the most plausible solution. Some playtime comes with Daddy Duties, Chris’ duties

➼ Bunny, all warm n’ fuzzy [☁️*]🌟

(BF!Chris Evans x GF!Short!Reader)

: chris evans x short! reader +breeding + daddy kink+ overstimulation/smut where they are having sex but are trying new positions because some can get uncomfortable due to how short the reader is compared to Chris

➼ Act Like A Mother [☁️/🌧️]🌟

(Dad!Husb!Chris x Wife!Mom!Reader)

: Chris is stressed and reader has been taking care of the kids then one day she’s maybe cooking, just far away from the kids and one of them maybe falls and hurts themselves and Chris criticizes readers mothering skills

➼ Protector, Mine [☁️/🌧️]🌟

(BF!Chris x GF!Reader)

: Hi! If you take requests can you write one where reader is home alone when there’s a break in while Chris is out with friends?

➼ My Little Peach [☁️*]

(BF!Chris Evans x Short!Reader)

: Chris Evans bringing his short sized girlfriend! Reader to the park for their date. They are having lots of fun and Chris is in the "mood". Pantie vibrator, ass touching, pussy clenching and naughty whispers

➼ Bikini Bottom [☁️]🌟

(Frat!Chris Evans x Girlfriend!Reader)

: Frat!Chris falls lovesick and clings onto his girl for dear life, it doesn’t help when she’s parading around in a bikini. Overall, Y/n and Chris are the ultimate campus couple 💌 (lovesick puppy chris)

➼ Pretty Boy [☁️]

(Frat!Chris Evans x Girlfriend!Reader)

: Chris can’t help but drop everything to go see his precious princess, even if it means ditching his frat parties in the process. Once again taking the role of a lovesick puppy,

➼ First Argument or not [☁️]

(Frat!Chris Evans x Girlfriend!Reader)

: Their first argument, which really isn’t an argument, but it’s the closest thing these lovebirds will ever get to it because they’re so damn in love and can’t stay mad at each other♥️😭

>> HC! Frat!Chris

➼ Breast Present ever [☁️*]

(Dad!Construction!Chris x Preg!Mom!Reader)

: Despite being parents, Y/n pulls a naughty trick on her husband by appearing under the tree, naked. + Chris her husband makes a second impression on the father-in-law

➼ Ice Pop Baby [☁️/slight*]

(Sugar Daddy!Chris Evans x Pregnant!Reader)

: Being pregnant in summer sucks, but being pregnant in summer with Chris Evans, doesn’t suck as much

➼ Make Me a Daddy [☁️*]

(Teacher!Chris x Busty!Single!Mom!Reader)

: One parent’s meeting turns into a raging breeding session, as Y/n meets her son’s teacher for the first time, making him a daddy is first priority

➼ Pillowy Thighs [☁️*]

(Husband!Chris Evans x Plus size!Wife!Reader)

: Y/n feels insecure watching all the other girls in the club, so Chris shows his wife why he loves watching her body move

➼ Daddy’s Pudge [☁️*]

(Construction!Chris x Wife!Pregnant!Reader)

: With Chris sporting more of a dad bod, Y/n gives him a little pick me up to show how sexy her baby daddy really is. (EmotionallySoft!Chris) (Dilf!Chris)

➼ Baby Name List [☁️*]

(Cowboy!Chris x Girlfriend!Reader)

: Chris finds out about Y/n’s baby name list, and wants to put some of them to good use ASAP (girlboss!reader) (emotional Chris)

➼Pretty Boy n' his Pretty Peach [☁️*] (Frat!Chris Evans x Girlfriend!Reader) :A valentines celebration turns into a lovemaking fuck fest, with a lot of love, emotions and promises (Soft!Chris)(Fluffy aftercare)

Affair with his Assistant !Drabble![🌧]

(Husband!Andy Barber x Wife!Reader)

: Looks like Andy's work trips with his assistant were just him acting with his dick and not his head. Now his marriage is over

Guilty Pleasures [🌧️*]

(Dark!Married!Andy x Sister-in-law Reader)

: Sometimes getting the things we want, can be the best form of revenge, it’s even better when it ends in our favour (Cheating Andy and Laurie so it’s even😀)

➼ One Month Fill Up [☁️*]🌟

(Husband!Ari Levinson x Wife!Reader)

: Ari leaves Y/n one hell of a going away present, one that leaves her stuffed to say the least, after-all it’s just one more month he needs

➼ Overstimulation [☁️*]🌟

(Husband!Ari x Wife!Reader)

: imagine overstim w ari and like borderline dub-con. you’re begging for him slow down and that u can’t take anymore but he keeps on going. he goes harder and whispers sweet nothings in your ear

➼ Eyes Wide Open [☁️/🌧️]

(Ari x GF!Reader/Ex!Chris)

: After Chris cheated on Y/n, she falls into the arms of the local grumpy beefy mechanic, her new man Ari Levinson

➼ Sleepy Sex Session [☁️*]

(Ari Levinson x Girlfriend!Reader)

: slow, lazy sex with Ari, both lying in bed either late at night or really early in the morning. full of love and just something sweet

➼ Child Bearing Hip Dips [☁️*]

(Professor!Ari Levinson x College!Student!Reader)

: Ari overhears his babygirl's conversation with her friends, he teaches her another lesson, why he loves her love handles. (DILF!Ari) (Dom!Ari)

➼ The Breeding Ground [☁️*]

(Alpha!Ari Levinson × Omega!Pregnant!Reader)

: To others, Ari's house was a breeding ground for him and his omega, but to him it was just fulfilling her purpose of carrying his pups (DILF!Ari) (Slightly manipulative

➼ Pillow Humping Princess [☁️*]

(Ari Levinson x Bimbo!Reader)

: Ari catches his sweet baby humping her own pillow, just how far is he willing to ruin her innocence? With him using her pillow right in front of her to teach her a lesson. (mean!Ari) (Dom!ari) (Reader is jealous over a pillow)

pt2- ➼ Sleepy Humping Princess [☁️*]

(Ari Levinson x Bimbo!Reader)

:Beefy!Ari comes home to fuck his bimbo baby awake, hopefully knocking her up in the process.He loves coming home to that naked lump under his bedsheets (Beefy!Ari) (Somnophilia)

➼ Smokin’ Hot Husband [☁️🌧️]

(pairing: Dad!Husband!Ransom Drysdale x Pregnant!Wife!Reader)

: Y/n catches her eldest son smoking, and with her being very emotional, it’s up to Ransom to save the day

➼ Bimbo Babe [☁️*]

(Steve Rogers × Bimbo!Reader)

: Y/n stupidly keeps shoving her tits and pussy into Steve's face until he finally has enough and has to have them smothering his face (Dom!Steve) (MeanSteve)

[thelonelyme]

♡ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴅᴏʀᴍ ʟᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ [ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴs/sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ] 2♡

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𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞: ディズニー ツイステッドワンダーランド[Twisted Wonderland]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐨/𝐢: Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia.

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: The yanderes finds out mc is now a fallen angel due to them.

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Hello honey, this is my first time asking you but please listen to me.. What do you think the reaction of the yandere house leader's reaction to their lover who is an angel has now fallen and become a demon's. especially the reason why they become a fallen angel is because they want to continue to be with the leaders of the dormitory even though their God forbids them, and to the point of plucking out their wings. Pretty pleaseee 🥺🥺

𝐀𝐕𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐄: GN READER. That's the second part of this post, so if you want to read about the whole dorm crew, make sure that you've read that. There will be explicit scenes of poisoning, blasphemy, allusions to rape, implied murder, delusional behavior, mention of not-voluntary imprisonment, allusions to NS/FW themes, kidnapping, explicit stalking, cyberstalking, mention of blackmail, mention of torture, mention of imprisonment. Sorry everyone for the prolonged time of inactivity, I did not feel good, and moreover I had for a period lost the motivation to do anything, so sorry again. I’ll try to bring my life back to order, so update more often. I hope you like it, honey💗. I don’t have the responsibility of who reads such my works, however good reading <;3.

-𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐦 𝐀𝐥-𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐦-

For such a solar and enthusiastic magician as Kalim, your arrival at Night Raven College could not have been described in other words other than a literal blessing from God. The young student and dormitory chief of Scarabia had always been considered the exception to the college rule: in contrast to violent and petty behavior like those of Savanaclaw, or like those shy and manipulative as apparently almost all the students of Ignihyde, possessed a natural kindness and genuine concern for others; something that many times had made him get into some trouble.

He seemed like the perfect candidate for the famous college in the south of the island, with a young and fresh look like his and with a behavior worthy of the best prince straight out of a fairy tale, Many students in his dorm couldn’t and still haven’t been able to understand, how he ended up in a place famous for cruelty and for the rigor in training his students in the best possible way.

But Kalim could not have cared less, after all education is education, no matter whether in one apparently better school or another, and not understanding the reason for such a tense rivalry between the two schools.

So, during the upcoming Christmas holidays, he never expected to find himself in front of a literal angel. The first time he saw you, he would immediately be enchanted by your figure accompanied by two boys in the hallway. At that moment, he could literally drop all the books he had in his hand that Jamil was asking for and immediately run in your direction, as if he were a magnet and you were the magnet of his heart.

As in the fairy tales that by now Jamil had been forced to mark in his memory how many times he had to repeat them to the silver-haired and scarlet-eyed magician, that feeling of complete stiffness and a warm feeling in the heart that made him warm up in ways that no one had ever managed to do, the acceleration of his beat in a few seconds from your sight and a priminente redness on his cheeks- he was certain that he’d just seen his one true soul mate.

He had waited years and years to find the person who would be by his side all his life, and you finally showed yourself to him! Just as his parents had always told him, as he had always dreamed from an early age! You can’t blame her excitement and all her heat the moment you felt a pair of calloused hands on your shoulders.

"I’m touching them! And I can feel how soft their skin is even from over this uniform! I swear, I’m going to die of joy!"

He hoped that his heart would not keep beating so hard all the time, otherwise you would surely be frightened, and he did not want to cause you any kind of pain.

He was sure, and the brilliant and kind smile you gave him was only helpful in confirming it: You were certainly his soul mate.

From that day on, things would change dramatically: now all his attentions and his whole routine revolved around you, with his one and only Habibi ¹.

He could not help it, by now your presence was simply essential for him to function normally; basically for him you were like oxygen for a drowned, fresh water for a thirsty in the desert, abundant food to a hungry, you were a drug. Just being yourself with him had somehow made him feel like the only person with whom, according to him, you would share all those hugs and words of encouragement late at night on the large balcony of the castle in Scarabia.

Your magnificent and splendid body would only be the icing on the cake, for him you would have been perfect in any way you could have been. What brought him even closer to you had been your magnificent personality, so kind and comforting, so good and perfect from any kind of external or internal point of view.

He could not live without him with you, he had developed an addiction to your sweet caresses and your words so reassuring that they never failed to make him burst into tears for the ardent and genuine love that simple words positioned in the right way contained.

He could not help but imagine you together with your future children, biological or adopted, playing with them while gently stroking your head and watching with dreamy eyes your beautiful features. You would have both worn dresses worthy of a fabulous and fantasic person like yourself, traditional clothes of the Land of Hot Sands, dancing together dances in the center of the huge ballroom of the family villa during your future wedding. He already had in mind the perfect wedding for both you and him, even though he couldn’t bear less than what the main colors or how the flowers should have been arranged until he was with you. But he would do it with immense pleasure and joy knowing that everything would be for you and only for you.

He had already written tons of letters over the past months to his parents where he described your love for each other in the most disparate and romantic ways, even to the point of convincing and constantly writing them that soon you two would really get married, which the two were extremely happy about, and get them to send as many letters to convince Kalim to bring them home during the summer holidays.

For the next few months, Kalim was literally clinging to you, or continuing to praise you incessantly during every single moment of the day where unfortunately he could not be with you, and forcing the strict and diligent Vice Dorm Leader Jamil to endure hours and hours at night of awkward words and thoughts from the red-eyed boy, and ordering the latter to reassure him on his growing concerns. His need for you had become morbid, leading him to increasingly monopolize your blessed time along with him and Jamil, who obviously would have taken advantage of it in the best possible ways.

"Jamil, tell me they’ll never leave me."

"Jamil, they always say they’re happy to have lunch with me, but then why do they have lunch with others?"

"Jamil, do you think I should send them more presents? Maybe this way they’ll realize I’ll never get tired of them."

"Jamil, which chains do you think are better, the silver ones or the gold ones? I sincerely prefer the gold ones, but please choose! You always do a great job at these things, and as you know, I’m not very good at making decisions, hehe."

Unlike the imaginary world that Kalim had built in his mind, his ebony-haired servant would instead have seen beyond those walls with which the blood-red-eyed boy had long since begun to dodge all kinds of normal reasoning. He had seen all that time your face slightly frightened and surprised by the huge amount of gifts that Kalim had daily sent from home just for you, he didn’t lose how your presence had become a fixed point in his day. About how now he should not only look after the needs of the white-haired boy, but now also your own under the orders of his master.

"Remember Jamil, every wish of my Habibi must be fulfilled immediately, okay?"

And of course he always did, noting in the meantime how your simple word could change any previous opinion of Kalim.

"I think that’s a kind of fruit a little bitter, I didn’t remember it so-What? You don’t like it so much? True, not even me, actually."

Surely he would have noticed this, causing him to cling more and more to you, telling him that he had to spend all his time with you and instead leaving the duties of dorm head to him, something the silver-haired boy was extremely willing to do: all for her beloved and adored Habibi.

The ebony-haired servant would remain silent, as he had always done since his childhood, continuing to pull the strings of this little theatre so that he would finally have a real place in society; he did not care at all about your ever-increasing looks at him, or how he would always try to get the sticky kid to go away, but this would just reset everything he had done and built in the last few months in the dorm, reborn under a new regulation and under a new rigor rediscovered.

If he stopped you meeting with Kalim, everything would be erased, so you could definitely suffer a little longer before you left.

But Kalim wasn’t a complete fool, and he knew it.

He knew and saw the way he was subtly threatening you by threatening to spread disgusting rumors about you, about you not being such a pure, chaste angel, about all sorts of things that would bring you down at the slightest exit without him. He knew what power was, and he wasn’t below using it to hold you to him, not after what happened with Jamil before.

If you had refused or even hinted at a possible breakup of your relationship, the first reaction it could have had is to immediately throw yourself at your feet, tightly grabbing the fabric of your school uniform and crying, begging in sobs and wondering if it was his mistake, he swears he’ll make it up to you!

And if I kept trying to avoid him gently, since you’re such a nice person that you didn’t immediately kick him out of your life, it would have to come down to the ways he absolutely didn’t like to use. Usually his conflicts were not even resolved by himself, but this was neither a conflict nor a problem- don’t misunderstand, he still thinks that there were problems in the relationship because of your ever-increasing thoughts of wanting to leave, but he thinks there are problems for a completely wrong reason, which he swears on his own life and on those of his whole family never to repeat again.

He would never want to get to do this- after all he wants the person he will marry in the future to have a good reputation and be loved by everyone- so this move will be used as a last resort in case of failure of any previous attempt to make you stay with him.

He knew that Jamil was not one of the most sociable and transparent people you could ever meet, but he knew that he would never do something as petty as hypnotizing him again- and he was sure! He could remember every single moment of his days, unllike of when he had whole lapses of memory scattered throughout the days. And then he was helping him with his relationship, so he was certain that he could trust his and your life in his skilled hands.

And it hasn’t been that long since you last saw the bright sunlight, at least not in person.

He knew that every beautiful dove must fly, so he compensated for the time you normally spent in the luxurious rooms of his castle in the Land of Warm Sands riding with you on his magic carpet. But not before you have sealed your wings with a beautiful padlock and gold chains: after all, white and gold were such beautiful colors together. After all, as kindness had put Kalim in some trouble, and in a world like the human one, yours has put you in far worse trouble than you could have ever imagined.

You were enchanted by the mesmerizing eyes of the beautiful snake that, slowly and patiently, while you remained staring at the blinding vermilion, wrapped like a powerful and heavy gold chain tightly to your body. Making you immobilized by your own mistake, and remaining forever enchanted by the red gems that the young man possessed, those same irises that had been your end.

-𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭-

Vil Schoenheit, head of the dormitory of the ancient Pomefiore, a very famous actor with an unnatural beauty and rigor, would never have thought he could fall so low for a simple person. The blond-haired perfectionist so focused and so devoted to achieving the perfection of himself and everyone in whom he could see potential, could not help but describe you as the exact opposite of what he would have considered his perfect soulmate: although you too could also have had a strong potential like that first year Epel, but, from what he’s always seen, you haven’t even tried to achieve the best version of yourself.

Like the scarlet-haired dorm boss or the smart silver-haired octomerman, he wouldn’t even have time to even know what you look like.

At least, before he heard about you.

With his increasingly emerging figure in entertainment and fashion, with his excellent school career to keep such, his relentless search for beauty and the burning desire for revenge on that useless being who had always stolen all the spotlight, he had a very narrow daily schedule. And the fact that he had to manage a dormitory full of people who still had to see that beauty and charisma were an immense and unique source of power, did not help at all the coverage of his imminent dark circles.

At first, and as I said before, he wouldn’t even want to know who you were. But the quick tongues of all these dirty hicks he had to endure in school, would let slip away in the luxurious dormitory room that in his school there was a particular little student who had the reputation of being the most beautiful in the entire realm of Twisted Wonderland.

Even more than Neige.

It wasn’t enough just that stupid idiot with a rosy face to put a spoke in the wheel, now there was also a third person against whom he had to win?!

He couldn't believe it.

He did not want to believe that a simple person like you could be considered by all even more beautiful than him and that idiot without even making an effort, while he had to work hard to get to the point where he was now.

He was jealous, he just wanted to be the one adored by everyone for once: not Neige, not you, just him.

He knew what it felt like to be one of the most beautiful of all, but he didn’t want to stop there. No, he wanted to be the one and only to hold the power of eternal beauty, he wanted to ruin your smiley faces to death so that you two couldn’t even get outside without you being labeled as deformed monsters, he wanted to destroy your lives, he wanted to eliminate you two.

But Vil was not such a reckless and incautious man, he already had a plan in mind, and now he just needed to add a few more details thanks to your arrival. He would have called his trusty hunter, and he, being a good subject as he was, had immediately satisfied the bizarre requests of the poisonus man.

A little setback, this was you in his eyes. Like everyone he had to compete with to get to the top, he just had to make sure that you didn’t get a chance to be better than him.

But your presence irritated him so much, he hated so much how your eyes didn’t even have a hint of make-up but that they still turned out to be absolutely delicious for the blond-haired man as he continually struggled against the increasingly strong feelings of desirability he was developing towards you, he hated how he would always have to pay attention to his strict diet to stay online while you would try every cake that Trey would cook for any unnecessary parties in his dorm.

He hated how he could not stop watching you as you posed as the hardworking and always available person you were, thus bringing to your side a herd of rednecks and useless potatoes that were shamelessly hovering over you, using flimsy and shabby excuses just to get a speck of your attention, and leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as he turned abruptly and forced himself not to curse everyone with his Unique Magic.

And while the handsome man was slowly falling into the abyss of madness, his trusty Rook would notice every single look of Vil directed at you, a look of such primitive hunger and such magnificent and pure hatred, a poison so limpid and deadly that it made to praise even more this new love of his.

But unfortunately such a scruffy and tacky frown did nothing but ruin the beautiful features of the poisonous beauty, the expressions of anger that did not belong to him did nothing but position themselves on his immaculate face as soon as he saw the dirty hands of a student of Savanaclaw on your shoulders as he hugged you, while that disgusting being was clearly looking for more from you.

"Oh, that student, la beauté de cette école, quelqu'un qui possède une beauté d'un autre monde ² , but not so much to compete with our wonderful head of the dormitory in appearance" And throwing a mocking and nonchalant grin at the other man. That made the handsome man frown even more for the casual tone of the hunter in talking about you so freely.

"Yeah, whatever but when- Umh, I apologize Schoenheit-senpai, but when can I train for Magishift tryo-?"

"Rook, I need your services one more time."

"Oui."

"And Epel, keep practicing your etiquette, your manners and the way you speak are barbaric. Don't forget what I've told you."

And suddenly, all those nights spent studying for the various tests that until then had not weighed on your physical health, had done nothing but drain you of all your energy, making you feel completely grounded. You wouldn't be able to understand why these sudden changes, until that moment your routine had never given you any kind of problems, but Ace would have just swept it all away by saying that most likely it was you who were just stressed out and that finally all that workload was hitting you all at once.

And you, being such a responsible student, despite all the warnings of Jack and Epel to rest, would have continued to help Riddle with all the preparations of the VDC instead. You couldn’t help helping all those people who didn’t ask, but clearly needed help. Something that the man with lilac irises had noticed from the beginning.

And how can he not exploit to his advantage a situation so useful to his cause?

And working with the Heartslabyul's leader, he would subtly observe you several times under the guise of having to control the stage setup process for NRC’s biggest event himself.

Normally he would have hated all those people who would only take advantage of the opportunities on the fly, and in fact he still did, but he could not call this "opportunism", but a small incentive to help himself in his life. And by the way, it wasn’t like he’d never worked hard for the duration of his stressful life until- like everyone else except him had- so he was sure that instead of hurting you, he was just helping himself.

Clearly the effects of the presumed fatigue were making themselves felt and seen: the skin once so bright and seemingly shiny would instead become sicker and battered, your face harbored light dark circles and your body began to feel much weaker and exposed to any kind of bump; you felt sick, as if you had ingested something that made you feel extremely bad, as if someone was sucking your energy away. And these symptoms would go on for so long that not even your friends would let you walk alone for fear that you might stumble and hurt yourself. And the effects would, at some point, even cause the first of a series of fainting in front of the blond himself.

He almost felt sorry for seeing you so weak and hurt, but he couldn’t help but feel a sadistic pleasure in your pitiful sight. A student so perfect in all respects, so good, kind and charitable, so good to his classmates and so understanding, reduced to nothing but a weak body kept alive for an unknown reason. He chose you to be the guinea pig for his famous poisons.

After all, there was a reason his trusty hunter always called him by that nickname.

"My beloved Roi du Poison, you truly are the most beautiful and poisonous man that the entire Twisted Wonderland has ever seen!"

He liked that nickname in a way, as he also loved his talent and knowledge in potionology. He had tried to recreate to the letter the infamous "poison kiss", created and perfected no less than the so esteemed Evil Queen. But alas, some ingredients could not be collected and obtained at the time of need, so he had to improvise by mixing several ingredients, making it all turn out to be a deadly potion.

Or at least he thought.

It was rather peculiar that a poison created to kill had not yet borne fruit, causing him to rage silently as it rechecked every single process of the potion that had kindly handed you nothing less than your beloved best friend. Of course, at the beginning even the first year was strange and annoyed by the strange request to give you a basket full of red apples,

"Why do I even need to do this- that's so useless. Why me and not Hunt, he would've loved to do this for him. By the way, the ones of my family would be definitely better, the colour is too much bright, surely they're all too much soft and ew..", he thought many times during the day, but he had not asked questions to the handsome man.

Vil couldn’t help but start ordering Hunt to write down every kind of reaction you were going through, every kind of change, even if it was insignificant. But more importantly, to tell him everything that was slightly out of the ordinary that you did or said. It wasn't possible to resist that much to a deadly potion.

He couldn’t understand the way that even though you didn’t know that he was the cause of your ever-worsening ailments, you would continue to understand when to leave him alone and help him with his problems, try to understand his thoughts and continuing insistently to approach him, both emotionally and physically. He did not understand you.

How could you ever approach and help your executioner? He did not understand.

And, as always, Rook never failed to satisfy him, bringing him what he had asked for and more.

And then he finally had an answer that appealed to all of his questions that had been running through his mind until that moment. No one, not even that idiot in the other school, could have such sweet and supportive behavior as yours, despite the fact that you were literally falling apart because of the envy of another.

No one would have survived for so long a poison that would have assured death. You can't simply die. What kind of angel would ever get killed by a simple human? Lose your body for what?

"Apparently I do, Vil."

An even tougher challenge than training Epel? After all, he couldn’t call himself a dorm-leader if he couldn’t even get you turned into clay in his soft, soft hands, he wouldn’t have been him if he hadn’t finally helped you see that he was the key to your salvation.

Only he had the solution, only he could really help you in all that discomfort that you had. All alone, betrayed from what you thought your best friend. Left behind by all those who you thought were friends. Betrayed by your own god. You were only deceiving yourself.

After all, you should have known that man was made in their image.

He would continue to be convinced that he was only attracted to your potential beauty, even though he knew it was just a pathetic excuse to avoid hurting his ego by forcing you into his luxurious, comfortable bed, observing that day by day the potion had not had the desired effects, but that it was still powerful enough not to allow your body to regenerate normally, and consequently letting him do whatever he wants with your fragile and now mortal body. He could finally keep you in a crystal coffin where only he could see you, in a place that only he had permission to access, a place dedicated entirely to your wonderful being, a being that divided his reason from his instincts.

Thus leading him to force you to live a different kind of hell, one where Vil was constantly torn between loving you obsessively until his death, spoiling you with every kind of luxury and every kind of wealth you could ever desire, treat you as a true queen, not as a mere ordinary angel as you had been treated up to that moment, while the other side of you was divided by hatred of the one who had made him wither like a dead rose, making him constantly and incessantly think about your beautiful face once so soft and so shiny, and letting him finally realize what he really wanted from you.

You got too taken in by the juicy red color of the apple in the hand of the beautiful evil, and this time, laying down, you would finally have a bite of the queen’s venomous grip.

-𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝-

It is not a novelty that the blue-haired boy was an extremely shy and elusive person with self-isolative tendencies, who spent all his average days in a messy and gloomy room, and he never would have come out willingly if his little brother didn’t pull so much weight on this subject.

Idia Shroud, the descendant of the great God of the Underworld, a figure to follow and an inspiration to some, and terror and disgrace to others, had never aspired to a career as brilliant as his fellow dormitory chief, he simply did not feel the morbid need to be noticed and to receive so much attention from people, and even less, he did not feel the need to get even just in touch with a person outside his virtual bubble.

He absolutely did not see the advantages of having physical or "normal" relationships, and if there were, he was quite sure that the advantages were much less than the disadvantages he would suffer. By now he had resigned himself to being what he was and what each time he saw faintly on the screens: a useless rejection of society.

Someone who did not even have the courage to speak, even just to see, a real person in flesh and bones- someone who was just one face among a thousand in many forums he assiduously attended- almost maniacally- someone who could never carry on the surname of the noble Shroud family, hoping that the responsibility instead would go on to his younger brother that was definitely better suited to the task than someone who could not even leave his room without feeling weak and without energy.

"I already told you for the millionth time Ortho, I don’t want to go out at all, not even Hades himself could change my mind."

And when the news of the student without magic who had become prefect on the same day of their admission first arrived at Ignihyde’s dormitory, the handsome blue-haired male could not have cared less. He didn’t have a shred of curiosity about you, leading him to ignore his younger brother’s futile attempts to socialize with someone other than him. He was starting to worry about his older brother’s tendencies, and those concerns would come close to the limit of tolerable when he mistakenly read for once what he shared on those forums he was obsessed with.

And he knew that Idia meant every word he wrote, every word imbued with hatred of the world that was not good enough to accept him and to allow someone like him not to be targeted for his own interests.

Even if he had never been bullied, even if no one would have dared to touch a hair of him for fear that he might in return burn his finger with his flames. Ortho had been with Idia centuries and centuries before, and even there, his big brother had always had a tendency to hate being together with others, always isolating himself in his room in the family castle. But he thought he couldn’t abdicate beyond that. He knew that his brother had always suffered from extreme social anxiety, probably the cause of his problems, along with other disorders that interfered in establishing normal healthy relationships with real people.

Idia, on the other hand, saw no problem in his current life. He lived alone, in a room he didn’t need to leave, eating whatever food he wanted and being able to stay online for as long as he wanted. Maybe this was the only thing in his mind that he had control over, or maybe he had become so addicted to it that just walking out of the room would blind him for a moment.

But the fact is that he would never deign to see you, he did not need to see the annoying faces of his classmates, let alone the popular ones.

He would never meet them again, so it was useless for him to even try to make friends with someone who will inevitably forget you.

He thought it was pathetic.

He had no time for normal people, but instead he had too much time to spend on forums and games, always changing his interests and topics. And it would be right in those places that he would almost certainly meet you, named under a nice nickname that would spur him to talk to you. The male’s room was messy, smelly and completely in the dark except for the dim light of the blue screens, where Idia spent his time playing different games, talking occasionally and bitterly commenting on the stupid and senseless moves of his teammates. But he could not even finish the round before finding himself quickly reading the public chat, and then stopping to read the whole message.

The_Pref.ectme: "Hi, sorry if I’m sudden, but I don’t know this game well, and I need help. Sorry to disturb."

Obviously, a newbie like you wasn’t educated at all and didn’t even have a thousandth of his experience in that game, so he would have decided to mentor you for an evening, by writing quickly in the chat that he would call you on another platform and that there he would explain everything to you.

And when he first heard your voice, he could feel himself floating in the Olympus.

Your voice sounded so harmonious and so calm to his ears, so beautiful and so pure, as if a nymph was whispering softly in his ears, lulling him into a state of apparent trance, it almost melted his brain as calming as it could be.

He had never felt this way throughout his long life of isolation and loneliness, leading him to pant heavily at the first sign of another person even minimally attractive.

A sticky layer of sweat was all over his face, and the prominent redness on his face as you spoke and expressed your thoughts to him about how you found the game difficult, would have made him immediately change the microphone and abruptly interrupt the call and exhale a trembling sigh, almost trembling for the experience he had just had and making him take long and deep breaths to avoid melting the plastic of his chair with the warm flames of his hair.

In the meantime, and while the blue-haired man was biting his hand trying to suppress all kinds of noise and not alarm his younger brother, you would've continued to speak and speak, never imagining that he would've ended the call so abruptly.

A continuous and sudden knock on the dorm door would wake you from your worries about the the game, and welcoming kindly and as always a significantly tired Ace who had been kicked out by Riddle again for breaking another rule. And since Grim was soundly asleep in the main room, you would tell your bizarre adventure with this guy online.

"I don’t know, maybe he was a 50-year-old creep who just wanted to see you naked."

"I don’t think so, at first I could also hear a glimpse of his voice, and he looked like a boy!"

"Wait wait wait- a glimpse? Of his voice? Man, that's creepy as hell! And you.. spoke non stop?"

"Uh yes. But I don't think he's-"

"Nah, hell nah, If you ask me, I'd be creeped out. And didn't you think that he was... Being a pervert? Or something weirder? Maybe recording you! Oh seven, don't tell me it was a video call-"

"Ace, come on, be faithful."

"You have to be more careful on the Internet! I could never allow anything to happen to you, let alone Deuce."

"Don’t worry about me, Ace."

"And don’t so that again, okay?"

And for you it would have ended there, eventually deciding to sleep on it under the advice of one of your best friends.

But the same was not for Idia. At all. He’d spent the whole night imagining your mouth opening and closing only to produce those little words about useless things, the movements of your tongue so sensually moving to the palate, the vocal cords moving in the throat- and oh, that throat...

He kept thinking back to that exact moment when your words had entered his head for the first time, unable to do anything but begin to fantasize about how you might actually appear in real life and not covered and disguised by a beautiful avatar.

He wondered if you were tall or short, if you had short or long hair, what color it could be, and how you could be. He knew you’d never want someone so stupid like other idiotic people around you, but then again, he was just a dirty virgin who hadn’t showered in over two weeks doing nothing but sit in his room full of paper towels and energy drinks. He was a disgusting incel ³ that couldn’t even hope to have a beautiful person, like he knew you were, by his side.

This new fixation would have led him to look for every single clue to understand what your identity was, initially looking for any useful information about your game profile that you both were playing before, and then starting the actual process to see who you really were.

After all, what kind of student at Ignihyde would not know how to hack an account, especially one of such a naive person about the dangers of the internet? All those years spent studying programming would come in handy, which he had no doubt about.

He knew that in the end everything he had studied on his own would always come in handy: whether to ask someone for private information, or ruin another’s life, with a simple click and the right words, he could simply make another’s life a hell.

And after a short time, he had complete access to your computer, which had oddly not installed an antivirus or something to protect your device- it would've been a somewhat longer process, but in the end, he knew he would always succeed: the only thing he felt he could boast of was his almost infinite knowledge of technology, giving him the ego boost he needed to continue everything he was working on.

He had access to your search history, your daily logs, your downloads, your works, passwords, socials- and most importantly, your webcam and microphone.

Finally, finally finally finally finally finally finally- Finally!

He could finally know the face of the voice that accompanied him through his nights and days.

And when he saw you.. it was as if all the emotions he’d spent days stabilizing had suddenly returned.

His dead heart was pounding, as if he had a sudden attack of tachycardia, he felt himself suffocating with his own saliva, forgetting even for a few seconds how to swallow, and consequently dropping some saliva on his sweatshirt, the blush had returned, making him feel hot and scorching under the heat of his sweatshirt- and although normally his dorm was extremely cold, he continued to sweat profusely, his thin fingers were rigidly welded on the mouse, By clicking and zooming on every part of his body that was visible to him, his hair now threatening to melt his headphones.

"Oh- my- my- sev- en… oh- h-hah.."

The news of Idia’s interest in the prefect had been a shock to his younger brother, but also a huge relief. He finally met someone who wasn’t him! And he also fell in love! Years before, this huge change in the life of his niisan would have been nothing more than a mere image in his brain: a fantasy, an illusion, peraphs.

At a certain point he had even given up trying to reason with the man, and therefore he had lowered a bit the tentative to convince him to leave the dormitory. At least he could go out during night time, just something to make him go away from that smelly and disgusting room.

"NO-! I mean- what if someone wasn’t asleep and instead began filming me?! I- I don’t know! You understand!? What if someone even noticed my hair? NO."

So when you would hit not only the near-impossible interest of Idia, he believed it was fate. And that’s what Idia thought. It was repeated that your meeting had been planned in advance by the Fate, an omnipotent existence that ruled at will both human and gods.

No one could escape the Fate.

Not even the beautiful little angel you were.

He thanked the fact of having known you online and not in real life- also because there would be only one chance in a million that would have met you just when it was released for the first time in the last five or six months. But now all he could do was keep watching your every move from the camera that conveniently could spot you every time you walked in, making him find out as many things about you.

"Ah~ my little and tempting angel! I bet you would have liked to have such a devoted follower like me."

As the months went by, the adorable little Ortho would become a huge friend of yours, which his personality allowed him to do, starting with a casual conversation over lunch in the cafeteria, with the excuse of having to look for a volunteer to test a new machine, which, despite much concern expressed by none other than by your friends who were currently sitting at your same table, you had naturally and immediately agreed to do.Helping was your main mission, your only mission, and so helping a little boy like Ortho was enough on its own to fill your pure heart with joy, coming shortly afterwards into the gloomy dormitorium.

His brother lacked that ability to be with others, so Ortho would be the voice and body of Idia outside his room, and not wanting his nii-san to lose all happiness, that one glimmer and glimmer of a possible better future that you were carrying- He didn’t want to be the cause of his suffering.

Idia could not help but compare himself to the lonely and gloomy Hades, who for centuries remained because of an extremely favoritist society that had forced him to be what he had become. In the past he could only compare you to the wonderful Persephone. Now he understood his ancestor. Or maybe it was a family thing.

But in the end, his brother, a boy so kind that you would never be able to resist his constant prayers that you should visit him at least once in his dorm, always spent a lot of time alone, and all he wanted was to spend a little more time with his new best friend! Did you really want to leave him all alone in a place so isolated and full of people just as isolated? No? Perfect! Just follow him to Big Brother’s room and you can all have a big pijama party! Actually, do you want some pomegranate? They are produced by his family, so you can also binge on them!

And that tiny little grain.

A grain had been your sentence.

A mere grain of pomegranate would have been the invisible chains that would have kept you in the room of Idia, you should have remembered the immense jealousy and possessiveness of the god of the dead, you should have known of his obsession with his beloved little angel.

The light morbidly attracts the darkness.

And now you were bound to him forever like his Persephone. Until the end of time, governing together, one beside the other, in a world of death and silence, where a land of sinful and decrepit souls will be forced to obey you two without asking questions, and not letting you fly away in the world of humans.

Even for the god of the underworld this method had worked, so why shouldn’t it have been the same for him?

There was a very small chance that everything he did might end badly, but Idia didn’t care. He could have been discovered by the inhabitants of the island or by other students, but in the end he knew that you could never leave him in any way, and he enjoyed this. Even if he had disappeared, the bond between you would have remained unbreakable.

Don't you know how many times Persephone has tried to escape from that gloomy, old-fashioned prison? She even tried to kill herself.

But how can you die when you’re already in a dead world, and what’s more dead then a dead spirit like yours?

And you too, as she did, would have surrendered to the inevitable fate that had been forged only for the two of you. You would have been chained to a world where the dead speak, and where the living die, and where the red juice of the pomegranate would have continually stained the floors with crimson, dripping from your wounds and your mouth, sealing you forever with the fire of the underworld to him.

You were deceived by a soul, and soon you would have to pay a heavy toll. A soul for your freedom, throwing you into a whirlpool of familiar whispers and shadows, drowning in death with Idia.

-𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚-

Malleus Draconia, an extremely powerful wizard with powers still unknown to most students, an honorable student with excellent scholastic returns, a powerful young man who was destined for the throne , a boy who conveyed immediate anxiety to anyone who was in the same room with him, thus leading many people to associate his presence with something to avoid, a gloomy fae that for all those who saw it was a complete enigma, seemingly no solution, an extremely well-known individual, but who, fortunately or not, did not show around so often. And the students were grateful for that, they were constantly chatting and talking so much that they even forgot his presence in the school, some always avoiding to speak of him as if even his name was a taboo and others trying to neglect the whole by pretending it did not even exist. After all, those who mind their own business live for 100 years.

And for Malleus this was and will always be just ridiculous.

Why the hell would he even want to touch someone, let alone attack a student clairvoyant much weaker than him? He did not understand how those humans had come to conceptualize such a ridiculous and useless idea as those "beliefs" that had spread in the school since his arrival, he would never stoop to hurt anyone, and this made him more and more nervous, the rumors about him, as ninety percent of the students who met him ran away immediately with the queues between their legs.

"What a cowardly behavior. Truly miserable."

He resented the way his appearances did not reflect, as he thought, his real behavior, but he loved that respect that only he, only Malleus Draconia could have from all those who knew him directly or who had heard only false stories and stories about him, After all, he loved to see how the majority of the student body didn’t even look at him in his emerald eyes, for fear of what he could do to them.

But they wouldn’t have to worry, he repeated, he wouldn’t have done anything, even if he recognized that those fictionalized and false rumors had reality funds; he knew what he was capable of, and he was extremely proud of it, he knew a lot, too much, well the dragon that lay dormant within him, a beast that no one until that moment had managed to wonder except himself, and one that no one had ever awakened. Being close to a volcano is always safe, until it erupts, at least.

But again, these nocturnal behaviors around him only annoyed him more and more, he knew exactly what his classmates were doing.

Had he really been alone so long that now no one remembered? But it would not have been possible, he always heard the occasional whispers from the students of other dormitories, and moreover, he was the head of one of them, therefore, he had happily excluded this option, instead leaving him to bitterly process the other hypothesis.

Are they doing this on purpose? Whatever it is, it makes his blood boil with rage, but being stubborn as it was, it would have denied him immediately and fiercely, leading him to think that they were not necessarily avoiding him, but that they were just extremely forgetful. He was defending all of them by every means possible, and the least they could do to prevent half the castle from being suddenly struck by random lightning was at least to recognize his presence in the rooms.

"Shut up Zigvolt. I’m perfectly fine. Now, don't bother me. Ah, no, wait, take note of the fact that I’m gonna love it for a while, so you don’t have to wake up half the dorm screaming like you always do."

Obviously he had heard about you, the infamous and so much on everyone’s lips, even the silent and mysterious dorm mates, a spirit so free and so well-liked by everyone, so much so that he always had someone who would like to be with you. And Malleus at first couldn’t help but be slightly amused by all your "adventures" that every day you carried out with those other freshmen, including the controlling Sebek, who, in your presence did not scream in the slightest, and who was extremely delicate, giving the impression that if he had used even a pinch of his fae magic on you, you would have broken instantly like porcelain.

But would you break if you were in his presence?

He noticed that every single student always had an aura of calm and well-being after being with you, walking or just talking quickly with you. He wondered if he could finally feel himself, like the others, at peace with everyone and in particular with himself, if he could confess to you all kinds of dark thoughts he had always had, and if you would eventually forgive him.

To him you were like an unknown but fascinating presence at the same time, how you could induce so many men to follow you without them making moves on you, and without even needing some spells for it, How each time you seemed to bring a new air into the rooms every time you walked into one, how you could possess a talent for attracting all to yourself, things that, unfortunately, he could not do.

You were the opposite of him, so simple but at the same time so complicated to have close despite your charitable nature, and until then he would have considered you only a "funny" human completely exposed to all kinds of danger and so seemingly and certainly unaware of every evil that the world could reserve for everyone.

And everything would have been in a stalemate for him if I hadn’t had so much mercy on him.

"Hi, I wanted to ask you, since my friends and I were having a little party in my dorm, would you like to join us, I would really like to have you with us."

Everything seemed to be temporarily immobilized the moment you asked that question. Almost every person who had the luck or misfortune to have passed in that instant whispered how you had just signed your death sentence, while some even prepared to fight in the event Malleus could hurt you at any moment, and others still staring without moving a muscle.

As for him, he had regained no control over his body, as if his soul had temporarily left the material and bodily counterpart while he had no strength to move even a single muscle, while his face would not show even the slightest hint of emotion on his clear and defined features, making him look like an imposing and impressive statue for others.

But to you, it was not terrifying at all, which is why you continued to keep a sweet smile on your soft features and patiently waiting for a response from the fae, you had vaguely guessed from the very sight that he, like many others who had helped you throughout your life, had unfortunately always been misunderstood and put aside, you knew he was not the type to hurt someone casually, something for which your friends kept comparing you to a nurse always ready to help any soul that needed, but that he also continued to convince them not to do anything rash with him, and what you reproached them gently. You had managed to see the real Malleus Draconia, that child deprived of the necessary love and always estranged from everyone.

Suddenly, with a sharp nod of his head, he took leave just as quickly, leading you to snigger and admire the lukewarm sparks that remained of him.

"What a brave human."

This show of affection towards him, in his eyes, would have left him breathless and extremely confused, he simply cannot understand what was the spark that would have provoked his curiosity, He didn’t understand why a human like you had the guts to talk to him, let alone invite him to a party. But don’t misunderstand it, amidst that blanket of sudden emotions, an immense euphoria and joy would predominate such inner chaos. Finally someone invited him! Someone didn’t consider him a monster! He had finally met someone he had seen through his scales, he would finally have a friend for the first time, and he was elated by it.

From this point of no return, Malleus would wander much more often into the places you were accustomed to attend more often, and with every mention of your name or your sight, a light, hard-to-see smile would appear on his mouth, a smile that made him more charming but at the same time something he was not used to, always seeing himself and being seen with a perennial neutral and sometimes sad expression.

By the way, he would eventually become more concerned for your safety, still believing that you were a being created from porcelain, and that it could be broken even by a breath. He would begin to watch over your figure incessantly, not even letting his supposed trusted knights have the task of watching over you: Sebek was an extremely racist half-fae towards any kind of creature other than his own- and what for which Malleus mocked him silently, finding funny how he hated and did not want to see the half of himself- and even if he was duìiventato your friend and said to be changed for the better thanks to you, he didn’t believe that once at your window at night he could control himself. Most of all he knew that controlling his fae instincts was extremely complicated, so he excluded the handsome young man with the mint hair from the assignment.

While Silver, he probably would have fallen asleep during the times he was supposed to be watching you and keeping you safe, and not feeling safe about his presence at all along with yours, contrivedly imagining the fact that you could have been more comfortable with someone like you than with a powerful fae like him.

And leaving the job to none other than the one he trusted most, Lilia Vanrouge, who would immediately accept the job, subtly hinting that the future monarch might have a little crush on the adorable human.

It would be useless to say that every guy who before wandered around you, would have disappeared for a long time, noticing the look quite strange and disturbing both of Lilia and the heavy and suffocating presence of Malleus at your side. He absolutely had to avoid that he could be replaced by someone else unworthy and ungrateful of your presence, so making him more self-conscious and stunned by your calm and long chats, from which he would learn a lot of information about your life and yourself. At first he did not know what to do with that feeling of constant burning in his chest, he being quite if not completely inexperienced and innocent about abstract concepts and never tried for him as love.

Lilia would be his humble mentor in this new world where the powerful black-haired wizard would stumble upon. It would teach him everything he knew about this new burning feeling, a feeling as wonderful as it was painful.

And Malleus was doing exactly what the wise ancient fae had told him. Even though he still didn’t fully realize what he was doing, he trusted Lilia blindly, and he knew for a fact that he would never do anything to hinder him in any way. He was sacrificing for you every single piece of his mind, every drop of his being for you, putting his heart on a silver platter so you could do the same with yours. His behavior would start to change in a twisted way, constantly giving you questions, some of which were extremely personal and you weren’t allowed to answer, which annoyed him to say the least.

He was doing everything he needed to do, bare his heart, revealing all the darkest secrets of his soul, and you dared to lie to him and not answer?

Didn’t you have to make sacrifices?

In a relationship no one would keep secrets for themselves, and Malleus knew first of all what it was like to keep everything inside, catalyzing those emotions inside, but that didn’t justify your unwelcome behavior towards that kind of thing. He knew how hard it was, but if he could, he knew you could, too, and just as you comforted him on all his worries and forgave him for everything he did, he knew he would, too, He didn’t think you might have done such terrible or uncircumcised things that you would have categorically refused to express. He would never have judged the only person who had approached him, it would have been the equivalent of a suicide for the young man. He would never do that.

"All right, child of man, I see, now what do you say we take a walk? The weather is great right now."

He was doing everything he had to do, bare his heart, revealing all the darkest secrets of his soul, and you dared lie to him and not answer?

Didn’t you have to make sacrifices?

In a relationship no one would keep secrets for themselves, it wouldn’t be right; and Malleus knew firsthand what it meant to keep it all inside, catalyzing those emotions and hiding them, But that couldn’t possibly justify your unwelcome behavior towards that kind of thing. He knew how difficult it was to talk about uncomfortable topics and say everything to a person who couldn’t understand exactly how they felt; but if he, Malleus, could open up to you completely, he knew you could do the same with him.

And just as you comforted him on all his cares and forgave him for all that he had done, he knew he would also do it: he would hold your hands gently, wrap them with his much larger hands, and bring one to your wonderful face, stroking his cheek with his thumb and at the same time wiping a stray tear, he would have moved your head so that your looks could cross, the beautiful color of your eyes in contact with his jade eyes, inducing you to tell him all that you hid in the depths of your pure heart, smiling at your best and trying to comfort you to the fullest of his abilities, and holding you gently and tightly in an embrace as streams of words and words flowed from your mouth, as Malleus would have listened to every drop of it, drinking from your lips as if he were thirsty.

He didn’t think that you could do things so terrible or so evil that you would categorically refuse to express, he knew that you could never do it, he knew that you were so pure that not even the most corrupt creature would be able to corrupt you. And even if he was wrong about him, he would never have judged the only person who had ever approached him, never dreamed of it. A stab in the heart would have been better than witnessing your pain and disgust. He would never do that.

But, regardless of his thoughts and wills, he knew full well that everything that was going on around him was just daydreams, an illusion created by his cruel imagination to fill those moments when you weren’t together.

He did not understand.

What was going on?

What was happening to him?

All those images in his mind, all those thoughts about you, horrible scenarios where you forget about him, where you would finally listen to your pathetic friends and start avoiding him, like so many people have done before. The daydreams were progressively and slowly turning into nightmares for the fae, who did not yet understand what was happening, for him a morbid fear of your rejection, and the anger towards your friends who at the moment when they spotted even a small spark of his presence, would begin to invent unnecessary problems just to get away from him, which he would have responded with an even thicker stickiness than before, indirectly forcing you to stay with him for hours and hours, he could not describe the anxiety and the prominent prong he felt every time he saw you among those people who would separate you. He didn’t want to lose you, he would have died if you had just tried to leave, he felt a twinge in his heart just at the thought of canvases.

All he wanted was to hold on to his treasure so tight that he could never escape from his arms, so damn and selfishly close that no pathetic human or any other creature would ever be able to see you again.

During those moments of silence he would begin to think about which of the towering towers of his castle in his land would be most suitable for your stay. Surely he would have chosen the room in the highest tower of the castle, and the most lavish and shining room you would ever see, and inevitably he would have basked under the pride that your compliments on the luxuries of the place would have brought him, swelling his chest with a smile of happiness, one of his typical smiles he would do only in your presence. He would have taken care of you personally, leaving you with no choice but to blindly trust him, which he did with you, he would have dressed you in the best fabrics and dresses ever made, all custom-made by your future husband, would order his cooks to cook every dish or delicacy that would come to your mind, would make you bathe in the best cosmetics and beauty products recommended no less cehe by Vil himself. He would have lovingly provided for your every wish, even and especially at times when you wanted to become closer to each other. He would cuddle you lovingly everywhere in his castle, whether it was in front of Lilia and her knights or in front of his entire kingdom. He wanted everyone to know that you were his and his alone.

His beautiful treasure, the purest and brightest of all that other rubbish that ran around you and him.

This behavior and abrupt change in his habits, would have been noticed by you and everyone you considered friends and acquaintances, which would have only fulfilled his greatest fears, Now, despite your cryptic look where he could vaguely distinguish those two emotions that he absolutely did not want to see on your beautiful features, pain and distrust towards him.

He could not bear to live a life without you, by now you had become the only person who had finally given him the wonderful feeling of being well-liked, what did you expect from a powerful dragon fae who had always been deprived of love throughout his long life?

It was obvious that he would attach himself to the very first person who would show him some affection.

Especially if that person was you.

It would have changed your mind. He knew you’d never give him up, it wasn’t like you, it would make you realize that everything you were doing was just because you were being manipulated by your rotten friends that you were with every time. He only had to show you that those you considered friends were not such, and that he alone was worthy of your holy trust, taking your splendid body in his arms and returning to his land.

The school years were over for him, and by a lucky coincidence all this would fortunately happen a few months before the end of his senior year at Night Raven College. And as long as you could have fought him and tried to spread your white wings, tried to go desperately to Crowley, what could that stingy little crow do to a guy like him? He could literally shatter his precious school and everyone in it with a simple earthquake, and he knew he would never want that.

"Me’è corom veh, m’j cora⁴"

Finally he could fulfill his deepest dreams, finally he had another half to spend eternity with. He could finally have his happy ending, an end that had always been denied him until that moment, now it would become reality, and all because of your kindness and kindness.

You both would have your happy endings, forever trapped in the dragon’s jaws.

¹= Habibi is an Arabic word that literally means “my love” (sometimes also translated as “my dear,” “my darling,” or “beloved.”) It is used primarily as a pet name for friends, significant others, or family members. "Habibi" is used for boys, and "habibiti" for girls. I choose to use habibi because it's easier to me, but you can always change that based on your preferences!

²= Translated: "The beauty of this school, someone who has a beauty from another world."

³= A member of an online community of young men who consider themselves unable to attract women or men sexually, typically associated with views that are hostile towards those who are sexually active.

⁴=Translated: "I love you, my love", from the Ancient Language of Feridia, the Feridian Alphabet consists of about 21 symbols with a refined spelling, which in most cases represent one of the elements of Nature that ruled the Island and the Fairies of Feridia. Almost every graphic symbol can be traced back to a letter of our current alphabet, allowing us in some cases to reproduce approximately some proper name.

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Part one

Part two

[lizzygrantarchives]

Index Magazine, fall 2008

I'm waiting at Alice's Tea Cup, a café on the Upper East Side, when Lizzy Grant saunters up. She's wearing skintight black pants, a vintage floral blouse and a red letterman’s jacket. Her bright blonde hair is piled on top of her head and her eyes are rimmed with sooty eyeliner. If we were in a movie, her entrance would be scored with a vamp, the bass line revving to announce the arrival of an enchanting young ingénue.

But since we're not in a film, she's scored her own entrance with her CD Kill Kill. Produced by David Kahne (Regina Spektor, Sublime, Paul McCartney), the music is lush and cinematic, with strings, Wurlitzers, and electric guitars, recalling 50s-era Americana both sonically and thematically. The mix is anchored by Lizzy's voice, which twists between a smoky gravel and a breathy Marilyn coo as she wails about the timeless ache of love in a modern world.

Her EP, also titled Kill Kill, is out October 21 with a full length LP due in February ‘09. Over coffee, we discussed her music, her trailer home, and Tiger Beat.

You describe your music as Hawaiian glam metal and surf noir. How did you come to those descriptions?

At first I didn't know why I liked the “Hawaiian and glam,” idea but as I started listening to more artists I like, it made sense. There was just something about the look of Hawaii and then I started thinking more about Elvis and I couldn't believe how many Hawaiian references there were in his work. And the glam came from an old boyfriend, who was very handsome. He said that his music was glam, so I copied him. And then I started to look at other glam-y artists and movies-- you know, like “Velvet Goldmine,” and I thought, this is what I've always wanted to do. I'm very into a drag queen world-- anything showy and gold.

And what about metal?

The same boyfriend taught me all about Van Halen and Poison, and he called them metal bands. As soon as I heard them, I thought, “these are my people!” And then it was all that I listened to, so... When I met with all the big record labels, they didn't like the term “metal” at all, because admittedly the music doesn't sound like metal. But, it is influenced by men who like metal.

And surf noir is the similar to the Elvis references?

Surf noir is one of those two word phrases that came together for me. I was listening to a lot of Beach Boys and watching a lot of movies and I just felt like what I wanted to be was something “surf noir.” But then I started searching for the words together, and there is a movement called surf noir, but it’s a style of cinema… I couldn't buy Surfnoir.com.

So the EP has three songs-- any plans to release a full CD?

Yes, when I recorded with Davey [David Kahne], we recorded 13 songs. So I was never expecting to release an EP, but when iTunes came to us, and became fervent supporters and said, “put out anything and we'll give you the artist's spotlight.” We decided, okay, we'll just put out an EP, which was released on October 21.

The instrumentation is very theatrical and I was wondering what sort of process you used in writing those parts. Was it collaborative?

Before we started, we spent three weeks with really thorough emails back and forth-- I really liked the sound I had and I wanted to make sure to keep it. I told Davey that I wanted to sound like black and white, and I wanted it to sound famous and like Coney Island and like a sad party. And he wrote back, “I can do that! I understand that perfectly.”

How do you feel about how it came out?

I am pleased. The funny thing is, if it was exactly the way I wanted, then I would say that I am completely pleased, but because it's different than I expected, I'll be pleased if many other people like it too. I feel like a shithead saying that...but I hope it gets some kind of recognition just so that I can move on and do some different things.

What type of things would you move on to?

I always expect that once I do something, I'm going be able to transition into this better life, like maybe move somewhere else or get to know more people. Ideally, I would like to move back to a little part of New Jersey or Coney Island and have people to work with on little projects like music videos, because I do much better in a box. Performing is really, really hard for me, so I would just like to have more people and more money to do more sexy projects.

Sexy projects!

Yes, I just want to have something to do all the time-- and it's easier to do when people think you're great.

Where do you see a record like this being played?

That's a good question. I was sure that I knew, but I've been wrong. For instance, I've been singing recently at private parties for young Wall Street, and not so young Wall Street, and I'm surprised that they like the music. I guess that's not really a demographic though is it?

A recently unemployed demographic, but...

[Laughs] And I started singing at places in my hometown like the American Legion, and the friends I have here-- biker guy transplants from small towns. So maybe them too?

I thought it was really interesting that you use a lot of very feminine cultural signifiers with references to Daddy figures and pinup styles. At the same time, it feels modern because the narrator of the songs is very clearly the one in control. Do I understand it correctly?

I think you do. I guess my songs started being songs that I liked when I stopped being nervous about the content. I do like singing about “Daddy” and “baby”-- “Daddy” being the man and me being the “girl.” I didn't know that that had been such a prevalent theme in the Fifties, but now that I’ve listened to more music from that era, I see that it is. And I’m very relieved, because I don't want it to seem like I have a complex! But it's something I can't get over. I want to have a life where there's just one man in it, and I haven't found that.

But then in the song “Gramma Blue Ribbon Sparkler,” it seems your grandma is telling you that there will be one guy, and you respond that you want to be “the whole world's girl.”

That's funny. I mean, that was the last song we recorded and I already had the choruses, and I got to write the verses while I was living in a trailer in New Jersey. The best part of it was the light rail that ran from the Park to Hoboken. I wrote the verses on that, back and forth, because that’s the best view of the city. I think that was one of my happiest times, and I think that makes for happiness in the verses. And I remember telling my grandma, “I wish I could meet someone.” And she said, “When I was young, we didn't have the chance or the choice to try and see a lot of people-- you had to meet a man and that was kind of it-- but don't be afraid to meet everybody.” And I thought, you're the first person in my family who's ever made me feel like it’s okay to want to try and find the right thing.

Were you living in a trailer when you were making the record?

Yes. And I know how that sounds. But the fact is that I always thought it was a dream. It was the first place that was mine. And the people-- it's a real community. People decorate their homes.

Speaking of embellishment, it seems like style is very important to you and you have a very cohesive package in music and your look.

Well, wanting to have a defined life and a defined world to live in has been a lifelong ambition and desire for me, but it has changed a lot. Which is fine.

Now, it's very retro-inspired but modern, similar to the music.

A lot of the songs on this record came about because I didn't have a lot of exposure to all things cool, but now that I do, I just realize that I fit in perfectly. So I plan on just gratefully incorporating more of it.

Sounds very organic.

Yes, though now that I have been exposed to more, it's getting harder. I don't want it to feel like I'm copying anyone.

Did you ever read Tiger Beat magazine?

Tiger Beat? Like Jonathan Taylor Thomas?

Exactly! They always do quizzes about things people like, so I thought it would be fun to give you a little Tiger Beat style test!

Cool! That's a big deal.

Three things you always have with you.

Three things I always have with me… [rummages around in her bag and pulls out items.] A sparkle notebook. Lip liner. Cayenne pepper.

Cayenne pepper! Why?

When I get nervous, I put Cayenne pepper on my lips. It calms me down.

Best pickup line ever used.

It was something like, “If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?” I didn't get it at first and I was like, well no, but that's very nice.

Most embarrassing song on my iPod or generic MP3 player.

I would say a self-help audio-book.

Favorite food.

Coffee. And pie.

If you could kiss any celebrity, who would it be?

Oh that's good. Antony. From Antony and the Johnsons.

Describe yourself in three words.

Confused. Floral. And ah, odd?

I was expecting Hawaiian glam metal.

Oh, that too!

Originally published on indexmagazine.com.

[aworldofmymaking]

Exploring the Beauty of Siquijor

By: Jenel B. Maribujoc (GE 5 T-TH 10:30-12:00)

My two days and two nights stay at Siquijor was extraordinary. In the evening of April 17, 2023. My nephew and I traveled from Dumaguete port to Siquijor port via ferry.

As we arrived in Siquijor port, we were picked up by our aunties and uncle together with my niece, who had arrived in Siquijor earlier that day. I was very exhausted and tired because of the trip, but as I watched the lights and the people walking around the streets going to their respective places. It made me more excited to explore the Island of Siquijor. I couldn't wait for the night to be over, so that I could explore and see the beauty of Siquijor during the daylight.

Fast forward to April 18, 2023. The day that I anticipated, we decided to go on a road trip to visit some of the famous places in Siquijor. The first place that we visited was Paliton beach, which is the most famous beach in Siquijor. Ever since I was a kid, I have really loved going to some beaches. I love how the waves touch the sand on the seashore and the scorching heat of the sun that touches the enticing water of the sea, but as I saw the crystal clear water of the beaches in Siquijor. It made me fall more in love. I've been to some beaches in Negros and Cebu, but the white sand and the clear waters of Siquijor made me want to visit all of the beaches here in the Philippines.

Our second stop was in the old enchanted Balete tree. It was so peaceful and enchanting. Below the old Balete tree is a natural spring flowing directly to the man-made pool. There were a lot of fish in the man-made pool. Where you can dip your feet and they will flock around to nibble the unwanted skin on your feet. It was fascinating to watch and it felt so good whenever the little fishes would nibble my feet, but I would always raise my feet whenever the big fishes swam towards me. I feel like they would bite my feet. Although, I knew in my mind that they just wanted to nibble my feet for some unwanted skin. Lol.

Anyway, we didn't stay in that place for so long because we wanted to go to the Cambugahay falls. To see the beauty of the falls, but unfortunately, we weren't able to go there due to the lack of time. So, we just decided to go to the place where we took some beautiful pictures called Hapitanan, which is located in Tignawo Lazi, Siquijor. We also didn't stay there for too long, because my aunties decided that we should go to a place where we could have a drink and relax. For us, to be refreshed by the exhausting but enjoyable road trip that we had. As we arrived at that place, we weren't able to sit there, because the place was crowded with a lot of people, specifically foreign nationals. They were sitting while watching the sunset in front of them. Some of them were sketching the captivating red-orange sunset. However, it didn't stop me from taking some memorable pictures of the beautiful sunset.

As we watched the sunset, we decided to go back to the place where we stayed for the whole trip. So, that we can watch the sun as it sets and hide on the east side of Negros Island. When we arrived, we literally ran towards the shore and what I saw was the most beautiful sunset that I'd ever seen in my existence. It made me realize that maybe this is why Siquijor is called the Island of fire, because of the flaming color of the sun as it sets while facing the Island of Siquijor. Not only that, but the way the light of the setting sun touches the sea water and the shape of Negros Island made me think that it was an unrealistic painting that was painted by a great painter.

That's how I ended my day, by watching the sunset as it fades and turned into a wonderful dark sky. The day after that, April 19, 2023, was the day that we're scheduled to leave. As we wait for the right time to leave the Island. We decided to roam around the nearby area of Siquijor port. I was a little bit sad that we didn't stick to our original plan. That we would roam the whole Island of Siquijor. However, I was still satisfied with the warm welcome and the warm goodbye from the mystic Island. Hopefully, in the future I can go back there and visit those places that I've never been to and make more memories together with my family.

[randominagines]

An Ouat Peter Pan X fem!reader in which she dresses up like a boy to go to Neverland and reunite with her best friend. Her plan is to take him away but things go a bit differently.

Pairing: Ouat Peter Pan X fem!reader

Warning: sex reference, violence, blood, death, language, kidnapping

P.s. if you find any mistake please correct me, English is not my mother tongue and I want to improve. Reblog, if you can, it helps a lot, thank you💕

P.p.s. gifs belong to the creators

The magic bean

Knowing that your best friend had been taken on the legendary island of Neverland is a thing, but dressing up as a boy and stealing a magic bean to follow him there was another level of craziness. That's exactly what y/n did. After all, she and Rupert grew up together and always heard stories about Neverland, its magical forest and famous leader. As soon as they found out how to call the Shadow they did it, leaving the orphanage where they lived since they were abandoned there was their ultimate goal. But things didn't went as planned: the Shadow arrived and took Rupert, but left y/n there. "No girls allowed on the island." he had said to her. She never forgot Rupert's attempt to stay with her, but the Shadow had been called and wouldn't have left without a boy. Rupert was taken away against his will and she spent a whole year trying to find a magic bean. Now, she was finally on that damn island.

She stood up, the landing hadn't been exactly soft but the sand gladly cushioned the blow. She messaged her back and looked around: in front of her, crystal clear waters were shining under the moonlight and a dense forest stood behind her. She quickly made sure that her disguise was okay: she was wearing a pair of morbid trousers and a large shirt to cover her curves, she had even wrapped her breast in a tight bandage to make it flatter. Her hair were in hidden under a hat and her face covered in dirt. She opened her hand: the other magic bean she had stolen was standing there. She put it in her pocket and nodded, ready to find Rupert and to run away with him.

Before she could even come up with a plan, she heard footsteps approaching: a group of boys immediately spotted her and ran toward her. She covered her face by wearing the hood of her cloak. They surrounded her. -- A new boy! -- one of them shouted while they all stopped around her. She took a deep breath and watched a tall boy walking toward her. -- Welcome to Neverland, new recruit. What's you name? -- he asked. She scanned them all to see if Rupert was between them and felt disappointment when realised that he wasn't there. -- Uhm, Ste... -- she was about to say, then she coughed to make her voice deeper. -- Steven. -- she concluded coming up with the first name she could think of.

The boy raised an eyebrow but nodded. -- Welcome Steven, follow us, you'll meet our leader. -- he said and she did as she was told. The forest was darker that how it seamed from outside: huge branches didn't allow to the moonlight to penetrate and the absolute silence was almost disturbing. The boys knew exactly where to go and she realised that they were leading her to a camp because she started hearing the noise of other voices getting closer.

-- Uhm, I know that a friend of mine ended up here too, his name is Rupert and he has blonde hair and brown eyes, a lot of freckles. Does this ring a bell? -- she asked, her voice sounding extremely strange even to her hears. The boy who spoke to her before nodded. -- Rupert! Of course, he's on a mission for our leader, probably dealing with the pirates on the other side of the shore. If he survives you'll see him in a month or two. -- he said and she almost gasped: was he in danger? The boy laughed. -- You should see your face! I was kidding, he's in the enchanted forest, searching for something our leader needs but he'll be back in a few days, don't worry. -- he joked and she pretended to laugh but her heart had almost skipped a beat: Rupert was like a brother to her, the only family she ever had.

The boy smiled at her. -- Welcome to our camp, Steven. -- he said and she looked around: the camp was bigger than she expected. There were almost fifty boys, some of them sitting on the ground and playing instruments, some other eating from coconut shells, some others dancing around the bonfire. That place looked cosy and they all seamed happy. She bite her lower lip wondering if she had done the right thing. Even if she managed to find Rupert, was he going to abandon all of that to go back to a life of uncertainties? She couldn't know.

A blonde boy walked toward them, his face crossed by a deep scar and his expression bored. -- Paul, why is your group always late? Have you collected water? We're running out of... -- he suddenly stopped talking as soon as he laid his eyes on her. -- Who's this? -- he asked, his eyebrows raising. Paul shrugged. -- Found him on the beach, probably the Shadow left him a few hours ago. -- he simply answered and y/n tried to cover her face by moving a lock of her hair in front of her eyes. The boy nodded and left, he looked pensive.

Paul kept walking. -- Now I'm going to show you your tent and tomorrow you'll start training and you'll meet our leader. -- he said and y/n nodded while walking next to him. He looked at her. -- Can you fight? -- he asked and she nodded. -- Yes, I've been trained. -- she said and she wasn't lying: the orphanage was a kind of place in which you learn how to fight back or you get massacred, no middle ground. He nodded. -- Perfect, then... -- he couldn't finish because a boy walked toward them.

Y/n looked at him and couldn't help but widen her eyes: he was handsome. He had the deepest green eyes she had ever seen, his stare was just mesmerising. His brown hair were a bit messy and his lips curved into a smile, a mischievous one. He radiated pure power and when he stopped in front of her she stared at him. -- Paul, have you found a lost puppy along the way? -- he asked, his voice soft while he started walking around her, his eyes studying her. She turned to face him while Paul nodded. -- Yes Pan, fresh meat for you. -- he said and Pan smiled. -- I see. leave us, Paul, I want to talk to the little one. -- he commanded and he did as told.

Now they were alone. He kept staring at her. -- It's warm tonight, remove your cloak or you'll melt down. -- he joked and she shrugged: she was actually feeling the heat of that night. She was seriously starting to feel as if she couldn't breath properly and she was sweating. -- I'm always cold. -- she lied and felt her skin burning. He laughed and raised his hand: with a quick movement, a green mist came out from his fingers and a scarf appeared in his hand.

She almost screamed: was he a magician? She had never seen one even if in the Enchanted Forest there were whispers about them. He gently wrapped the scarf around her neck. -- Here you are, my boy. -- he said underlining the last word. She immediately felt and insane warmth invading her body: she thought she was about to melt like wax. She took a deep breath and looked at him: he was smiling in satisfaction, so she understood. "This bastard knows." she thought and shook her head before coming to the conclusion that her plan was totally screwed up.

She raised her arms in surrender. -- Okay, you won. -- she said, her voice now back to the normal tone, and removed the scarf, the clock and the hat. He looked at her: her y/h/C hair were attached to her skins, the sweat making it shine like she was covered in crystals, her y/e/c eyes were filled with determination and her lips were red because she was nervously biting them. He couldn't help but think that she was extremely beautiful, the most beautiful girl he had seen in years.

He grinned. -- Good girl. What's your name and how did you arrive here? -- he asked and she blushed a bit but immediately answered. -- I am y/n. I stole a magic bean, I'm here for my best friend, Rupert. -- she sincerely said and he raised an eyebrow while taking a step closer to her. -- Your best friend? Do you want to take him away with you? That would explain this. -- he said and opened his hand, she gasped: her magic bean appeared in his palm.

She looked at him in shock before touching her pocket. -- Hey, that's mine, I almost got killed to steal it. -- she said and he laughed while getting closer to her, his face now standing centimetres from hers. -- Let's make a deal, shall we? -- he asked while putting the bean back in her pocket. She held her breath while he stared at her, his eyes stuck into hers. He was so close she could distinguish the shade of yellow into the green of his eyes. He smelled like the forest and his face was covered in freckles. -- I'm all ears. -- she said and didn't step back, he smirked. -- I'll let you stay here, on Neverland, so you can remain with your best friend. In exchange, you'll give me this bean. What do you think? -- he asked, his voice low, soft, almost mesmerising. She frowned. -- How can I be sure you'll let me stay? -- she asked crossing her arms over her chest, her breast starting to hurt because of the bandage squeezing it.

He touched her pocket and she felt his fingers on her legs even if the fabric of the trousers was separating them from her skin. -- That's why I gave it back to you. Keep it until you'll prove your value with the final test and you'll be accepted as one of us, then you'll give it to me. -- he said, his lips almost touching hers. She smirked suddenly liking the outcome of that deal and closed her eyes. He did the same thinking that she was about to kiss him, but a second before touching his lips, she put a hand on his chest to push him back. He frowned and she grinned. -- We have a deal, Pan, we'll see what's next. -- she said and he smiled, his hands running through his hair while staring at her. He sighed. -- Yes, we'll see, y/n. --.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A month had passed. Rupert was back after a few days since she had arrived on the island and in seeing her his reaction had been totally priceless. Y/n was extremely happy to have him back, she had missed him and after a year apart she couldn't believe how he stayed exactly the same. Life in Neverland was not easy at all but it was totally worth it: y/n never felt home, not once in her life, but that place really made her feel like she could live there for the rest of her life. The Lost Boys were still getting used to the idea of having a girl around but they were starting to respect her.

She knew how to stand her ground and she had also passed the final test: a hand to hand combat against one of the veterans. Everything was going incredibly well for the first time in her life, and the best part was having the chance to spend time with Peter. She was starting to enjoy his company: sure, he was a complicated person, sometimes incomprehensible, but she couldn't help but think that he was incredible. He was a tease; he liked smirking to her, teaching her stuff and finding excuses to spend time with her and being close to her. A lot of sexual tension developed between the two of them but she had been so busy preparing for her final test that nothing happened. Yet.

-- So, are you going to give the magic bean to him? -- Rupert asked her while watching her put her boots on. She stood up from her bed and nodded. She quickly looked herself in the mirror: the tight black trousers underlined her every curve and the shade of beige of the shirt was perfect for her skin colour. Her y/h/c hair were braided and her face relaxed after hours of sleep. She smiled thinking that she never liked herself that much before: life on Neverland made her more confident about herself. Rupert shook his head. -- All this effort to go a moment in his house and give him a stupid bean. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to impress Peter Pan. -- he provoked her.

He knew her like the back of his hand: his best friend liked him. Y/n turned to look at him and crossed her arms. -- Are you implying that I like him? No way. -- she said, her voice sounding convincing, but not enough to fool Rupert. He smiled. -- Please, I know you. I'm not implying, I'm affirming. -- he said and she laughed while shaking her head. -- I don't. Now, excuse me, I must go. -- she said before putting the magic bean in her pocket and giving him a quick kiss on his cheek before leaving.

The forest was silent early in the morning, the boys were tired because the previously evening they had won a battle against the pirates and the celebrations went on all the night long, so they went to sleep late. She had fought too and was quite proud of how much she had improved; she also had the chance to fight side by side with Peter since he decided to have her in his group; to check her progress, that's what he had said. She walked between the trees, a gentle breeze smelling like the sea caressing her face. She thought about the fact that she hadn't been able to spend a moment alone with Peter since she arrived and smiled knowing that she was about to. "Maybe I do like him." she thought. After all, no one knew her better than Rupert, maybe he was all right.

She stopped in front of the Thinking Tree, ready to climb and reach Peter's house, but before she could take another step, a big hand covered her mouth. She tried to scream but the person was holding a tissue and it was soaked in a soporific dust. She immediately understood that it was Belladonna, a narcotic perennial herb. -- Don't make this harder, little girl. -- the voice of a man filled her ear. She felt her legs weakening and started to see black spots but managed to recognise the voice of the man who spoke: a pirate she had seen on the battlefield the night before.

She knew she was about to pass out, so she quickly took the magic bean from her pocket and decided to leave it on the ground, hoping that Peter would have found it and realized that something was wrong. She pretended to lose her strength and kneeled down, her hand quickly putting the bean on the ground. The pirate didn't notice her gesture and brusquely lifted her on his shoulder. He started to walk away and she saw the bean shining under the first rays of sunshine, then she closed her eyes wondering what was about to happen to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-- Where the hell is y/n? -- Peter furiously asked to Rupert. He shrugged, his face a mask of confusion. -- She's not here? I thought she was with you! Last time I saw her, this morning, she was coming here to your house. -- he explained while panicking a bit. Peter took a deep breath while walking around, his hands on his hips and his mind running fast: where could she have gone? He sighed. -- Let's go search her, I don't have a good feeling about this situation. -- he said and flew outside.

As soon and he landed on the ground, he felt something under his foot; he moved it and saw it: between the fallen leaves there was a small magic bean. He picked it up and immediately understood. -- Something happened to her, she would never have left it here. She knows the value of this object. -- he said to Rupert and looked around in search of a clue. He managed to spot prints: four around him, then just two disappearing in the forest, as someone had carried someone else toward the beach. He growled between his teeth and Rupert looked at him. -- Pirates? -- he asked, his voice alarmed. Peter nodded, his green eyes getting darker. -- I'll go take her back and make them pay for this. --.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n woke up and immediately felt a strong headache, an intense pain torturing her. She perceived the cold of the wood beneath her body and the smell of the sea all around. She squeezed her eyes to bring the imagines into focus and realized that she was on the vessel, sat on the floor, her hands tied up. She cursed inside while the pirates noticed that she was awake, one of them stepped toward her and lifted her. She tried to wriggle out but the man tied her up to the mast with a rope. She growled looking at him and he laughed, just like the rest of the crew. A robust but handsome man walked toward her, his short black beard making him look charming and his black eyes as deep as the night. She immediately understood that he must had been the Captain.

He stopped in front of her and caressed her cheek. -- What a temper we have, don't we? -- he asked with a gentle voice and the men laughed, she turned her head to avoid his touch. He smiled. -- Calm down, kitty. We won't hurt you, if Peter Pan gives us the permission to leave the island. I hate this place and it makes me crazy not being able to sail away. I need new adventures. -- he said and she laughed. They all went silent, not expecting such a reaction.

The Captain raised an eyebrow while staring at her. -- You fools! Do you really believe that I matter this much to him? He won't let you leave this place, you took the wrong person to blackmail him. -- she said while smiling in satisfaction. The Captain grabbed her chin. -- Don't you try to fool me! We've seen him protecting you in the battle, he was always by your side. -- he said and she widened her eyes: was that true? She had been so busy fighting that she hadn't noticed such a thing. But that would have explained why Peter insisted to have her in his group even if he usually accepted only the veterans in this personal group of fighters during the battles.

She shook her head. -- What... No... I am the last arrived, this doesn't make sense... -- she said and the Captain laughed. -- Feelings never make sense, little girl. -- he whispered, his face centimetres from hers. She looked at him. -- He won't allow you anyways, he doesn't like to be told what he has to do. -- she concluded, her eyes filled with confidence. He growled in frustration and ran his hands through his hair, he looked really handsome even if there was something evil in his eyes. -- That's a shame, you are so lovely, -- he said caressing her arm, she looked at him with hate. -- But if you're all right, then you are as beautiful as useless. I must kill you, -- he continued, his hand now caressing her neck. She tensed up. -- But we can find an agreement, maybe you can be of other uses, to me... -- he whispered, his thumb caressing her cheek. She immediately turned her head and stared at him while spitting in is face.

He widened his eyes, his hand now touching his cheek to clean himself from the spit, she stared at him. -- I'd rather die than being touched by you. -- she said, her voice firm. He smiled. -- Well, you shall be pleased. -- he sweetly said before slapping her. She felt her cheekbone pulsing, the pain making her frown but she didn't moan, she wasn't going to give that satisfaction to him.-- What kind of honour must you have to kill me unarmed and chained? -- she asked, her eyes stuck into his.

He smiled taking his sword. -- I'm not wasting my time fighting against a bitch I can simply kill -- he concluded. She closed her eyes, ready to die, but the blade never touched her. Instead, a familiar voice made her wince. -- Someone is going to die, yes, but not her. -- Peter Pan was standing on the deck, his hands raised and ready to make some magic, his eyes burning with rage.

Y/n stared at him, gratitude in her eyes. He quickly moved his hands and all the pirates instantly collapsed to the floor, their neck twisted. Everyone except the Captain. He pointed his sword to her chest while staring at Peter. -- Another step and she dies. -- he whispered, the tip of his blade cutting her skin. She perceived a drop of blood running down her body. Peter smiled moving his hand: the sword turned into dust. The Captain opened his mouth and looked at the ashes of his weapon flying away.

Peter walked toward him, a green mist coming out from his fingers. -- How does it feel? Knowing that you're about to suffer? -- Peter asked while stopping in front of him, he was shaking. Peter snapped his fingers and the ropes around y/n's body disappeared. She touched her wrists while Peter walked next to her, his hand tenderly caressing her back. She stared at the Captain, he looked frightened. -- Please, please.. -- he begged while kneeling down.

Peter smirked but y/n felt pity. She looked at Peter but he was staring at the man. -- Y/n will decide how you have to die. -- he said and y/n gasped. She never stepped back from a battle, but killing someone like that... She walked toward the Captain and stared at him. -- You will not die today, -- she said and he hugged her legs in gratitude, she pushed him back. -- I haven't finished. You will not die but you will be forced to stay on this island alone, without your crew, without your ship. This will be your punishment. You will be unable to do what you love most: live other adventures. -- she said and Peter smiled, proud of her plan.

The Captain started to shake his head and stood up. -- No, no, no! -- he screamed while Peter grabbed her by her waist and started to walk away. She ignored the Captain's words and walked next to Peter. In the moment they were about to fly away, that man took the sword of one of the member of his crew and ran toward her, ready to kill her. She heard his footsteps and moved quickly than Peter: she took the dagger he was carrying with him and stabbed him in his chest. The man stared at her, life leaving his eyes, and died in front of her. The noise of his body collapsing on the floor made her wince.

Peter stared at her. -- Y/n, are you okay? -- he asked caressing her face, his magic instantly curing her cheekbone. She nodded hugging him. -- Thank you , Peter. -- she whispered, her head against his chest. He caressed her head. -- For what? You practically saved yourself. -- he joked and she looked at him with watery eyes. -- You came here, you could have left me here. -- she said caressing his chest, he smiled and put a finger under her chin. -- I wouldn't have abandoned my Lost Girl. -- he said and she smiled.

Maybe she was still perceiving the adrenaline of the battle or she was just feeling brave, but she decided to kiss him. She crushed her lips on his, her hands caressing the back of his head. He widened his eyes in surprise for a moment, but immediately kissed her back. Her lips parted and his tongue searched for hers. His hands grabbed her waist to pull her closer, their bodies were now attached and he could feel her heart beating against his. She smelled so good and her skin was burning under his fingers while he caressed her back.

She smiled on his lips while opening her eyes to meet his. -- Good thing I left that magic bean in front of your Thinking Tree. -- she whispered between a kiss and another. He bit her lower lip. -- I knew that it was a signal. You're so smart, that's sexy, Lost Girl. -- he whispered before kissing her again. She laughed and pulled his hair to kiss his neck, her lips gently touching it. He moaned squeezing her hips. -- That's a great quality of mine, but not the only one you can appreciate. -- she teased him while sucking the zone she had previously kissed. He smirked while perceiving her tongue on his neck.

-- I had no doubts you were going to be full of surprises. -- he whispered while she stopped torturing his neck. She looked at the hickey she had just left and smiled in satisfaction before staring at him in his eyes. He caressed her lips with his thumb while grinning and she raised an eyebrow. -- You have no idea how much I'm going to make you crazy. -- she provoked him, her lips on his. He smiled. -- Can't wait to see you trying. -- he said before kissing her again.

[angel-with-a-pipette]

A (business) proposal

(art by @amyhayanora)

Summary:

Thanks to Sora, Kairi's father is about to strike a business deal with a very wealthy investor, but he can't forget or forgive all the times Kairi had cried in the past over her now boyfriend. Is Sora going to disappear again any minute or is he serious about their new relationship?

Rating: General

Genre: Romance

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Disney/Square Enix.

This story has been written as part of the Sokai zine in 2021, the zine for our favorite canon ship ❤

A major thank you goes to @phoenix-downer who was the incredibly helpful and supportive writing mod of that project. This story wouldn't exist without her.

Another big thank you goes to @amyhayanora who I was lucky to collaborate with and who ended up drawing the beautiful banner to this story ❤

Thank you both so much and a thank you to @sokaizine for having me!

Please enjoy!

Kairi took a deep breath and stood before her floor length mirror, checking her appearance once more.

After a lot of fussing, her hair had finally cooperated and framed her face in gentle waves, along with a pearl barrette and a pair of simple pearl earrings that complemented her enchanted necklace perfectly.

That wasn’t too much jewelry, right?

She nervously smoothed down her lilac dress. The top of it was modest enough with its intricate lace, but was the hem too short perhaps? She wanted to make a good impression tonight—after all, her father wanted to make a business deal with a new investor that might not only greatly benefit her father’s current standing as the mayor of Destiny Islands but also improve the islands’ economy in the long run.

Kairi spun around a little, watching her dress’s hem flutter around her thighs. Finally, she decided the length was respectable enough and smoothed the fabric down one last time before the ringing doorbell pulled her out of her musings. She bolted down the stairs and shouted a quick “I’ll get it!” at her mom who had stuck her head out of the kitchen door before Kairi slid to a halt in front of the entry door and pulled it open.

There, in his full glory, stood her boyfriend. His hair was wild as always, sticking out in every direction possible, but Kairi could swear that at least some part of it had seen a comb lately. He had exchanged his hoodie and athletic pants for a nice dress shirt and a pair of black slacks and had even thought to put on a tie that matched with the color of her dress—although he had seemingly struggled with it, seeing as it loosely hung off his neck.

“Hi,” he greeted her with his famous smile, and Kairi felt her stomach flip.

“Hi,” she replied, the corners of her mouth curling into a soft smile as she tugged on his untied tie. Expecting a kiss in greeting, Sora’s eyes fluttered shut and he puckered his lips, but instead of granting his wish, Kairi swiftly tied his necktie. Once she was done, she bopped his nose with a giggle, and she only giggled harder when Sora started to pout. He soon smiled again however when he looked at her and reached for her hands.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she answered breathlessly and felt her cheeks grow warmer when Sora pulled her close. During the last year, another growth spurt had hit him, and Kairi was finally forced to look up into his eyes—or at his lips as she was currently doing. “You clean up quite nicely, too,” she added and closed her eyes when she felt Sora first bump, then gently rub his nose against hers. A soft sigh escaped her and a pleasant shudder ran down her back when she felt him lean in.

“Hey, you two can make out later!”

Startled, Kairi quickly pushed Sora away and looked back over her shoulder. Her mother stood in the hallway, and despite wearing a pink, frilly apron over her dress that Kairi had sewn for her a couple of years ago, she looked menacing in all the ways only a mother could with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

“C’mon, I need you two to set the table outside.”

“Yes, mom,” Kairi replied sheepishly and fumbled with her hands behind her back until she felt Sora’s warm hand wrap around hers.

“Good evening, ma’am,” Sora greeted the older woman and despite her stern expression, her lip started twitching, quickly exchanging her frown for a smile.

Even her own mother wasn’t immune to Sora’s charm.

“Good evening, Sora,” she returned the greeting warmly, “I might need your help in a minute. Kairi told me you’re good with French cuisine?”

“I did cook with a French chef before.”

“Great! In that case, can you help me taste test and add the finishing touches?”

“Sure, will do. It already smells amazing though!”

Satisfied, Kairi’s mom nodded and returned to the kitchen while Sora dutifully followed Kairi to the living room and helped her open the big accordion doors to the spacious patio. A few wooden steps led down to the beach and from there, the ocean that now reflected the setting sun was way just far enough for the tide not to reach the house.

If that wasn’t the perfect ambience for a successful business dinner, nothing would be!

With combined efforts, the outside table was set up quickly and all that was left for Kairi to do was to stack up a few pillows on one of the chairs.

“Do you think this will be high enough?”

Sora walked up next to her and examined the height of the cushions on the chair compared to the height of the table.

“Yeah, I think these should be enough. Which means,” he turned around and wrapped his arms around her waist, “we’re done here. And I think you still owe me my welcome kiss, especially with this romantic sunset behind us.”

“Hmmm, I do, don’t I?”

Kairi raised her hands to cup Sora’s face and she felt him melt into her touch. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please?”

His plea went straight to her heart, and she gently tilted Sora’s face down before she rose to her tiptoes. She already felt his warm breath on her lips when a loud “harrumph” startled the pair, making Kairi push Sora away once again. She spun around and came face to face with her dad who stood in the doorway, glaring at the couple. Behind her, she felt Sora put his hands on her shoulders and straighten his posture.

“Good evening, sir,” Sora greeted her father, but a grunt was all Kairi’s dad offered him in reply before glancing back at his daughter.

“I see you invited him.”

Kairi immediately raised her hand to one of her shoulders and squeezed Sora’s hand that was resting there. “Of course I invited him. After all, Sora is the one who helped establish this business connection.”

Her father eyed Sora rather grimly before turning his back to both of them.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. There’s no business deal until we’ve signed the documents.”

“Of course, but—”

“Sora?” After shooting her husband an irritated look, Kairi’s mom squeezed past him into the dining room and waved Sora over. “Could you taste-test the soup for me, dear?”

“Of course,” he replied quickly and exchanged a look with Kairi. She smiled encouragingly at him and closed her eyes when Sora pressed a gentle kiss to her temple before following her mom out of the room.

“I hope you won’t display this amount of PDA when our guest is around.”

Taken aback by her dad’s comment, Kairi rolled her eyes and crossed her arms defiantly.

“C’mon, dad, it was just a kiss—”

“It’s not acceptable,” he emphasized, and Kairi knew there was no point in arguing further, so she relented.

“Of course we won’t.”

But her dad didn’t seem to be satisfied with her reply, so Kairi walked towards him, rubbing his back gently. “Dad? Are you okay?”

“He shouldn’t be here.”

Kairi pulled her hand away from his back as if he had burned her, and her heart started to pound more quickly.

“What do you mean? He introduced you to—”

Her father turned back to face her, spreading his arms in anger.

“He couldn’t even be bothered to tame his wild hair!”

“He tried to before, it didn’t work out! Besides, he dressed up just for this occasion! I didn’t even know he owned a dress shirt.”

“What about his loose mouth, then? Who says one of his offhand comments won’t completely crush this meeting?”

“Sora doesn’t have a loose mouth. And not only does he know your business partner,” she crossed her arms defiantly, “again, I’d happily remind you that it’s thanks to Sora, that you’re even meeting him—so he knows how to speak and behave around him. Sora’s also had to deal with so many different people during his travels, politicians, monarchs, you name it. He’s learned to be diplomatic and I trust him to—”

“Oh, his travels? You mean when he left you behind again and again?”

“Dad! What is your problem?!”

“He is my problem!”

Kairi winced, but her dad wasn’t done yet.

“He might’ve made today’s meeting possible, he might be here right now and play your perfect boyfriend, but I will never forgive him for how deeply he hurt you. He wasn’t there when you stopped going to the play island because of him, spending days and weeks alone in your room while everyone else was out playing. He wasn’t there when you were upset about being left behind. And he wasn’t there when you cried your heart out for weeks because he’d disappeared!”

He took a deep breath and suddenly, his anger was gone. All that was left in his expression was exhaustion and sadness, and it was through defeated eyes that he looked at his daughter.

“I can’t stand the thought of him hurting you again and again. You deserve better.”

“She does.”

Kairi’s head snapped around and her heart hurt when she saw Sora standing in the doorway, eyes turned to the floor dejectedly. But then he lifted his head and made his way to her with a determined expression on his face before smiling at her, reaching for her hand to interlace their fingers.

“She deserves the worlds,” Sora agreed while looking Kairi straight in the eye and raising their interlaced hands to press her hand against his heart. “But she chose me. Trust me, I’m still as surprised as you are that she would still want me after all the pain I put her through. But that also means that I can’t run and leave her, not again. Even if you hate me, sir. I promised Kairi I’d be with her for as long as she wants me, forever if I’m lucky enough. And I intend to keep that promise.”

“Forever is a long time,” Kairi’s dad pointed out, “and you’re only seventeen. How am I supposed to believe you’re serious about her?”

“Would you believe me if I asked for your daughter’s hand in marriage?”

Kairi turned to Sora so quickly she thought her neck would snap. She felt her heart pounding in her ears. Did Sora really…?

“Her hand in marriage? Really? You think I’d believe that you didn't come up with that on the spot just to shut me down?”

Sora let go of her hand and fumbled with his pocket for a second before pulling out a small velvet box. Kairi gasped and her eyes shifted between Sora and her dad.

“Sir? May I ask you for your daughter’s hand in marriage?”

There was an unreadable expression on her dad’s face, then he sighed.

“Guess you are serious after all. Then it’s clearly not my choice to make. However,” he added, staring Sora down, “you better make her happy. I never want to see her cry again because of you. Understood?”

Kairi thought she saw something like respect flash through her dad’s eyes when Sora didn’t even flinch before replying.

“I swear on my life, sir.”

“... Then go on. Ask her.”

Kairi’s eyes widened, but before she could truly realize that her father had given Sora his blessing, Sora was kneeling in front of her. The velvet box was now snapped open, revealing a delicate silver band with a paopu-shaped mount that held a diamond in the middle.

“Kairi. I love you more than anything in all the worlds, and ever since you’ve brought me back, I’ve known that I wanted to be with you. Forever. I don’t care how long I have to wait, be it a year, a decade, a lifetime. I just need to know that I’m yours—and you’re mine. Will you marry me?”

“I’ve been yours ever since you drew that paopu, dummy,” she replied with tears in her eyes and her favorite smile spread on Sora’s face. He reached for her hand, gently sliding her engagement ring on her finger. Her engagement ring.

She was engaged to Sora!

Kairi let herself fall into Sora’s arms, and despite knowing that her dad was watching, she caught his lips in a heated kiss and poured all of her love and affection for him into it, right up until they both desperately needed to breathe again, only for him to lift her up and spin her around with a happy laugh.

“Congratulations my laddie!”

Surprised by the familiar voice, Sora let Kairi down gently and turned to the living room. Kairi’s mom stood in the doorway with a very pleased expression on her face. And next to her, barely reaching her hips was…

“Mr. McDuck. It’s so nice to meet you,” Kairi’s dad greeted his guest with a handshake and the duck chuckled.

“Uncle Scrooge is quite alright. Likewise, nice to meet ye! Well, bless my bagpipes, I expected a business meeting tonight, not an engagement party. Sora!”

Uncle Scrooge waddled over to Sora and Kairi and shook Sora’s hand.

“You’re lookin’ hale and hearty.” His smile turned into a sly grin that reminded Kairi of Donald. “And this lovely young lassie is...?”

“This is Kairi, my girl—,” Sora stopped himself and his eyes went wide. He turned to her, his gaze searching for the ring on her finger, and upon finding it, the most radiant smile she had ever seen broke out on his face. He reached for her hand, closing his own around it, and squeezed tightly. “—my beloved fiancée.”

[possum-rat]

(Y/n) talks to the dead

Previous 

Next

Normally waking up to the Undead hovering over you would scare anyone shitless. But (Y/n) was slightly less startled. "SHI-WHA? WHO ARE? WHAT?" (Y/n) yelps as they fall out of the bed in a mess of blanket and clothes. Two skeletons stand on either side of their bed staring blankly at the opposite wall. Chain mail armor on the one stationed on the left side of (Y/n), and an odd mixture of gold and neitherite on the right. The one on the right turns toward (Y/n) before crouching down as holding out a hand toward them.

(Y/n) takes it hesitantly staring up at them. "Wha?" They murmur as the skeleton nods a slight smile in place. "I'm Violetta Beaux. If that's what you're wondering my dear." They state simply in a soft tone. Violetta then gestures toward the chain mail wearer and says fondly "that's Isidora Blanc" Isidora merely nods as their mentioned.

"Why are you here? I mean- I don't mean to be rude or anything but..." (y/n) trails off confusion evident in their expression. "Clementine told us," Violetta replies gently. Nodding still confused (Y/n) lets the covers fall from their shoulders. Stepping from the mess of blanket under them they walk toward the bathroom.

--

Staring at the mirror intently they sigh. Their once (S/c) now more grey and sunken. Dark purplish rings under their eyes with a crazed look. Reaching their hand up (Y/n) gently presses the purplish-pink swollen delicate skin. Breathing out in pain (Y/n) removes their hand before testing their nose. Nothing seems to be broken, just a little swollen or painful. Pulling out a washcloth (y/n) dampens it and cleans the dried blood from their face.

Feeling slightly better (Y/n) turns on the shower before heading into their 'Room' and grabbing some clothes: a tan trench coat stopping at (Y/n) thighs, a white collared shirt, grayish-black jeans, and long socks with their favorite boots. (perfect for kicking any super straights)

Once finished with the shower they pull on the clothes in the privacy of the bathroom. Mentally (Y/n) thanks themselves for placing the bathroom into a room with a door away from any visitors. As (Y/n) steps out of the bathroom the smell of freshly baked bread greets them.

grinning to themselves (Y/n) notices that Violetta is beside the furnace pulling out a loaf of golden bread. "(Y/n)? Oh hey dear! I made bread. Here take some!" She says cheerfully as she places the loaf on the small kitchen island. Isidora seems to be slightly more emotional than before as she gazes at the bread. Staring at the bread (Y/n) asks "You can make bread?" Isidora replies gruffly "Best at it. She also makes a killer cake."

As Violetta pulls out a giant Long sword she hums happily as she slices the bread with the sword. The whole sight is comical. As (Y/n) takes a slice of the bread they take a bite and proceeds to melt. You know the kind? Like when you eat something so good you've literally just ascended to heaven momentarily-yeah that's what the bread tastes like.

"Told you," Isidora says simply. By the time (Y/n) ate around half the loaf with the other two they've gotten a message from Wilbur.

<WilburSoot> (Y/n) help. Tubbo and Tommy are on a tangent.

smiling slightly (Y/n) stands up from the chair and makes their way toward their chest. Squatting down they pull out their sword and a few potions. Violetta stops (Y/n) before they leave. "Dear take some armor I have an extra unused she's plate and helmet. Stay safe okay hun? Isidora will go with you." (Y/n) nods and waits patiently-well as patiently as one with horrible attention spans can-

"and here you go, hun." She says as she hands an enchanted netherite chest plate and helmet to them. (Y/n's) eyes widen as the heavily enchanted armor falls into their ownership. "You can't-Are-wha-" they stutter as Isidora takes the armor from (Y/n) and gently places it onto (y/n) making sure it fits snugly. "Come on kid. I'm your bodyguard or some shit today. Come on."

---

as the two of them walk into L'manberg Wilbur freezes staring at Isidora. "(Y/n)? Your aware that there's a skeleton standing beside you?" (Y/n) nods and says "Yup. They're my grumpy bodyguard or something!" Isidora did not like being called grumpy apparently as (Y/n) yelps as Isidora punches (Y/n's) shoulder.

"I- uh okay. Anyway, Tubbo and Tommy are over there mind watching them?" Wilbur asks tiredly as he rubs the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

(Y/n) nods and skips toward them happily. "No, He's always like...Psst hey, kid...wanna buy some content? Do we have manhunts? Or speed runs." Tommy laughs as he does a horrible American accent. (Y/n) chimes in "įⱮ Ⱥ ꝈįͲͲꝈƐ φįϚϚ βȺβӋӋӋӋӋ" Tubbo coughs in audio tune before dying with laughter. Tommy does his famous cackle. "What the actual fuck?" Isidora murmurs as she stands a few feet away. Tubbo frowns tilting his head confused his long brown ears flopping down.

"what? I just heard a series of tapping?" Tubbo says confused. "Oh, she just said " what the actual fuck." She's nice that way." (Y/n) says happily.

Isidora frowns while flipping (Y/n) off. "Yeah Love you too bitch." They call grinning.

Tubbo frowns and asks "Wanna go to the nether?" (Y/n) nods but freezes momentarily as everything suddenly grey. Like a cave. But instead of the normal ruggedness of a cave, it's like a box. (Y/n) shivers as they gaze around at the freezing room. A small Fox is curled up in one of the corners along with a brown spotted cow. As (y/n) walks closer the Fox opens an eye before closing it in disinterested. An arrow sticks out from its coat staining the white fur on its throat rusty red.

"Fungi?" (Y/n) asks in awe. The Fox yawns before nuzzling closer to the cow. The cow opens its down brown eyes before giving a soft content "Moo." Gasping in delight (Y/n) cheers "Harold?" The cow thumps his tail before standing up unsteadily and clopping toward (Y/n).

Harold bobs his head as he moves toward them, stopping infront of them he nuzzles into (Y/n's) outstretched hand. As (y/n's) fingers brush over the slightly rough texture of Harold's fur they blink.

The stone claustrophobic-inducing box is no more. Instead (Y/n) is surrounded by people in chairs staring up at a podium. A Man with curly Horns with various golden trinkets stands there. He's clearly slightly hungover.

"That was pretty easy. And you know what I said, the day I got unbanned from the DreamSMP, and the day I said I was running... an election that I won by the way?" The man's voice booms deep and clear demanding to be heard "I said; "Things are gonna change". I looked every citizen of L'Manberg in the eyes and I said; "You listen to me... this place will be a lot different tomorrow." Let's start making it happen. My first decree, as the president of L'Manberg- the EMPEROR! of this great country-! Is to REVOKE the citizenship of WilburSoot, (Y/n) and TommyInnit! Get 'em outta here! Get 'em outta here! You're no longer welcome!"

All though (Y/n) may not understand what's going on they have enough sense to stand up from their seat and bolt. Isidora stands on the outskirts of L'manberg waiting under the shelter of a tree. Isidora straightens up upon seeing (Y/n). She sighs and holds out a hand. Voices of the deceased begin screaming in (Y/n's) head.

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU LEAVING?

"HELP THEM"

"STAY HOME"

"STAY"

"run"

As Isidora's hand closes around (Y/n's) they're suddenly wrenched from L'manberg, and back home. (Y/n) pulls their hand from Isidora's grip to press their palms into the sides of their head. "Please- make it stop." They whisper. Their eyes claimed shut as they press their back against the wall sliding down. Schlatt's voice echos loudly "Oh, it was so easy! Until further notice... WilburSoot and TommyInnit are merely a memory of L'Manberg. A relic- A relic of the past. A reminder, of the darkest era this country, has ever seen- and I guarantee you all; dear citizens... Tonight, that changes. We are entering into a new period of L'Mangerg- a period, of prosperity! of strength! of unity."

Sitting down for a few minutes they stand up before rubbing their eyes and turning toward the two women and saying quietly "Stay here. Please I don't want either of you to get hurt." they state with a certain authority that none of the three knew (Y/n) possessed. (Y/n) then walks toward their chests before digging out the materials needed. Choosing to take their half-finished crossbow, and sword, along with the armor they were currently wearing, a few potions, and pick along with food, as they walk toward the door they hesitate before returning to the chest and pull out a few End pearls along with their totem.

----

At around 3 am (Y/n) finds a half-assed base. Sighing slightly they duck into the base holding up their hands in surrender as a sword is healed to their throat. It doesn't help that the voices are still shouting. And expressing their distaste or agreement at the current predicament.

"Jesus (Y/n) where the hell have you been?" Wilbur sighs as he makes eye contact with them.

"Went by my base to grab some stuff we'll need. No, we aren't going to my base." They say as they sit atop the crafting table beside Tommy. Leaning back against the wall they glance down at Tommy. He's visibly distressed. (Y/n) taps the air infront of them withdrawing a potion of their own creation they like to call "Anti-Insomnia, sleep your problems away :)"

Pulling out a small vile of it they grab 2 cups that for some reason Wilbur had. Pouring a few drops into the cups they hand them to each of their accomplices saying "It'll help you sleep. It'll take your mind off of it." Tommy nods and asks "Wait you know Greek mythology right? Didn't you and Techno talk about it?" (Y/n's) lips curve into a faint smile at the memories.

they nod and ask "Yeah. I remember that." Wilbur asks "what's your favorite story?"

they nod before thinking. "Eros and Psyche." The words fall from their lips effortlessly. As (Y/n) begins to ramble they stare at the opposite wall.

"Psyche is a princess so beautiful that the goddess Venus becomes jealous. In revenge, she instructs her son Cupid to make her fall in love with a hideous monster; but instead, he falls in love with her himself." Tommy's head lolls before falling against (Y/n's) shoulder. (Y/n) tenses up slightly but upon realizing that it's only Tommy they continue.

"He becomes her unseen husband, visiting her only at night. Psyche disobeys his orders not to attempt to look at him, and in doing so she loses him. In her search for him, she undertakes a series of cruel and difficult tasks set by Venus in the hope of winning him back. Cupid can eventually no longer bear to witness her suffering or to be apart from her and pleads their cause to the gods. Psyche becomes an immortal and the lovers are married in heaven."(More info: here ) (Y/n) finishes their story glancing down at Thomas.

"hey? (Y/n)? How's Lilith doing?" Wilbur asks quietly. (y/n) freezes before rubbing their face and rubbing the faint scar on their neck. "No clue." Wilbur frowns and asks "What'd you mean?" He asks as he shifts to a more comfortable position. "Haven't seen her since she broke our engagement...rather brutally for my taste. Like I understand sure, I may not be the best person but burning down a house then murdering your fiancé? That's a bit much even for me. Like where's the pizzazz?" (Y/n) laughs quietly as they stand up and pull off their coat draping it over Tommy.

Wilbur frowns. "Wait. You only have one life?" He asks. (Y/n) nods as they rummage in their pocket before pulling out a small simple ring with a frog upon the center. Slipping it onto their finger with the other array of various rings they stretch and turn toward Wilbur. "Jesus Christ (Y/n). You need to be careful!" Wilbur chides. (Y/n) narrows their eyes at him before grumbling quietly "yeah yeah."

---

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Find the Word tag

I was tagged by @enchanted-lightning-aes - thank you!

I have delved back into Archipelago (because it contains every word under the sun) to find the words: slip, share, sing, show, and sink.

Slip

Jin had always been a fast walker, a gift from an upbringing where it had paid to be fast, but never paid quite enough to eat well. She was built like a normal person stretched out; like a weed straining towards the light. A slip of a girl, as her mother used to say. It had helped her slip through the hands of the executors, and therefore to keep both of her own. It was always better to run. Jin had a quick tongue and a quicker knife, but the executors were trained to hunt people like her. They tended to be people with broad shoulders and narrow minds.

Share

Many explorers hadn’t come back to share their findings at all. Perhaps they’d reached the end of that line, one way or another. Or perhaps it had been something else, something worse. In the Age of Sails the seas had been plagued with fleets of pirates and marauders, and although the islands had worked hard to capture them some still lurked in the shallow waters of the straits, like snapping turtles hiding in a marsh.

But there were also sharks with fins like sails above the surf, sea snakes more venomous than any on the land, and rumours of other things that even the mavens hadn’t dared to confirm. Their maps had legends, and only legends took over where they stopped.

Sing

It was the way things had to be. Lan had taught himself how to sing from his stomach, adding depth and volume to his voice, but he knew better than to sing from his heart. Drawing on his real emotions would make his performance more powerful still, lending real passion to his ballads to lost love, a heart-wrenching voice that wavered and broke, but in the process it could cost him everything he had.

Show

“Hang on, I have something to show you.” Bea slipped a hand into the open bag, but all she felt was its soft felt lining. Where was it?

“Fine, I get it, you were right.”

“No, I don’t have the pouch, it’s something else.” She swung the bag around to look in, rummaging with both hands. The list had been tiny, and could have easy gotten stuck to the sides, or curled up in a corner.

Lysander peered over as she searched. “It looks like a bag full of nothing to me. A selection of the palace’s famous dusty air? Or is this your grudging way of admitting I was right?”

Bea took a deep breath, then rounded on him. “There’s going to be a battle,” she said.

Sink

As he drifted off to sleep in the darkness of his cabin, rocked from side to side in Serena’s lullaby, Aden dreamt of his death. From the moment his eyes closed, he was back in the water, watching his own younger body sink. He saw limbs dancing in the dark, his mid-length hair floating over his shoulders, spreading like ink spilt in the water. The effect was that of an old leaking quill, with his body the tattered feather and his head the bleeding tip, his mouth writing silent words that could only be washed away.

I am tagging @pluttskutt @akindofmagictoo @dontjudgemeimawriter and anyone else who wants to play along. Your words are thank, thick, think, trust, and truth.

[hydraulicfluidinmyteapot]

Pirates of the Caribbean

This is an ask from @shrigma-male​, but i accidentally deleted the ask.. so sorry! I am high key excited to get an ask about this topic, as the Pirates of the Caribbean ride is probably one of my earliest animatronic centric obsessions. not only is it one of the earliest and most impressive feats of Imagineering, it also remains solid to this day. it houses a great many iconic animatronic figurines, all of which work together in perfect harmony to capture beautifully life filled scenes of a cohesive storyline. Its individual ride concept was so strong that it birthed a line of clones and even a famous movie franchise. isn’t that sick? a RIDE was the key source material for a whole movie series! but it’s unsurprising, with the time and care poured into the ride. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you think about it, the ride is JAM PACKED so there is a LOT to talk about. This will only be a super brief post information-wise, but who knows? There may be more to come if this performs well. Apologies, my life’s not going great at the moment and i don’t have a lot of spare time so this is not as high a quality as i would like it to be.

Here’s my fast fact file on it!

Debut: March 16, 1967

Withdrawal: All rides are still operating

Attraction: The Pirates of the Caribbean 

Locations: Disneyland, Magic Kingdom, Tokyo Disneyland, Disneyland Paris, Shanghai Disney (but this one’s heavily modified)

Attraction Type: Dark ride

Riders Per Vehicle: 23–24

Number of vehicles:  50

Animatronics: 119 ish but it depends on the ride version

Ride videos: The entire ride varies from version to version and different people want to see different parts. i’m leaving you guys to find your own ride videos. it’s a very popular ride, just type on in to youtube and you’ll find heaps of nice high quality ones. 

The thing that stands out about this ride is the theming and the sheer amount of effort put in to creating an immersive environment. the ride houses an impressive 119 audio animatronics, 53 of which are animals. There are 630,000 gallons of water in the ride (original Disneyland) and takes three whole days to drain. there are over 40,000 gold coins in the treasure room scene alone. It holds what could possibly be considered Disney’s first themed restaurant which can be seen at the start of the ride. It is objectively one of the coolest things I’ve ever ridden. I want to call specific attention to the boat scene, where cannons fare at each other from opposite ships, creating glowing impacts and throwing water about. the first time I rode it it ensnared my attention and completely suspended my disbelief.The ride system is based on the one used in it’s a small world, due to that rides incredible success in debuting a boat-based transport system. Although I hate it’s a small world with a burning passion and refuse to write anything on it, I must be forced to admit that it did wonders as a test on how to create a good dark ride, emphasising key features such as a high rider capacity, boat-based transport system, and proving that animatronics are an incredibly attractive key event. Since the 60’s when it debuted, the Pirates of the Caribbean ride has gone through many changes throughout its location, including entire scenes being added and removed. but what it has maintained throughout its historic run time is its notoriety and splendour. the key change that I will bring up is the 2006 and 2007 renovations that include more theming from the very successful movie franchise. slightly unrelated, but the song “Yo ho, a pirate’s life for me” was actually first written for the ride. The rides are all being constantly updated in minor ways whether it’s slightly improving the animatronics, touching up background details or changing costuming. I’ll attach here a brief sort of timeline of the ride that I’ve whipped up here, but it only touches on the most notable modifications. sorry about how crap-tier it is..

Now, to talk more specifically about animatronics. The animatronics used on this ride are some of the earliest made by Disney. some are really quite basic, with their full range of motions being a singular full body action such as raising and lowering out of a barrel, but others move heads and arms in (sort of) lifelike actions. Some are newer, (specifically captain Jack Sparrow), but most are the original ones from the 60’s. One of my (and everyone’s tbh) favourites is the redheaded lady. She is (very originally) named Redd. Previously she was being sold off for auction, but in 2018 she was swapped to being an auctioneer. She has stunning red curls and a beautiful dress to match, and now holds a gun. here’s a little before and after.

 in the same refurbishment that changed her the mist screen in the tunnel before the fort battle was removed and replaced with a pirate in a cage who turns into a skeleton via an optical trick as well as an octopus playing with some medallions, along with the original 1967 narration about cursed treasure being restored. Her new version is based off none other than Anne Bonny herself (worth a google, she’s a fucking BOSS (like seriously!! Queer history icon!!! LOOK 👏 HER 👏 UP 👏 )) . She’s also displayed in dead man’s cove in a portrait, which I think is kinda neat. Her Paris version is completely silent, but the others yell about selling rum. Sadly I have never actually seen the new Redd in person, as I have only ridden the ride in Tokyo (where she is still being sold).

Now, the barker bird! oh how I love him so <3 he’s a little green pirate parrot, who spent his days crying about the ride. he was originally in the queue area but got kicked outside eventually to help deal with crowd control. he was then gotten rid of in 2006 in the big movie refurb. He was remarkably similar to the original barker bird who resided outside of the Enchanted Tikki Room; however, the pirate version has a peg leg, eye patch, tattoo on his chest and wondrously villainous hat. he was originally based off of Captain Flint, the parrot from Treasure Island. It is theorised that he has a skeletal clone inside the ride; the parrot belonging to “the Dirty Feet pirate”. 

When you first get on the ride, the first animatronic you come across is Old Joe. he is an animatronic character used in multiple different attractions, including Liberty Belle Riverboat, The Western River and Mark Twain Riverboat. in each version, he lives in a shack and is associated with the banjo. I say associated because it is actually a really common misconception that he actually plays the banjo. he does not, it is just a dark scene and there is banjo music playing around him. you can see the tip of his pipe glowing as you approach it in the ride, lit up alongside the fireflies. he is a small taste of what is to come.

Barbossa replaced the original pirate captain of The Wicked Wench in the boat battle scene in the mass movie renovation. he is my tied favourite with the redhead, as his dialog adds so much to the scene. his character moves in a beautiful fashion, lit up by a spotlight. His face is artfully painted, capturing what I believe to be the most human expression in the entire ride. His boat is fighting a Castillo del Morro fortress of Isla Tesoro, whilst busy searching for treasure and presumably captain jack sparrow. in 2011 his WDW version’s outfit was swapped over to his privateer uniform from On Stranger Tides, to keep the ride tied to the movies. What can be considered quite odd is that in Paris’s later renovation, the Captain did not replace the Wicked Wench captain, and was rather added in to a scene at the end of the ride, in the skeleton grotto. he is standing on the shipwreck beside the skeleton helmsman, carrying a lantern. 

The auctioneer. I don’t like him. greasy man. his eyes are wild. He’s originally voiced by Paul Frees (an icon, a legend) and is inspired by Captain Bartholomew Roberts (considered the most successful pirate in the golden age of piracy. He is also a pirate from the ship The Wicked Wench, and his auction is set up near a canteen called "La Cantina”. very creative. He was originally selling brides (human trafficking, not very snazzy) but now he sells chickens he stole from townspeople. however, this is unsuccessful. In the Paris version, instead of the chickens he is trying to sell a painting of Jean Laffite. Funnily enough, Jean is one of Disney’s sort of “stand in” pirate characters that they frequently just use whenever they need a pirate to slide in. Unfortunately, the auctioneer is always kept relatively up to date with the shiniest, newest technology that Disney can spare, and is always one of the most advanced figures on the ride. doesn’t deserve it, he’s slimy and I don’t like him. I should probably mention that he doesn’t actually have a name other than the auctioneer. There’s also a clone of him used in the haunted mansion for the duelling animatronics. loser. 

This is a very long post, so I shall cut it here. I will leave you with an image gallery, further reading and a possible promise of a part two if this post does well. Thank you!

(ok so i actually haven’t got any further reading gathered yet. give me like 6 hours and ill fix it in an edit. i promise. i just want to get this post out asap)

[phoenix-downer]

The Princess of Light Chapter 5: A Grieving Prince

~1840 words. Angst, Romance, Fluff, Fairy Tales. For SoKai Week 2021, Day 5.

Summary: Princess Kairi is cursed to be without love when she is a baby. She grows up cold and without a heart to help her understand other people’s feelings, no matter how hard her parents try to help her. One day, however, she meets a mysterious prince from a faraway world, and he just might hold the key to breaking her curse.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Fairies age much more slowly than humans, so when the king and queen met with the Violet Fairy about what was happening, she hardly looked a day older than she had at Princess Kairi’s christening. They were in her little house at the edge of the castle town, which was surrounded by the prettiest violets and forget-me-nots you’d ever seen. Most fairies preferred seclusion, but the Violet Fairy liked living near people and letting children play in her garden. 

Right now, however, the garden was full of royal guards. The Violet Fairy set dainty tea cups containing her famous violet tea out for her royal guests. Nothing helps a difficult conversation like some nice, warm tea, a principle the fairy lived and swore by. Once the king and queen were sipping their tea and the guards also each had a cup, she sat down to discuss why they had come.

“To answer your question, Your Majesties,” she began, “I suspect the light is draining from the pool because the Heart of the World has been injured.”

This news alarmed the king. If the Heart of the World was injured, the very world itself might die, and as its guardian and ruler, he had to do something about it. 

“But how?” the queen asked. “The Heart is buried deep underground and has a series of enchantments protecting it from harm.” 

“That may be,” the Violet Fairy said, “but the very strongest, wickedest types of dark magic might have found a way around those protections. Otherwise the pool wouldn’t be draining.” At this she turned to the king. “Fairies are forbidden from learning such magic because it would corrupt us like it has corrupted your sister, so I cannot say what has happened exactly, but that is my best guess.”

“Maleficent,” the king spat. “Of course. This has to be her doing. She despises Kairi and always has.”

The queen nodded. “We think she’s jealous of Kairi because Kairi will be queen someday. No matter how far we banish Maleficent, she keeps tormenting us.”

“My advice to you would be to find the Heart of the World as soon as possible,” the Violet Fairy said. “See if it is indeed wounded. If so, then you must search for some way to save it, or the very world will die, along with your daughter.”

The king and queen sent a group of soldiers to check on the Heart of the World in its cavern underground. When they reached it, the Violet Fairy’s hunch proved to be true: the Heart of the World was indeed smaller and less vibrant than it had been before, and that only happens if it has been wounded. So the king and queen ordered for every inch of Radiant Garden to be searched for a way to restore it. In the end a group of children found the answer, as it had washed up on the shore of Radiant Garden’s only sea. It was a small lucky charm, and it was made up of five thalassa shells. A curious sight indeed, for thalassa shells were native to Destiny Islands, not Radiant Garden.

On the lucky charm was engraved the following: 

Should the Heart of the World beat slow

And the light of the earth cease to flow

There is only one way to make things right

A young man must pour out his light 

Pour and pour till his heart beats no more

Only then will light flow from river to shore

The words of the lucky charm made the king and queen very sad. They didn’t want to ask anyone to die, but the world was doomed if they did not, and Kairi would surely die as well. The king wanted to offer himself up, but he didn’t fit the description, and neither did the queen. 

So it was with heavy hearts they made the announcement and sent the proclamation throughout Radiant Garden. A day went by, and not a single person volunteered. Two days, and Kairi’s condition took a turn for the worse. On the third day, the king retreated to the woods where the royal family owned a cottage to think about what to do. 

Now, Prince Sora had gone home to speak to his parents about how to help Princess Kairi. He was shocked to return to Radiant Garden to find the entire world in a state of mourning as the light pool shrank to a puddle while the hole in Kairi’s chest grew bigger and bigger and her skin colder and colder. 

He went to the inn where he’d stayed the first time, and on the door he saw the proclamation from the king and queen. With trembling hands he pulled it down and wandered into his room as if in a daze. No matter how many times he read the proclamation, his mind still spun and his heart pounded in his chest.

“I can’t let her die. If she dies, life is hardly worth living. But if I die,” at this Sora’s voice cracked a little, for he saw no way out of it; till his heart beats no more seemed rather clear, “she, along with the rest of the people of this world, will be saved.” His hand curled around the proclamation. “I’ve made up my mind, then. I’ll talk to her parents about being the sacrifice.”

This was how Sora ended up at the king’s cottage in the woods after the sun had set. The autumn breeze made him shiver after experiencing the warmth of his home world, but he steeled his nerves and knocked on the wooden door.

“Who goes there?” the king asked, rather irritably, for anything that wasn’t helping him solve his daughter’s dire state was a nuisance at best. 

When he opened the door, he was quite surprised to see a young man waiting just outside. Sora bowed low, as was proper when greeting a king. In fact he bowed as low as a servant would bow. He lowered himself to his hands and knees and bent his head, for he wanted to show how serious he was about saving Princess Kairi.

“Your Majesty, my name is Sora, and I have an offer to make.” 

At this, Sora fell silent, and a few agonizing moments ticked by till the king groaned. “Stop being cryptic and come out with it,” he said at last, pulling Sora to his feet. “My daughter is dying, the world’s in danger, and I haven’t got all day.” 

“Your dying daughter is why I’m here,” Sora said quietly. “I heard you need someone to restore the Heart of the World.”

“Are you offering?” the king asked, raising an eyebrow.

“On one condition.”

The king nearly lost his temper completely, for he couldn’t understand why Sora wouldn’t just put out all of his terms at once when the circumstances were so dire. “Out with it, boy!”

“I’d like Princess Kairi to keep me company as I give up my light.”

The king’s eyes widened; this was not the sort of request he’d been expecting. Bold of the boy to ask, but his voice was unwavering, and he refused to look away.

“And if it’s not too much to ask,” Sora continued, his voice growing stronger with every word, “I’d like her to tend to me when I’m hungry and thirsty. I want to make sure I… survive long enough to complete the ritual.” 

Restoring the Heart of the World sounded like it would be a very grueling task, because Sora knew the Heart must be much larger than his own. Would his light be enough, or would he fail? There was only one way to find out, and he wanted to make sure he made enough preparations to see this through.

“That can be arranged,” the king said, for he was not about to turn away his one shot at saving his daughter and his kingdom. “We can send food and drink down into the cavern where the Heart of the World is. After you begin the ritual, Kairi will feel better, and she can tend to you as you’ve requested. I doubt she’ll have any objections.” 

“Oh, I think she’d rather be in her light pool,” Sora said with a rueful smile. “But if you ask her to keep me company, I think she’ll say yes. She thinks very highly of you and of her mother the queen.”

Now, you mustn’t fault Sora for despairing a little, as it is a bitter thing indeed to die for someone you know doesn’t love you back. Sora was ready and willing to do so, but a part of him still wished Kairi would return his affection. Could return his affection. He remembered that night he tried to explain to her what love was, how she seemed so curious and eager to understand, how she just couldn’t grasp it.

“I know it’s because of her curse,” Sora said, his voice low and his heart heavy, “but I wish… ah, nevermind. I’d die without her, but she’ll live happily without me. That’s just… how things are.”

The king thought he saw tears shining in Sora’s eyes, though he couldn’t say for sure. He’d been silent up till now because he was beginning to grasp why Sora would be willing to do this when no one else would, and the thought of sending this poor young man to die… 

Then he thought of Kairi’s cold, stiff form as his sister’s curse ate away at her. Thought about leaving her to die to spare this young man. Sora himself had said he’d rather die than let that happen, so the king could hardly stop him. Nor did he want to if it meant Sora’s sacrifice would save his daughter.

“Thank you for doing this for her,” he said to Sora. “For all of us.”

Sora nodded. “I’ll go to the cavern tomorrow morning.”

The king returned to his wife and daughter and explained that someone had volunteered to save Kairi. She perked up for the first time in days when she heard that the light would be returned to her pool. She was so sick that she didn’t register that it would be due to another person giving up his light; all she could think about was feeling better. The king and queen were relieved too, relieved that their daughter would be spared and the world saved.

Sora felt the opposite of relieved and slept very poorly, but he was driven by a quiet determination to see this through. He awoke the next morning and put on his best clothes, clothes befitting a prince, for if he was going to die, he wanted to die like a king.

With that, he set out for the cave where the Heart of the World was located. When he reached it, he took one last look at the world around him. One last look at the sun and clouds and sky. Then he took a deep breath and lowered himself into the cavern.

[iwannaholdyoutight-]

Pintaga (a summer fic challenge)

Fresh fruit. Friends to lovers. Longing.

a/n: it’s finally here! This piece of writing couldn’t happen without the one and only @helladirections. She organized this amazing challenge and you guys should read everything from her and this challenge. Please, don’t forget to reblog, this is my first fic in a very long time and I would love to see people reading it.

word count: 8k

Preview:

In the air Harry could smell the jasmines, coming from the perfume of the girl with the blue heart shaped sunglasses and dressed with a yellow one piece with little white flowers sewed to it - a vintage piece she got just the day before on a thrift shop when they were exploring. He could listen to the faint Mick Jagger voice repeating the verse “pretty pretty girl” and he couldn’t disagree, she was a pretty girl indeed.

There was nothing he wanted more than get her in his arms, tell her he didn’t know it was possible to fall in love without even kissing the person for a first time. He wanted to press his nose into her neck and feel the shivers that would pass through her body.

When Harry had to postpone his tour, he was sad. But, when 2021 finally came, he was just so happy to be able to reconnect with his fans. To see people’s faces and knowing that each person has their own story to tell when they listen to his songs. He loves that. 

It was during tour that he met Angelino, a new music producer with very different methods in his technique: zither in a mix with glam rock, alfaias with hip hop. To put it short: they became fast friends when they met on a night out after the Vegas show. 

And it was thanks to Angelino he met her. It was raining so much when the words left his friends mouth “I want you to meet someone” yet she was the sunshine walking inside the hotel. 

She wasn’t shy but also didn’t do everything to draw any attention to her. Harry was captivated to say at least. Maybe was her smile or maybe was the way she looked with such care when taking to anyone. Sadly, they couldn’t see each other for longer than a few hours. Harry had a plane to catch, she was a movie and arts major in Italy and was only there to visit a friend. But Harry just couldn’t let her go, there was something about her, he wanted to know what was hidden behind those colorful outfits she wore and all the smart talk they had during that same rainy afternoon. Being in his position he had to be careful, what he would give to be “normal” for just 5 minutes so he could flirt with this cute girl, get her number and maybe ask her on a date. But he wasn’t. So he settled with an Instagram follow and a promises she would dm him books and movies he should check it up. 

The first book she made him read was Dorian Gray - she was shocked to know he never read anything by Oscar Wilde. In exchange he tried to make this curious stubborn girl give Murakami a second chance (she still hates the book and he couldn’t lie, he got a bit sad about it). 

After a few months of conversation he finally gave in and asked for her number. From this day on, they would never stop texting each other, to the point Jeff would complain about how “he’s always on his phone and never actually listening”. 

He got so close to her and was admired with how free she was. After 20 something years stuck in her hometown she decided she wanted to met the world. Entered this course in Italy with a scholarship (she is very smart to the point it Harry is intimidated) and never looked back. 

Harry told her about his first big break up, that inspired Fine Line, told her about his fears and how love is a difficult subject when it comes to him. The loving part it’s easy the problem is when the enchantment dies and all there is left are two broken people. The one to move on first it’s always the happiest. 

But he couldn’t always live on his phone talking to this girl who makes him weak in the knees. He had interviews to attend and shows to perform. When tour finally ended, he was tired but sad, a deep space in his heart felt so empty. It’s the first time in three years he didn’t have nothing planned and he was only starting his new album in a few months. 

Harry needed a break, a nice holiday. Sadly London was cold and so was his emotions. So, when that same girl told him about this island called “Fernando de Noronha” around the South American continent and that her aunt got a house there and asked if he wanted to join her on 10 days trip there… he just couldn’t say no! 

It’s summertime whenever she is around and well… it is summertime in the south so it’s a win win for Harry, honestly. 

🐠

And that’s where Harry finds himself right now… bathing in the sun together with this amazing girl that makes him feel all mushy inside and nervous. He is almost a 30 year old man, he shouldn't be so nervous around her, but it’s inevitable. 

The moment he got off the plane, he was in love. The island was beautiful. Blue skies that mix with the blue of the ocean and the horizon. Everything seemed to be made out of glitter and rainbow colors. There was music every night, people were singing and dancing. During the day there was street fairs, boat rides and the beautiful golden light that was didn’t come only from the sun, but also a light that shined through this amazing young woman when she was laughing and trying (and failing) to play volleyball with a group of teens on the beach. They didn’t stay in a fancy hotel, they were in a simple yet beautiful house, without any neighborhood but when they went out they always went to the simplest places, surrounded by simple people. People who might know who he was, but mostly just didn’t care. Sure, he was asked to take some pictures but that was the most normal he ever felt since he was a teenager. There was a rich part in the island, lots of famous people from South America liked to spend their summer there- but for one, Harry was grateful to stay like this. 

All thanks to her...

The summer breeze in his face being exactly what he needed. He was living those sweet days of summer he was denied in 2020 because of the pandemic and in 2021 because of the tour. 

In the air Harry could smell the jasmines, coming from the perfume of the girl with the blue heart shaped sunglasses and dressed with a yellow one piece with little white flowers sewed to it - a vintage piece she got just the day before on a thrift shop when they were exploring. He could listen to the faint Mick Jagger voice repeating the verse “pretty pretty girl” and he couldn’t disagree, she was a pretty girl indeed. 

There was nothing he wanted more than get her in his arms, tell her he didn’t know it was possible to fall in love without even kissing the person for a first time. He wanted to press his nose into her neck and feel the shivers that would pass through her body. 

He wanted to kiss her and keep her forever by his side so they could be happily ever after. But Harry couldn’t. He was bad at love and he would rather have her as a friend than doing something and fucking up her as well.

“What did you say” she asked while lifting up from the towel she had on the floor, raising her sunglasses over that beautiful sun kissed hair (it was shining so much) and attentively looking at him. 

“I didn’t say a thing” was he thinking out loud? Oh my god… he is fucked if that was that case. 

“You said something about being bad at love. Why do you think that?”

Harry sat down and took a deep breath. 

“I talked to you about my love life before… I don’t think I was made for love. Some people can find love at every corner, but it doesn’t matter how hard I try, every time I think I got it right… the person just vanish out of the tips of my fingers. And I feel so bad talking about this when I know I can have anything I want, but it hurts when I’m alone in a bedroom or I’m being the third wheel again with my friends. I’m just so lonely all the time and every time I try… it just ends shitty. I get a few good songs out of it but the pain sometimes it’s just not worth it”. 

She looked at the ocean, the sun was already so high in the sky, it was probably around 11 am. Then, looking back at Harry, she gave him a weak smile. She felt like he was a mixture of everything good and he didn't deserve to feel like he wasn’t cut for love. If she could and he let her… she would give him all the love it was possible and impossible. 

“Just because it ended doesn’t mean it was bad. If it made you happy, even if just for one second, it was worth it. And even when it hurts, we always learn something.” She took a deep breath, waiting for him to say something while Harry just looked at her with soft eyes but so much sadness and sorrow behind them. He didn’t know what to say, so she decided to continue: “you know, I call it bullshit when poets say love is only good if it hurts. Love isn’t made for pain, sometimes it might happen, but love is made to give warmth and to make the soul feel like it’s being caressed in a whisper that says ‘you found me’. And there are many types of love, not all of them are made to last a lifetime”. 

He gave her a smile: 

“Do you think there is still someone to love me or have I missed my chance?” 

That was her chance: 

“I think if you look right… you will find it right next to you, so close it would surprise you” she gave him a knowing look and decided to change the subject “wanna put on some clothes and go to the street fair? We can have lunch in there, buy some nice fresh fruits and have a picnic when the sun starts to set. You can make a playlist while a set a nice towel with candles and everything we might need. Maybe… we could try some of that stuff I got yesterday, what do you say?” 

That stuff being the Argyreia seeds a friend of her had given as a gift. They were in the fridge inside a pot of water - apparently you have to leave them at least 12 hours on it so it could be ready to use. Among the effects they found of Google you could suffer from synesthesia episodes, positive elevation of your humor, sensitive to touch among others. A normal (and legal, apparently) natural hallucinogen. 

Harry decided to play cool with her confession (he thinks it was a confession) and just smirks at her as a confirmation for the rest of their day. Maybe then, he’ll have the courage to kiss her. He gets up first, offering his hand, she takes it, getting up. Being barefoot, she had to look up to talk to him, their hands intertwined, noses almost touching. Looking inside his eyes, she thinks Harry must be a magical being, that could be the only explanation to how his eyes could change color to match the nature. Normally green but right now his eyes were almost blue, maybe was the sun, maybe was the sky without a single cloud; one thing was clear: his eyes were matching the ocean and the sky but also the leaves on the palm trees with the green left in them. 

Leading the way, they got inside the house. In a secluded area (you just had to walk a lot but it wasn’t in the middle of the fancy big mansions- the house was colorful - just like everything about this island). The wood backdoor was the way they go when coming back from the beach . As soon as they entered through the gate, was a little stone way, with red and pink poppies adorning both sides, they went to the shower the house had on the outside so none of them would make a mess inside the house with sand everywhere. Then, I sei de the house, walking through the open plan kitchen, that was out of a sixties movie. Almost everything looked vintage with the most beautiful dining table they had ever seen: made out of dark wood and tall chairs, her aunt said this table was from her great grandmother. 

Then there was two little steps and it was the living room, with a lot of space, three couches and a lot of pieces of art, it looked like someone had just throw different items but, somehow made it work. Harry went to sit on a plastic chair there was right in the corner of the room and looked at the very wet very sunburnt girl:

 “You can go get ready first, I’ll wait” she smiled and thanked him, going upstairs and leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. Looking at the yellow wall full of paintings from the people of the island, he didn’t know what to do to himself, he was fucked. He got up from the chair and went to the vinyl player that stood on the far left of the living room with three boxes next to it, opening he found a lot of vinyls. Settling for one he never heard before: Caetano Veloso - Transa, he put to play. He knew about Caetano, he even putted one of his songs to play at the one night only event, the name of the song was Baby and at the time was his ex girlfriend who had showed him, but right now the only thing he could think about when listening to this very psychedelic song that was playing through the speakers, the only thing he could think about is the same girl who is taking a shower just a few feet away and how much he wants the hours to pass faster so they can get high and listen to the playlist he was making and was to add also this album he was listening, especially after a quick google research about it, having now the acknowledge that transa translates to sex. 

She came downstairs with her hair still wet, wearing her old pink converse and a yellow sundress, with the cute straps and a short but very loose ends. She had this glow someone can only achieve when you just spend the day at the beach with dear ones. Free of any makeup she was with his ray bans and gave him a soft look “I hope you don’t mind I got your ray bans to wear. They just look they were made for this outfit”. 

“No problem. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be done”. 

Taking the fastest shower he ever took in his life, he put on some old jeans short and his favorite pink summer shirt. And he ran - literally ran - downstairs because he felt like this was a date. He was excited. 

“So, wanna take the bikes or see if we can get an Uber” there was this thing, neither one of them had the license required for the island and even if the Uber app worked there… it was hard to find drivers who were willing to drive to such a far area. 

“Let’s take the bikes. They have baskets so whatever we buy we can just carry back” 

“Sure”  

They went through the front door, the house was painted in blue, to match the ocean, with lots of different plants and those same plants, especially the clambering plants, gave the house this almost fairy vibe. Like it was made of a golden and rainbow dust and everything that it’s good. The bikes were located near the wall and close to the small pool. One bike was white and the other was of a bright orange. Harry got the bright one because it was slightly bigger, so he would feel more comfortable. 

🍓

They rode the bike for around 10 minutes, passing fields and trees that were so tall it almost felt like their leaves were kissing each other. Harry kept ruming gold and braid by stevie nicks the whole ride while dividing his attention between the girl riding the white bike a few meters ahead and the surrounding area. There was no one in sight for the first few minutes, but the closer they got to the center of the island, more people started to appear. In a few days living in the island  he already observed that he could pinpoint who was a tourist and who was a native by one thing: the clothes. 

The citizens always dressed like it was just a normal day (like imagine you normal day it’s living in paradise) and people from the outside always went out like it was a beach party everyday. As soon as Harry notice that, he always made sure to dress quite simple, so people could pass him by. Of course, sometimes someone would try and talk to him with the native language (which he learned is portuguese and not spanish, as he originally thought it would be). 

They descarted their bikes on a small wall that was made for this purpose, with digital locks and everything (it was 5 bucks the hour and all you had to do when it was the time to pick it up you just put on your card to pay for the time you used the spot). They started to walk towards the street fair that was in a pretty street with old houses from the colonial era. The more they walked, closer their bodies touched and closer they were from holding hands. 

People never talk about the conversation that goes when it comes to small touches. Sometimes, a small caress of a finger against someone's hand, it’s more than the act of touching, it’s an act of questioning: are we feeling the same? I wanna hold you hand like my soul it’s holding yours, please take care of it, because it’s your to take. 

They started holding hands the moment the took a turn to the street fair, and if anyone looked at them, would say there were a couple. And it was nothing more that their entire wish that that statement was actually truth.

In the window of a red brick house there was an old man with his guitar, he sung something of their culture and a few people were dancing to it like it was a show. Harry was so in love with this environment, people lived and breathed culture. It was a break he never needed. He already went all around the world and it was on a simple island that he found something he didn’t know it existed.

“Where do you want to go first?” Asked the girl looking up at him and squirting her eyes because of the sun. She had his sunglasses but they were acting more like a headband to that mess it was her hair than to their actual function: protect her shining beautiful eyes from the sun. 

“How about we go and buy those fruit for our late evening picnic and then we go have lunch? And from there we see where to go”.

“Seems like a plan, let’s find the vendor with the most variety of fruits, wanna taste them all” And I wanna taste you, thought Harry but he just accepted it wasn’t the time yet. He didn’t want their first kiss to be in the middle of a fair with so many eyes watching. Harry hasn’t been recognized too much but he couldn’t risk too much. 

Walking they passed a group of old ladies - like maybe in their 80s- selling beautiful handmade dresses and skirts and shirts, all made in white lace. Such a beautiful work, and Harry made a mental note to come back later and get something for his mother and sister. That was something they would like. 

Finally they reached a wooden table full of different fruits and behind it was an older and a younger man, if they had to guess, they would say there were grandfather and grandchild because of their faces similarities: dark skin with very powerful green eyes. While one had the blackest hair either one of them had see, the other one had silver strings in different parts of his hair. In their mouth they carried a soonting smille. They approached the table and the older one started to talk in the native language and he was speaking in such a enthusiastic manner that Harry didn’t have the heart to explain he new close to nothing about portuguese. But the young man seemed to have noticed who he was, touching the talking fella head and saying something in his ear. He stopped talking and was, now, quiet, but never ending the smile in his face. 

“Sorry about that. My name is Sol. What can I do for you guys?” The girl beside Harry gave him this shining smile and started talking:

“Hi, Sol.That means Sun right?” 

“Yeah, my family it’s a very hippie family. Actually I have two sisters: one it’s called Lua, her name translates to ‘moon’, and the other it’s called Frida. By the way,if it’s not too much problem Mr. Styles, I would like to get an autograph for them, they are big fans of you. And what about your name, sunshine?” asked the young man. Harry was jealous he was flirting with her - and he wasn’t entitled to feel jealous, but that’s what he was feeling - so he put his arms around her and told her name getting an angry yet amused look from her. 

“And no problem about the autograph… we would like to take a bit of everything you can recommend us. We are going to do a picnic and want to try everything that it’s different”.

“But please add a bit of those gorgeous strawberries, they look yummy”said the girl next to him “ and what it’s that?” she pointed to a pink yet green round fruit. 

“That is pink mango, very famous around this island. She is sweeter than the normal ones you found, actually there are over 24 different types of mango around the south territory, but right now we only have this one. But we’ll be getting more around monday morning if you guys are interest.” He gave them a time to think if they wanted to buy it or not.

“I love mango. Put 3 of these, please.” Harry said giving a genuine smile, everybody knows how much he loves fruit… among other stuff that could be fruit related. He saw a small fruit, that looked like a cherry but it had this red/orange to it’s tone and it wasn’t completely round, so he asked: “Sol, what is this type of cherry?”

“Oh that one? That it’s pitanga. This fruit smells like trees and something sweet that takes you back to your childhood, if you lived on this island” he laughed like he was remembering a distant memory inside of his green eyes but continued soon afterward his little journey through memory lane “My mother used to say this fruit it’s like when you fall in love at first sight: first comes the infatuation, the smell that reminds you there is so much good in the world and all of the good is all in one person. Then, when you first bite to it, first it has a sour taste, like when you get insecure about first kissing someone, but they, you get the courage and kisses them… and it’s amazing and sweet.” 

Well Harry didn’t need more and said:

“Give me 12 strawberries, a few limes so we can make drinks, those mangos,a bit of that gelly that looks yummy, and half  a pound of those pitangas”

“All done. That is going to be 25 and 75 cents” Both Harry and the girl tried to pay the guy, in the end, she ended up paying, earning a glare from Harry and looking at him like saying ‘what’. The boy returned with the change and the piece of paper for the autograph, Harry signed told him he would be back monday morning to get those other types of mangos and he could bring his sisters if he wanted to,he would gladly meet the girls. 

They said their goodbyes and continued their walking, now holding hands without questioning. 

“You know out of all those fruits the one I’m more excited to taste it’s this pitanga one” she told Harry. 

“Me too”

He knew she was talking more than just the fruit.

And so was him. 

With the sound of ocean and the winds in a mix with people chatter, they walked through the fair. Stopping for a quick lunch (some natural sandwiches with coconut water to wash it down) they looked around a vintage music store.

“It’s getting late, I wanna go back to the house if you don’t mind… get some sleep so I’m not tired when it’s time for our little luau” she said looking at him with tiresome eyes “oh maybe I’ll dress like a little witch!!!! So we can perform a little moon ritual”

That put a smile in Harry’s face. 

“You know Stevie would actually love this”

“I can’t help getting a bit starstruck every time you mention Stevie Nicks”  

“I get starstruck every time I remember that I’m actually her friend... it’s inevitable, she is a legend and an amazing human being”

They were walking and talking about Stevie Nicks and Harry was telling her all about the first time Stevie listened to Fine Line and by the time they got close to their bikes. Just like yesterday, Harry was ready to pay for their bikes parking lot but she was not having it. He was always paying for every little thing (the first time she got to pay anything was the fresh fruits just a few hours ago). So she looked at him when he was lost looking at the turquose sea and just ran away towards the bike.

She heard his scream- a soft loud HEY - and just when she was reaching for the bikes she felt two arms wrap around her waist and pull her out of the way. But they both lost their balance, falling towards the wall of bricks next to the bikes. Her head hit the wall a little bit to harshly makig her let out a low “oh” all that while he crushed her into the same wall. 

Puting his hand in fits next to her face, Harry took his face off and lowered to be abble to look at the pretty girl in the eyes. He noticed she was standing on her toes to get closer to him, if he took a deep breath he could smell her perfume, a mix of peach and tangerine. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had never been as close to her as he were now. Harry was abble to see how beautiful eyes eyes were when the sun was high up in the sky and his face too close, he could see how her eyebrows had a thin yet natural draw or how her cupid bow were a little bit more colored than the rest of her lips. He could listen to the wind, bringing a message from the ocean: “it’s time to kiss her, you fool”.

He took her messy hair from her eyes, cradling her face in on hand while the other was kept on the wall, so he could have a sense of what was real. It was the perfect moment. 

Or not. 

Time simply wasn’t on Harry’s side, as he thought. Because someone started to yell at him in a language he couldn’t pinpoint the country, maybe Russia because of how pale was the old couple looked. They were point at the bikes and yelling at them, people were looking and she was blushing. 

“I think they want to park their bikes and we’re on their way” she told him “maybe we should just go home. 

 🍄

The sun was now close to say it’s farewell for the day. While Harry was busy making a nice playlist (and also giving himself a talk: “you are going to kiss her tonight”. Maybe if started to say all the time like a mantra in would come true). She was making the perfect ambience for a beach party for two. Opening in the sand a round beach towel with lots of candles for when the only light in the sky was the moon and stars. The fruits all in pretty plates made out of wood and she also melted dark chocolate - it would look cool with the strawberries. 

The sky was a mix of pretty colors: pink and purple and orange and everything that would make a perfect painting . 

She was using this old seventies skirt from her mother (a tie dye skirt with all the colors of the rainbow) and a Stevie Nicks shirt she stole from Harry the night before to sleep. Her hair was falling from her face, dancing with the wind just as her skirt. 

It was that moment that Harry made his appearance: his safe sex shirt, yellow shorts, barefoot, no rings. Smiling at her, she thought she looked like he looked like a prince out of every seventies groupies fantasies. 

Harry was holding this old radio and in his hand there was a mixtape. Only Harry would come up with the idea of using this old radio that her aunt left at the house as a source for playlist making. Spotify playlist just wasn’t enough if he wanted impress her. In the words of his friend Rob Sheffield: “mixtapes are like pictures but with sound”. 

And Harry was planing of making this evening a picture he would always remember with lovin’ care. 

“Doesn’t he looks handsome” she walked towards him to help him with settled everything he brought down. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was blushing. 

“The seeds are ready if we want to try it now” Harry said changing the subject. 

“Let’s go. It takes half an hour to kick and till then we can talk some more” 

 The seeds didn’t have any taste, almost like any pill you wash down with water. 

“Wanna eat one of those fresh fruits?” He said getting a piece of de the pitanga “quite anxious to try this one” he said getting one of the small pitanga fruits. 

At first bite it was quite bitter, he was glad Sol had told him about that. But the more he ate, the sweater it got. It was something he couldn’t describe. 

“So what do you think?”  She asked. 

“The explanation that Sol gave to us it’s the best one. It changes taste the more you get used to it. The same is with feelings, right?” 

She smiled at him and opened her mouth: “give me some then….” He got one of the fruits and feed her. But he didn’t take his hands of her, leaving there so he could feel her neck veins move with her chewing. 

“It’s so sweet in the end… almost like an orgasm”. Harry was fucked. 

The time passed and they talked about anything and everything. The sun was almost all the way down as they looked over the horizon. 

“So… is it starting to hit for you? ” she asked with a coy smile while getting herself more of the fruits. 

He saw her red lips curve around the fruit and suddenly everything was changing colors. The world was red as the fruit she was (so deliciously) tasting. Red like the passion he was beginning to feel for this carefree girl. But she... she was golden. Her aura was just shining through her. 

It’s no secret he falls in love with people with golden aura- Stevie has said so herself when he first showed her his second album - and she is shining so much he thought the sun had come down to earth. 

Maybe she was the sun, even if it the stars were starting to take their place high in the sky, she was sunshine. His sunshine. It’s never night when she’s around.

“You know, it’s starting to hit” 

“And how do you know that?” 

“You’re golden” 

She laughed at him

“Are you quoting to me a song you wrote about another woman, Styles?” 

“No. It’s your aura. It’s shining. And is golden” 

That left her with no answer. 

“What about you?”  

“What about me?” 

“Seeing anything?” 

She could see the rainbow inside his eyes. She was always attached to everything that was colorful, from a young age. And right now there was this rainbow of lights playing with her vision. And it was all because of this beautiful young man standing right in front of her. 

“Yeah, I think I can see everything” happy with her mysterious answer, she looked at the ocean. The waves were moving slow and in pretty rhythm, inviting her to dance together. 

Today all of the nature was rooting for them. Getting another pitanga she could feel the sour before the sweet. Giving her body chills. She looked at him and those chills only got stronger but so was her bravery: “will you dance with me?” she asked. 

“Well... of course young maiden I shall dance with you” he laughed at his own joke while getting up and offering his hand. 

In that moment their worlds collided: their hand were glued together seeding all of different feels from one body to another. They didn’t need to talk to understand: there was a feeling of belonging neither of them never felt even if once they thought they did. This was a moment once in a lifetime: the moment you look at someone and you see them slightly different from one minute ago. When all of the puzzles pieces starts to make sense: what they were feeling from the moment they got on this island wasn’t only attraction it was months of friendship that intertwined them towards something stronger. Something they knew it was blooming inside their chest. Something new, something exciting. 

Something beautiful.

He twirled her in his arms and then let her rest her head in his chest, right where his heart was beating so loud and fast, just for her. 

“You know it feels like the world is almost too much right now” Harry heard her say “it seems like there are more sound than before, the ocean is actually a song ya comes together with your heartbeat and when you touch me it feels like there is a more to than just a simple touch, like it’s your souls that’s touching me, you know?” He starts to caress her right arm with the tip of his finger, he wanted her to feel more of whatever this she was describing. “Or maybe that’s just the seeds talking but it just feels like something I never had before” 

God, she looked beautiful right now blushing with all the glitter around her and her lips red from all the fruits. 

It’s time. 

“I wanna taste those pitanga lips. Can I?” He asks while still caressing her arms with the tips of his fingers, getting her dizzy and seeing everything with light tones of pink, just like the shirt he wore to the street fair. She wants so much that in a moment of pure infatuation she raises her hand, feeling his chestnut curls, looking into his green eyes that looked almost a dark blue due to the lighting and finally she answered: 

“Anytime. Everywhere. Anywhere” 

He gave her a soft kind of fucked up smile, getting a good grasp of her hair and pulling her towards his mouth. 

She spent so much of her time wondering how does Harry Styles kisses but nothing could get her ready to what she felt in that moment. His lips were a bit chapped because of the sun and the weather, they both were a bit clumsy because they couldn’t feel their faces but the soft touch of his tongue contrasting with tight grasp he had on her hair was making her body feel like it was part of the sand they were standing while he was the ocean, one doesn’t belong without the other, in a painting they would always be together and if that kiss was any indication... so would be their lives. 

He gave her a small bite on the lips and laughed: “I’m so sorry, I can’t feel my lips” and she started to giggle because she couldn’t feel a lot, but she could feel him. All of him. 

“I’m so glad we finally kissed” she said in a whisper. He looked inside of her eyes before putting his eyes right on her left cheek and flicking his eye lashes while she was having a fit with laughter... everything was too much in their state of mind. And this little touch made her feel like Harry has been tickling her soft skin for hours. 

“If you’re so glad that we kissed...  you wouldn’t mind if we kissed a bit more, right?” He said in a sensual whisper in her ear while giving little bites. 

She pulled him by his hair in a hungry attack. Moaning into his mouth. Sucking his tongue. Smiling when they took small break. 

They were standing, her on the tip of her toes, trying to reach him but Harry had other plans, whispering a small “come here” he took her by the waist and made her jump so he could walk back to the beach towel and sit down with her on his lap. 

With Harry’s hips between her knees, that wasn’t a inch to separate them. All of their bodies were touching and each particle inside of them was screaming in delight. The feeling of having someone near when the mind is in such a state of inebriation was out of this world. It was paradise. 

But maybe their state of mind is just a plus because Harry is pretty sure it could be 10 am on a Sunday and she would make him feel the same way he was feeling now: completely in bliss, in a hypnotic state of mind because of her pitanga lips and the warm energy. She was his sun, his warmth when they would feel could. A little piece of magic after so much pain in love. And Harry couldn’t deny anymore: he was falling. 

She stopped kissing him and decided to give small kisses in his neck and every time he moaned she would increase the strength of this kiss. 

Harry was quite literally seeing stars, but not only the ones in the sky. He was seeing the stars coming together in a show: each constellation was dancing on its own circle of star friends. And there were always changing color: pink, golden, red, silver. 

They were dancing in a celebration because two stars that were meant to be were finally coming together as one. 

That was the moment that Harry decided that he wanted more. He pulled her out of his neck and asked: “I love that you are wearing my old shirt but there is nothing more in this world that I would love more than being able to see you without it. Can I?” 

Her response was clear: raising her hands above her hand, the - now- moonlight caressing her form when Harry took her shirt off. She was perfect, every little thing about her was just so her, from the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra to how she had this little moon necklace and a little citrine stone resting right on her heart. 

He didn’t want to lose more time, he started to give little pecks on her nipples and when Harry heard a moan and a whisper saying “finally” he just went ahead and took the everything he could from her chest inside his mouth while his hand was playing with her right breast and his other hand was supporting her back so she wouldn’t fall off his lap. 

She was seeing stars, she could feel everything and anything. His mouth was powerful, like he knew all the buttons to push and that was only the beginning. Moving her hips in circle movements she started to moan more loudly. Using one hand to pull his hair and grinding faster on his growing dick and finally earning a full on moan from her she took his head of her chest and said “I need you, please take off your clothes” 

She didn’t have to say more. After this they disrobed so fast they didn’t knew they were able. Now, completely naked, she looked at Harry with a mischievous look and went back to his lap, but before she could do anymore than that, Harry stopped her, using his force to manhandle her body to a lay down position “I promise you that I will be inside you in a moment, but first, I need to taste you, I need to hear your moans and know that’s all because of me, all because of my tongue” 

She lost her power to speak but she was pretty sure she kind of screamed “yes” without intending to. 

Harry spread her open and looked at the mess that was between her legs. He did loved tasting the pitanga. But he was pretty sure that nothing would compare to the taste of her. 

He took his finger and started to pass lightly through the inside of her right thigh and she was trembling already “this seeds are making me more sensible fuck” he heard whisper. Smirking he answered her: “oh so this is all the seeds and not me? Pet, you are breaking my heart now”. 

In a revenge he took the same finger that was caressing her thigh and passed from her opening to her clit without any warning. 

“Fuck fuck FUCK please just touch me already. My whole body is burning in flames all I can see is a burning flame” he decided to end her suffering. Taking his thumb and lazily caressing her clit in slow but strong circles. 

“Are you happy now, Pet” 

“Yes but please, give me more” 

In a responde Harry took his tongue and licked her right on her clit and started to use the tip of his finger to tease her entrance. 

Her moans started to get louder and Harry didn’t have a care anymore, just her taste. That’s the only thing that matters. 

While his lips were sucking and licking her clit his finger were working inside of her. When he wanted to change he would put his finger in her clit and would go to her pretty hole and use his tongue to tease her. 

Every time he saw she was getting closer to her orgasm, he would stop what he was doing and would just use the tip of his finger to tease her while he kissed her thigh. When her breathing was back to a more concentrated peace he would get back to give her everything he could with his tongue and finger. 

And that went on for a while: lips, tongue, fingers. Saw her getting close? Stopped for a while. 

When he was doing the pattern for the third time she signed: “I need to come, please let me come?”

 Harry wasn’t doing this to be mean, he just wanted to be the only thing she could feel and see. Wanted this to be so good she would never want to be away from him again. And when he saw her trembling lips and eyes full of tear he new she has enough, so he moved his finger in a “come here” motion while she was wetting and wetting more and more his hand, dripping down to the towel and her screams were so loud that if there was a single soul in the almost private beach, he was sure they could listen. 

When she was done he took his finger off of her linking each one of them while patiently waiting so she could get back to her state of mind and tell him what she wanted next. 

“Hey, there is a condom in the fruit basket” she said 

“You dirty little thing, were you planning all of this?” Harry said taking the condom and opening carefully. 

“No but I had my hopes up” 

She looked so perfect with the sweat on her body dancing around the moonlight, he smiled and asked sweetly: “how do you want me?”

“I want you on top, want to be able to look inside your eyes” He wanted that, too. 

“Your wish is my command” whispered Harry while settling on top of her. He stroked her face with one arm supported beside her hand. “Are you ready for me” She nodded with starry eyes and asked:

“And you, are you ready for me?”

Harry guided himself inside her, getting his mouth closer to her left ear and whispered like it was a secret and she was the only one who had the right to hear: “I have been ready for you my whole life” and then he was inside of her. While she was breathing hard, he was whispering sweet nothing in her ear, trying to calm himself, he wanted this to last.

“You can move, you know” that was all Harry needed to start to pick up his pace, making sure every time he came closer to her his pubic bone would caress her clit. She was whimpering and he was completely hers. 

He picked her leg up on his shoulder and said: “I need…. fuck…. I need to get closer to you”. She was feeling all of him stretching her a little bit more every time he pushed himself inside of her. Hitting her g spot so perfectly she was seeing stars - and this time was all because of him, not the seeds. 

Her body was on fire and the delicious warmth was starting to form in the pit of her stomach. She was going to come again, and she was going to come hard. 

“Come on, baby. I can feel you squeezing me so hard. I know you wanna come. I need to feel it” Harry said, his movements becoming each time more out of rhythm, chasing his own peak. 

Bringing his hand to her clit, it was only three flicks of his fingers till she was shaking and her eyes were closing. Her mouth forming a delicious smile, one full of satisfaction. And it was watching her come that Harry felt his need to come as well. Closing his eyes and feeling his whole body shake with release. 

The only thing surrounding Harry was her. Her name. Her smell. The feeling of her. Everything was her. 

When their breathing was back to a normal rhythm and the moon and stars were high in sky, Harry looked over her naked body laid down on all the towels, surrounded by fruits and  golden from the candle lights. He was starting to sober up and there was so much he wanted to tell her, but he settled for one single sentence: 

“You are a wonderful creation” he told her. 

“Look at you quoting Dorian Gray to me!” She said smiling lightly “Do you remember that was the first dm I ever sent you? Telling you to read that book.” 

“Of course I remember. I remember everything you ever said to me” he started laughing with the memory “you know, after that message I went running to the closest book store? I wanted to do anything to have a reason to talk to you, even if it was just a dm. I wanted you to think of me all the time, because since that moment I saw you on that raining afternoon my heart started to beat in synchrony with yours” now it’s time to say everything, before it’s too late “you know I’m falling for you right?” 

She looked at him like he was the brightest star in the night. 

“I know, I’m falling in love with you too” she told him while laying her her on his chest and started to trace the butterfly tattoo “And now?” 

“Now I think I have a new song about another fruit to write”. They both started to smile, sealing the deal. She got another pitanga and popped into her mouth and he smiled. He was happy.

[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 10- Recipe for Love

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Bookshop/Bartender AU)

Word Count: 2,064

Summary: You and Bucky decide to host dinner for your friends and afterwards you get the best idea ever...

Author’s Note: Thank you all so very much for sticking with me and continuing to read! This has really been such an escape for me and I can never thank you enough for reading and being so kind and supportive. Thank you all for reading and much love always ❤❤❤

Warnings: sweet fluff, soft smut, fluffersmut, fun with friends :) 

Previous Chapters 

Chapter 1: Enchantment

Chapter 2: Cookie Crumble

Chapter 3: Sweet Anticipation

Chapter 4: Read Between the Limes

Chapter 5: Secrets on the Shelf

Chapter 6: Love Between the Covers 

Chapter 7: Love Lines & Soul Finds

Chapter 8: Drunk in Love

Chapter 9: Pour in onto the Page

The rest of the night goes on in a blur of soft touches, heated kisses and whispered, “I love yous.” Now that the words are out it’s as if neither of you have anything else to say. The uber ride back to Manhattan is as sugary sweet as the cotton candy you’re licking off your fingers. “Oh my god, Bucky! I forgot how good this stuff is!” you exclaim as you pull off another chunk of the spun sugar. “I know!” Bucky replies, kissing some melting pink sugar off your lips.

You giggle, trying to refrain from poking him with your sticky fingers. “Sweetheart, if you get that sticky crap stuck in my hair, we’re gonna have a problem.” Your fingers reach toward him as you hold back laughter. Bucky quickly grabs your wrist and brings your hand to his mouth, slowly sucking the sugar off the tip of each finger. “I wish we were home already,” you breathe out.

When you finally fall through the door of your apartment, you’re surprised you’re still dressed, Bucky’s hands groping you from the moment you got out of the uber. He walks you backward until you bump the small island in your kitchen, his arms lifting you up and sitting you on the countertop. Your hands card through his hair as he kneels between your legs, pushing up the skirt of your dress.

His eyes watch you as he trails kisses up your thigh, his soft hair slipping through your fingers as you try to find a hold on something. With the languid movements of his tongue he takes you apart, your body completely sated as he stands to unzip his jeans. You waste no time, helping him get them to the floor.

He enters you slowly and you feel every inch, his forehead pressed to yours while you relish in the feeling of each other. The lights from the city cast a soft glow on your skin as Bucky’s hands and mouth explore every inch with a newfound reverence.  It isn’t long before you come undone, his name a quiet plea falling from your lips.  

The next morning you find the other side of the bed empty, but the smell of freshly brewed coffee permeates the air. With a satisfied hum you throw off the covers, covering your nakedness with Bucky’s shirt. “Do you always walk around shirtless?” you ask as you enter the kitchen, Bucky’s back to you as he stands over the coffee pot.

“Are you complaining,” he croons, throwing you a look over his shoulder. “Not at all,” you say, walking over and wrapping your arms around his waist. “That smells so good! I’m so glad someone is finally using the coffee pot. I usually just get it from the café down the street.” He turns and hands you a steaming cup, asking, “you mean the little spot on West 22nd and 9th Ave?” You nod as you take your first sip, moaning at the taste.

“It’s going out of business!” You nearly spit out the delicious coffee, “WHAT?” Bucky frowns, holding you against his chest, “yeah, the new Starbucks that opened nearby is killing them.” Now it’s your turn to frown, the realization you may have to start brewing your own coffee or paying way too much for one making you angry. You take another sip, eyeing Bucky over the mug, “that’s awful. I really liked that place!”

Kissing the top of your head he says assuredly, “you have me and since you seem to approve of my coffee making skills, I think you’ll manage.” With a contented smile you reach behind him for your cookie tin, picking it up and noticing it feels way too light. “Bucky. Did you eat the last of the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies?”

Hanging his head, he doesn’t answer but it’s all the confirmation you need. “I can’t believe you didn’t even leave me one!” He tries to look sheepish but fails terribly as he checks for crumbs along his mouth. “Well, they were amazing! And I was hungry this morning!” he says in defense. “You’re lucky I love you, you know that” you say. He takes your unfinished coffee from your hands and places in on the counter. “Actually, I’m the lucky one and I love you too,” he says, before stopping any further conversation with his lips on yours.

You spend Sunday afternoon at the bookshop with Bucky, organizing some shelves and just enjoying each other’s company. As per her usual Sunday visit, Grandma Betty strolls in shortly after lunch, her smile bright at the sight of you both. “Look at you two. You’re practically glowing today! I knew a night out would be good for my boy. Was it as fun as you remembered?”

Bucky sends a heart stopping smile your way before launching into a full recap of your night and how perfect it was. Grandma leaves with a smile that matches yours and a promise of some of your now famous peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.

After the visit you can tell that Bucky’s mood has dampened slightly, his teeth working over his bottom lip and his forehead creased in thought. “Hey baby, you think Steve, Peggy, Nat and Sam would want to come over for dinner next weekend? Maybe we can do it early before you guys have to be at the bar?” His spirits seem to lift at the idea, and he sends out a text to see if everyone is available.

Once your plans are made and you all settle on a time you ask him, “what do I make for dessert?” He laughs, raising his brow before he speaks. You cut him off, “I’m not making you any more of those cookies. In fact, I’m going to make a whole batch, give them all to your grandma and you can’t have any!” He pretends to pout which makes you laugh, his antics hard to resist. “I’ll bake something new! A surprise!” you exclaim, winking his way.

You spend almost every weeknight at Bucky’s apartment, except for Wednesday night because Nat insists she needs some girl time. “So. Does it feel different now that you guys said I love you?” she asks, sitting on the couch with her legs stretched out over yours while sipping her wine. “It just feels right. I can’t really explain it. It all seems so cliché when I really think about it, but I’ve also not felt surer about anything before.”

Nat tilts her head in understanding, her hand reaching over to squeeze yours. “I get it. I’m so happy for you.” With another sip of your wine you reply, “thanks, I love you. Now stop stalling and tell me about your weekend with Sam!” She giggles and you squeal when you see a light blush creep over her cheeks. “OH MY GOD! WELL??” She kicks you with her foot, scowling before she says, “it’s the wine! I swear!” You laugh, knowing full well she’s full of shit. “Yea right. You can’t fool me. SPILL IT!”

Saturday morning rolls around and you and Bucky leave his apartment together, you’re heading out for baking supplies and Bucky heading to the bookshop to open and prepare for his early departure. “If you need me to pick anything up on my way back just let me know, doll. I can easily make a stop.” You pepper his cheek with kisses, saying thank you in between before planting a good one on his lips. “I love you,” he murmurs, watching you walk down the street until you’re out of his sight.

You decide on making a coconut cream pie for dessert, checking beforehand that everyone is a fan of the fruit. It’s the first time you’re making it and you’re both excited and nervous. Once you have everything you need you head back to Bucky’s and start preparing, making sure to send him plenty of silly texts as you bake. Thankfully the two of you had made a sauce and breaded chicken cutlets the night before so all that had to be done other than the pie was frying up the cutlets and cooking the pasta.

Bucky arrives home right on time. “Wow. It smells amazing in here baby.” He gives you a tight hug, picking you up off your feet and kissing you soundly before running off to take a quick shower. Once he’s clean and ready you finish up the cooking and put the pie in the oven. Bucky sets the table and you prepare some small appetizers.

Steve and Peggy arrive first, and Peggy joins you in the kitchen for some gossiping and wine. You look over her shoulder to see Bucky and Steve on the couch plowing through the snacks. “Hey boys! Can you please try to save some for Nat and Sam??” They both look up guiltily, trying to hide their mouthfuls of food. “Sorry,” they mumble simultaneously.

Luckily, Sam and Nat show up only moments later and Sam can snag a few bites. Dinner goes off without a hitch and everyone sits with their glass of wine while they wait for dessert. “Nat has been going on and on about y/n’s baking all week! I can’t wait to eat this pie!” Sam shouts. “I know, Bucky said her cookies are better than my mom’s!” Steve chimes in, raising his eyebrows.

Everyone looks at Steve in shock, their mouths hanging open. “What the heck guys?” you say as you walk to the table holding the pie. “What happened?” Steve quickly speaks up, “nothing y/n! We were just talking about how good your baking is. That looks amazing!” You throw them a knowing smirk and put the pie on the table, serving a slice to everyone.

Sam shovels in a giant bite, moaning around the fork. “Holy cow, this is incredible y/n!” Steve follows suit, closing his eyes and mumbling something about heaven while he chews. Bucky looks up and gives you a wide smile, his eyes twinkling as he mouths “I love you.”

Before you can answer him Sam snorts, pulling your attention away as you watch him point and laugh. “Jeez, you two are sweeter than this pie.” You scowl at him and try to hold back your laughter but fail miserably when Nat chimes in and says, “that’s the best you could do. Really?” Everyone starts laughing and Bucky pulls you into his lap, feeding you a piece of the pie. “Wow. It really did come good,” you say, only loud enough for him to hear.

While everyone continues to eat Bucky makes some coffee, the smell drifting through the small apartment and perking everyone up. The rest of the evening goes by fast and before you know it, Bucky and Sam must leave for the bar. Bucky tries to help you clean up, but you shoo him out, looking forward to a little alone time with Peggy and Nat. “It’s fine Buck, don’t worry! We can definitely handle this!”

It doesn’t take the three of you long to clean up, afterwards getting comfy on the couch with a glass of wine. You hang out for another couple of hours before the yawning starts, the wine and good food catching up to all of you. “Thank you so much for coming, this was so fun!” They enthusiastically agree, telling you for the hundredth time how delicious the pie was.

An hour later you’re in the bath, relaxing under the bubbles and teasing Bucky by sending him sexy pictures. ‘Doll, this is so unfair…I know what’s under those bubbles and I want some.’ You giggle, placing your phone safely on the towel next to the tub. Grabbing the plate of pie you brought into the bath you take a bite, savoring every flavor as it swirls over your tongue. You mentally give yourself props, loving how much everyone praised your baking abilities.

Finishing the last bite, your eyes suddenly go wide, and you blurt out, “that’s it!!!” You drop the empty dish to the floor and grab your phone, trying to text Bucky as quickly as possible. “Shit, shit, shit!” you curse at your slippery fingers, wiping them off on the towel. ‘BUCKY! I KNOW HOW TO SAVE THE BOOKSHOP!’ The text goes through and you smile to yourself, excitement coursing through you while you wait for his reply.

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @bucky-on-my-mind @buckys-broody-muffin @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hailmary-yramliah @godofplumsandthunder @hawksmagnolia @hiddles-rose @imgaril-lindru @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @jewelofwinter @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines @metal-armed-cuddly-dork @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @scarletsoldierrr @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky @throwmyheartawayagain @flyawaybay @amandatar-06 @nd1998sc @captainchrisstan @vherriepie @fire-flv @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @irishflutiegirl @rinthehufflepuff @moonybarnes @nordlysinthewoods​ @inflxmes 

[tayliviaspeace]

Day 3 of Analysing Taylor in Quarantine

Day 3: the last great american dynasty [tlgad]

1 sentence summary: tlgad is a song that can be understood as a song about how our lives are all intertwined with people we have never met.

"Rebekah rode up on the afternoon train, it was sunny Her saltbox house on the coast took her mind off St. Louis Bill was the heir to the Standard Oil name and money And the town said, "How did a middle-class divorcée do it?" The wedding was charming, if a little gauche There's only so far new money goes They picked out a home and called it "Holiday House" Their parties were tasteful, if a little loud The doctor had told him to settle down It must have been her fault his heart gave out"

This is a real story about Rebekah Harkness. Something bad must have happened in St Louis, or something that needs to be forgotten. I read a bit about Rebekah before analysing this song. Bill is her second husband, and since this happened in the 1940s, people were very sexist. No one understood how a woman who had been married and divorced, got married a second time and to someone extremely rich. People with old money, or who have grown up with money, always look down on those who recently became wealthy. People with new money spend it in a more extravagant manner and less subtly, which makes those who have grown up with it look down on them, since people with old money may spend it in a more 'classy' manner. Holiday House is Taylor's current Rhode Island Residence. It is a hugeeeeeeee mansion, said to have 8 kitchens and 21 bedrooms. The Harknesses knew how to throw great parties, like Taylor, but because they were mostly around people with old money, there was criticism of it. Bill might have had a heart condition, and prior to his death, he had had a heart attack the year before too. People needed someone to blame for his death, and even though she was in no way responsible for the death of her husband, people blamed Rebekah, as she was different to everyone else and a woman. The song is already showing sexism and highlighting the message that sexism is stupid, irrational and needs to stop.

"And they said "There goes the last great American dynasty Who knows, if she never showed up, what could've been There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything""

The people blamed Rebekah and basically hate her for her husband dying. She was someone new in their community, and without a man, which made the town people hate her more. They had a certain way of life that they were used to, and she came and 'ruined' things. But she was being herself, and she was doing things that she wanted. She wasn't living her life to fulfil society's expectations of her. That is a similarity between Taylor and Rebekah. They both to an extent did what society wanted them to do and were who society wanted them to be, but after sometime they figured that they weren't really those people and tried to be themselves, which is something new since, in Taylor's case, the press is very critical of her, and for Rebekah, her neighbours were very judgemental. 'mad' also alludes to track 12, 'mad woman' which seems like a continuation of this song.

"Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever Flew in all her Bitch Pack friends from the city Filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names And blew through the money on the boys and the ballet And losing on card game bets with Dalí"

Rebekah stopped trying to get her neighbours to like her, and figured that the people who actually liked her were the only people whose opinions mattered. The 'Bitch Pack' could be a reference to Taylor's 'Squad' as both are groups of close friends, who are immensely trustworthy and the best type of people. 'pool with champagne' is a hint to 'this is why we can't have nice things' on 'Reputation', where the line is, 'everyone swimming in a champagne sea'. She [Rebekah] didn't care about her reputation anymore with the townspeople. The 'big names' are the shareholders from Standard Oil and the rest of the town is probably very frustrated that she knows them and is still on good terms with them, despite her husband's death. This shows that the Standard Oil people are open minded and don't care about the wealth as long as you're a nice person. Taylor is also hinting at things the media says about her, when she says, 'blew through the money on the boys', as the media has frequently slut shamed her for doing something any normal 20 something year old would do. Rebekah loved the arts and ballet, and started the 'Harkness Ballet', she was also friends with Salvador Dalí, a famous artist.

"And they said "There goes the last great American dynasty Who knows, if she never showed up, what could've been There goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything""

The change from mad to shameless shows that whatever you do people will criticise you for it. Rebekah wanted to be herself, enjoy her life with people she knows she likes. Rebekah really couldn't care less about her reputation with the townspeople, because they didn't make any effort to know her, at least that's what it seems. Rebekah is happy being herself, and she wants to be herself and while she's being herself, she doesn't care about who's saying what about her.

"They say she was seen on occasion Pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea And in a feud with her neighbor She stole his dog and dyed it key lime green Fifty years is a long time Holiday House sat quietly on that beach Free of women with madness, their men and bad habits And then it was bought by me"

The people chased her away. The sea brings calmness in people and all Rebekah wanted was a peaceful life. The people were pretending that she hadn't lost her husband when they were making the rumours about her. The sea, alone, at midnight, was one place she felt at peace. People called her mad for wanting to remember the happy times she had with her husband, when they would throw parties which is why she kept doing it, and she kept getting more annoyed with them, until she snapped, reasonably, and did something truly mad. Obviously, after dying her neighbour's dog, she must have fled and gone back to St Louis. The listeners don't really know how this song connects to Taylor, since she's known for her songs being personal, until this line. It was a really climatic moment for me personally. Once you hear this line, you can see the ways in which the song relates to her also.

"Who knows, if I never showed up, what could've been There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen I had a marvelous time ruining everything"

The media makes a bunch of rumours about Taylor and people may not have wanted her as a neighbour because of this, but she didn't care what people thought of her. She was living her best life and thats something that people [the media] shouldn't give her hell for. She also highlights sexism with the use of 'woman' as both Rebekah and Taylor's actions would have been praised had they both been male.

"I had a marvelous time ruining everything A marvelous time ruining everything A marvelous time I had a marvelous time"

The repetition shows that Taylor really didn't care what other people thought of her, and what mattered to her was how she thought of herself. It's almost like a chant she is repeating for herself, 'I am happy I am being me'. Ending on 'I had a marvelous time', shows that she was and is truly happy.

Overall review: I love this song, the message and everything behind it. Honestly, the last thing I expected a song to be written about was a house, but when I was analysing this, I realised it's so much more than a story of a house. I also think it's cool to write a story for an inanimate object because it's something that you can make feel like the most haunted [pun intended] or enchanted [also intended] thing ever, and you can create a fantasy world in a real world. I love the song writing of this song, the lyrics, the parallels. Honestly Taylor smashed the assignment yet again.

[pikapeppa]

Samson/Roman Hawke: Peace

A Friday offering for my beloved @schoute​! 

In which the brewing mage-Templar conflict starts to get to Samson and Roman. 😭 Featuring Act 3 angst, arguments, make-up sex. CW: BDSM sex that might feel like dubcon if you aren’t familiar with these two and their dynamic. Please pass go without reading if that’s not your thing. ❤

~9000 words; read on AO3 instead.

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

- ROMAN -

Roman stepped into the mansion and kicked the door shut, then exhaled and leaned back against the door. It was late and she was fucking tired, and she just wanted a second of peace.

“Bird? Is that you?”

Samson’s voice was calling from the kitchen. She opened her eyes, then propped her staff against the wall before trudging through the mansion. 

Sure enough, Samson was in the kitchen. He was leaning against the kitchen island and eating some chicken and roasted potatoes while Monty sat at his feet looking up at him with a pitiful expression. 

Roman grunted and went straight to the enchanted icebox. “You better not be feeding him people food. He’ll get fat.” She picked out a bottle of cider, and when she turned around, it was to find Samson looking vaguely guilty.

She wilted. “I told you not to feed him fucking people food.”

Samson scowled and popped another piece of potato in his mouth. “This mabari’s a real pain, you know,” he said as he chewed. “It’s like he doesn’t understand me.”

“You’re just a soft touch,” Roman said. “Of course he understands you. He’s a smart boy.” She crouched beside Monty and scratched his jowls. “You’re a smart boy, aren’t you?” she crooned. “Samson shouldn’t give you people food, no he shouldn’t.”

Monty wagged his tail, and Samson huffed. “You’re back late. Picking fights at the Hanged Man, were you?”

“Yeah, I was,” she said belligerently.

Samson shot her a long-suffering look, and she rose to her feet and frowned at him. “Don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t my fault.” She pulled the cork out of the bottle and took a sip. 

“It’s never your fault though, is it?” he asked, and he reached for the bottle of cider. 

She shot him a dirty look but handed over the bottle. “It really wasn’t my fucking fault this time, okay? It was Fenris’s. Well, not Fenris’s,” she amended, “but it was related to Fenris.”

Samson lowered the bottle in surprise. “I thought he didn’t like getting involved in your fights.”

She rolled her eyes and snatched the bottle back from him. “I told you, it wasn’t my fight, it was his. His former master showed up.”

Samson’s eyes widened. “Former master? You mean a Vint magister was here in Kirkwall?”

“Yeah,” Roman said, and she took another sip of cider. That wasn’t the worst of it, though. Roman still couldn’t believe Fenris’s own sister had tried to sell him out to his former master. She didn’t mention Fenris’s sister to Samson, though. She and Fenris didn’t agree on much, but they both valued privacy. If Roman was in Fenris’s place, she wouldn’t want strangers knowing her business either.

Samson scratched his whiskered chin. “And here I thought the Templars were helping the city guard to crack down on who comes in and out o’ Kirkwall.”

“Templars,” Roman said scornfully. “They’re corrupt as fuck, even if precious Meredith doesn’t want to see it. Grease the right palms and practically anyone could get in here.” She took another sip of cider, then set the bottle down and picked a piece of chicken from Samson’s plate. 

“Hey, get your own,” he said, but with no real heat.

She huffed and chewed the chicken and ignored Monty’s pleading eyes, and for a moment they were quiet as Samson selected another chicken thigh from the platter on the island and started cutting it up. 

He broke the silence. “If there was a Vint magister here…” He shook his head. “Maker. If there was anyone I’d think the Templars would try to keep out, it’d be magisters.”

Roman scoffed and stole another sliver of chicken from his plate. “Yeah, because more mages are the worst thing that could happen to this shithole,” she said sarcastically.

Samson didn’t reply. He was frowning slightly, and Roman narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me you agree.”

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his chin again. “I’ve been hearin’ things,” he said slowly. “Down in Lowtown, and in Darktown too. A lot of abomination attacks, sounds like.”

Roman aggressively bit the piece of chicken in her fingers. “Yeah?” she said in a hard voice. “Have you also heard how the Templars have started punishing the Circle mages even more harshly? Anders said that a full quarter of the Circle mages are Tranquil now.”

Samson flinched at this, and Roman felt a pang of guilt. She knew that the Tranquility process was a sore issue for him, given what had happened to Maddox after Meredith had thrown Samson out of the Templars. 

She swallowed her bite of chicken, then pushed the bottle of cider across the counter toward him. He picked it up and took a sip, then set it down and jerked his chin in the direction of the main room. “You got some letters, by the way,” he said. “Both from the Gallows.”

Roman sighed loudly. Two letters from the Gallows always meant the same thing: both Orsino and Meredith were trying to get her help with some bullshit task. “YFuck that. They can wait until tomorrow.” She plucked a piece of potato from Samson’s plate and ate it while she brooded about Meredith, then picked up the bottle of cider. “The fucking gall of that bitch, trying to get me to help her,” she complained. “She’s just trying to find an excuse for her fucking puppets to drag me in.”

“Better not give her one, then,” Samson said.

She gave him a dirty look. “I know, Samson. I’m not a fucking idiot.” For the past month or so, she’d cut down on her use of blood magic, doing it only when she was working a spell at home or when she was outside of the city limits. It infuriated her to play into the Chantry’s bullshit sanctions against blood magic, and if she had it her way, she’d keep using blood magic in her perfectly safe way even within Kirkwall’s bounds. 

But Roman didn’t just have herself to think about. She was famous here now — or infamous, depending on who you talked to — and her actions were under scrutiny, no matter how much she tried to keep to herself when she was out and about. Anything she did would reflect poorly on the people close to her… particularly on Carver. 

Fucking Carver, she thought angrily. She couldn’t give the Chantry an excuse to make her brother a scapegoat for her choices. 

She and Samson continued to eat silently from his plate. As the minutes stretched on with no further commentary from Samson, she started to watch him suspiciously. He was usually more talkative than this. Not that he was a huge talker or anything, but he usually had more to say than, well, nothing.

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”

He glanced at her. “Nothing. This chicken’s good.”

Roman grunted, and they fell silent again. When his plate was cleared, she frowned at him. “Seriously, what is your problem?”

He raised an eyebrow and reached for the cider. “What are you on about?”

She gave him an arch look. “If you’re trying to do some kind of ‘strong and silent’ bullshit, it’s not working.”

Samson lowered the cider bottle from his lips and shot her a chiding look. “You sure about that? It seems to be getting your knickers all twisted.”

She scoffed and grabbed the bottle of cider from him. “My knickers aren’t fucking twisted.”

“Too bad,” he said. “I was going to offer to untwist ‘em for you, but…”

She ignored his innuendo. “Are you pissed about what I said about the Tranquil?”

His sarcastic little smirk slipped away. “No.”

“I wasn’t being an asshole,” she said defensively. “I was — it’s just the fucking truth.”

“I know, Bird,” he said tiredly. He sidled past her and headed for the front door.

Roman put her cider down and followed him. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to get more of the dust,” he said, and he slid his feet into his worn-out shoes.

She raised her eyebrows. “Now?”

“When else is a man supposed to go meet his illegal lyrium dealer?” he said sardonically. 

Roman pursed her lips but didn’t reply. Samson bent down to tie his shoes, and she leaned against the doorjamb and folded her arms as she watched him. She knew he needed the lyrium; she’d seen what happened to him when he ran out of it, and she didn’t want to see him suffer like that again. But still, sometimes she wished…

She discarded the fleeting thought. There was no point wishing Samson didn’t need the lyrium. He’d told her long ago that he would die without it, and she had no reason to not believe him. It wasn’t like she knew any Templars who had ever quit taking lyrium. 

She pushed away from the doorjamb and wandered over to him. “I’ll come with you.”

He looked up in surprise. “Eh? What for?”

To hit back if someone hits you, she thought, but she wasn’t going to fucking say so. She shrugged, and Samson smirked as he stood up. 

“You going to be my knight in shining armour again?” he taunted.

She scowled. “No. Fuck you.”

He raised an eyebrow, and she scoffed and looked away. “You know what, whatever. Forget it.”

“All right, good,” he said affably. “Gettin’ into a brawl kind of defeats the purpose of going out in the middle of the night.” He chucked her chin playfully.

She smacked his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

He suddenly gripped her chin. Before Roman could snap at him to let her go, he was kissing her: a quick firm kiss on the lips — so quick that she didn’t have time to bite him or push him away before he released her. 

He opened the door. “Go eat some more. I’ll be back soon,” he said, and then he was gone. 

She wrinkled her nose at the closed door. How dare he kiss her? He was such an asshole. 

Beside her, Monty sat back on his haunches and tilted his head curiously. Roman looked down at him for a second, then sighed and crouched beside him. “Go with him, okay?” she murmured. “If he gets hit, you jump in and bite back for him. He’s a fucking idiot, he won’t defend himself.”

Monty stood and wagged his tail, and Roman opened the door for him. He bounded away into the darkness, and Roman went back to the kitchen with a sigh. 

She picked up the half-empty bottle of cider and took another sip, then wandered over to her writing desk to check out her letters. She pushed away the ones from Orsino and Meredith without opening them, then paused when she saw a thicker envelope with Varric’s handwriting on it.

She frowned as she opened it. The envelope contained a bunch of worn journal pages that were variously dirty and bloodstained, topped with a short note from Varric. 

Hawke,

Remember that old journal page we found wedged into a brick wall that one time — something by the “Band of Three”? I had a couple sharp eyes looking out for more pages, and this is what they found. I put them together in the order I think they’re supposed to go. Kind of hard to tell without dates, but this is the best I could do. 

Come on down to the Hanged Man after you read them and let me know what you think. You’ll probably want a drink, anyway. I always knew shit in Kirkwall was weird, but this takes the cake.

 - V. 

That’s cryptic as fuck, Roman thought. She took the pages and her bottle of cider to the study and plopped down on the couch in front of the fireplace, then began to read.

- SAMSON -

Samson sidled into the shadows as he made his way through Hightown. There was a faint feeling of unease in his gut, like a hint of nausea, and it revolved around the mages in Kirkwall. 

He’d been hearing stories down at the docks: stories about people cutting their wrists and getting possessed by demons and exploding into monsters who gobbled up their whole families. Samson was too jaded and skeptical to believe any old story he heard on the streets, but he’d been hearing tales for weeks now, versions of the same stories, and he’d been able to put together enough pieces to know that not all of the stories were made up. 

Kirkwall had always had its share of horror stories involving mages, most of which Samson had heard in the course of his business of smuggling mages out of the city. This familiarity meant he was all the more aware that there were more stories than ever before, and they were getting more and more bizarre. 

Mysterious deaths involving ice and lightning, flash fires with no evidence of kindling or fuel, people behaving strangely and talking in tongues, people going missing… He knew Roman didn’t want to hear it, and he didn’t even want to believe it himself, but the truth was this: there was a mage problem in Kirkwall.

Roman was right too, though. Samson had heard things from the Gallows, whispers from the merchants and the few visitors who came and went from that ghastly fucking place, and he knew that Roman was right: Meredith was handing out the Tranquility sentence these days like a Chantry sister handed out blessings on Satinalia, and Samson’s former brethren were feeding right into her tyrannical attempts to control the mages. 

Samson sighed. He’d heard enough and lived through the nugshit for long enough that he could see all the moving parts in this Maker-forsaken place, almost like looking at the inside of a clock: the Templars were getting more controlling and punitive, and the mages were getting more desperate to protect themselves. The hysteria of it all was bleeding down from the Gallows to Kirkwall proper, making the city guard more fearful about magic and making the hidden apostates more fearful than ever of persecution. If something didn’t change, if things continued down this route, the city was going to explode like one of those qunari gaatlok barrels. 

His troubled thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy breathing behind him. He barely had time to be alarmed before a heavy muscular body rammed into his hip.

He stumbled, then caught his balance on a nearby wall and stared in surprise at Monty, who was standing beside him and wagging his tail so enthusiastically that his whole body was shaking. 

Samson gathered himself and frowned at the mabari. “What are you doing here, eh?” 

Monty sat and gazed at Samson attentively, and Samson wrinkled his nose. “Did she send you after me?”

Monty let out a little bark, and Samson jumped before scowling at him. “Quiet, dog,” he scolded in a whisper. “You’re going get people looking. If you’re going to follow me, you have to shut your trap.”

Monty panted but didn’t bark again, and Samson gazed at him a little resentfully. It looked like Monty really did understand him. Just not when Samson was saying ‘no’ to feeding chicken to the big furry fucker.

He sighed. “All right, come on then. But be quiet,” he said severely, and together they continued on their way to Lowtown in silence.

Samson watched the mabari from the corner of his eye as they walked. It was so strange having any kind of company when he went… well, anywhere really. Monty, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease as he trotted along at Samson’s side.

Within the space of a couple of minutes, Samson had adjusted to Monty’s presence. It helped that Monty was almost entirely silent. He was a big bloody dog, and Samson would have expected him to make some noise as he walked, but he was pleasantly surprised at how quiet Monty was. 

He shot the mabari a sideways glance. “She really sent you along, eh?”

Monty looked up at him with his mouth agape in a wide doggy smile, and Samson huffed. “Let me guess. She told you to attack anyone who attacked me, right?”

Monty wagged his tail, and Samson pursed his lips. Bloody bird, always acting like he was some kind of coward for not picking fights like she did. He’d told her time and time again that it was smarter to run or hide than to fight back, especially for someone like him: someone powerless, someone that the city guard wouldn’t move to protect if something really went wrong. Besides, he did fight back sometimes when he was attacked — if fighting back was the smarter move. Roman was hotheaded and angry, always looking for the next person she could justifiably throw a fireball at, but Samson wasn’t like her. He wasn’t strong like her.

Leave it to the damned bloody bird to be the strong one, he thought tiredly. I’ll do things my own way. Samson might not be strong anymore, but at least he had his street smarts. He’d just keep sticking to the smarter course, whether it meant hiding or fighting back. He’d keep doing what he needed in order to survive.

He and Monty were about to step into the market when he spotted something strange: two men and a woman talking in low and urgent voices in a corner. He slowed down and placed his hand on Monty’s head, and Monty slowed down to a stop as well. 

Together, they sidled a little closer to the furtive trio. Samson couldn’t move close enough to hear what they were saying, not without making himself and the mabari visible, but as they edged a little nearer, Samson had a jolt of recognition: he knew one of the men — or at least, he thought he did. The man’s blond hair was shorter than Samson remembered, and he had a beard where his face used to be bare, but Samson was fairly sure this blond bloke was a Templar.

On shore leave from the Gallows, looks like, Samson thought. Then, with another jolt, he realized that he recognized the woman too: she was a known mage sympathizer. 

Strange, he thought. He watched the trio for a minute longer, trying to determine if he could conclusively identify the blond fellow as being a Templar, but he really wasn’t able to get any closer without being seen. When the three people made signs of looking like their meeting was coming to an end, Samson quickly ducked into a nearby alleyway with Monty to hide.

When the trio had dispersed, Samson patted Monty’s head. “Let’s go, dog.”

They quickly slunk through the market and into the lower-class suburb that led toward Lowtown, and Samson pondered what they’d witnessed. A Templar and a mage sympathizer having an amiable little late-night meeting? Meredith wouldn’t be too chuffed about that. Or maybe the mage sympathizer wasn’t as sympathetic as she seemed and was feeding information about apostates back to the Gallows, in which case old Orsino would be the unhappy one. 

Samson and Monty made their way through Lowtown proper. As usual, Lowtown was more active — and more dangerous — at night than Hightown was, and Samson listened furtively as he made his way to the usual meeting spot for his lyrium-smuggling contact down by the market. The gossip was the same as he’d heard earlier today: mentions of a fish merchant closing down for the week after selling some clams that made people sick, talk of a few lingering qunari out on the Wounded Coast, reports of a young elf getting dragged off to jail by a guardsman after stealing a few apples for his family, the usual grim fare. But one piece of gossip in particular deepened his worries. 

It was a corrupt city guardsman talking to some other human. “... those knife-ears still cleaning blood and guts off of that big tree in the alienage. You know, the one they tie all those poncy ribbons to.” He chuckled. “That’s what happens when apostates hide out in the alienage: all that knife-ear nugshit makes ‘em blow up. Too bad and serves ‘em right if you ask me.”

Samson frowned as he slunk past the guardsman and his friend. He knew about the incident in question because Roman had been directly involved. Meredith had forced her to track down three runaways from the Circle by making indirect threats toward Carver, and one of the runaways was a possessed mage — a mage who had, as indicated by the guardsman, become an abomination and ultimately exploded into a shower of blood when Roman was forced to kill him. 

“Is that a mabari?” 

“What’s a mabari doing with that homeless fellow?”

“That’s not… it’s not Hawke’s mabari, is it?”

Maker’s balls, Samson thought in  exasperation. He knew he shouldn’t have let Monty come with him. The damned dog was drawing far too much attention, including curious looks from the corrupt guardsman.

He shot Monty a resentful look. Monty ducked his head and tucked his tail between his legs, and Samson immediately felt bad. It wasn’t Monty’s fault, after all; it was Roman’s. He’d have to have a word with her when he got back to the mansion.

He quickly met up with his contact and traded a few silver for lyrium powder, then selected a more convoluted but quieter route back to Hightown so they wouldn’t be stared at. As they silently made their way back to Roman’s house, Samson brooded over that abomination incident in the alienage. 

He’d always known there were apostates hiding throughout the city, but he’d somehow not thought much about how much harder it had to be for the apostates who were elves. He’d helped to smuggle out dozens of apostates in his time, and he count on one hand the number of times they’d been elves, and the reason was obvious: they didn’t have the coin. Mages who didn’t have the coin to smuggle their way out of the city must be even more afraid, which made them more prone to possession — more prone than they already were if they hadn’t had any training at the Circle.

He rubbed his forehead. Maker’s balls, I’m tired, he thought, and he continued on his way to Roman’s house.

When they got back to the house, Samson let Monty in before following him inside and closing the door. “Oi, I’m back,” he called. He took off his shoes and padded through to the main room, and when he didn’t find Roman there, he peeked into the study. 

Monty was already lying on his belly in front of the fireplace, and Roman was sitting on the couch and scowling at the fire. There was a sheaf of papers beside her and two empty cider bottles on the floor, and another half-finished bottle in her hand.

Samson wilted slightly. Roman had been drinking less since he’d started sleeping at her house. This was the first time in a while that she’d had more than one drink in the evening. 

At least she’s not drinking rum or whiskey, he thought. “You can’t send the dog with me again,” he said as he entered the room. “Everyone was staring. A guardsman was giving me the eye over ‘im.”

She looked up at him. “Kirkwall is a fucking mage trap.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Eh?”

“Look at this.” She picked up the sheaf of papers and thrust it at him, and he took them gingerly. 

The papers were journal entries by some group called the Band of Three who’d been investigating the history of Kirkwall during Tevinter occupation. The more Samson read, the more discomfort he felt twisting in his gut. Secret Vint plans, hundreds of slaves going missing, the city designed in the shape of magical glyphs, gutters in the sewer system meant to channel vast amounts of blood…

By the time he finished reading the pages, the hairs were standing up on the back of his neck. He held the papers out to her. “Where’d you get these from?” he rasped.

“I found one of them. Varric scrounged up the rest.” She stood up and plucked the papers from his hand. “You know what this means, right?”

He pulled a face. “Er—”

She cut him off. “The Veil is thin here,” she said. “That’s why so many mages in the Circle fail that fucking Harrowing ritual bullshit. That’s why some people turn into abominations for doing a single little spell with blood magic. It’s this fucking city. It’s…” She waved her arms in an angry expansive gesture. “The whole environment is against us, and the Templars just make it worse!”

Samson blinked at this. “Hang on.” He rubbed his face with both hands, then gazed wearily at her. “You’re telling me that Kirkwall is a… a bad place for mages, but the Templars are the problem?”

“They’re definitely not a fucking solution, that’s for sure,” she retorted. “Everyone knows that demons are attracted to fear.”

“And to anger,” Samson said pointedly.

“Exactly,” Roman said angrily, missing his point entirely. “And think about what’s pissing me off. It’s the Templars!” She waved the journal pages. “It’s already hard enough for us to live here, and they’re just making it harder.” She tossed the pages on the floor and drank from her half-finished bottle of cider, and Samson frowned. 

“What is it you want, then?” he said slowly. “You want to just… get rid of the Templars or something?”

She lowered the bottle and gave him a frank look. “Sounds like a good fucking plan to me.”

He stared at her with growing disbelief, then laughed. “You’re not bloody serious.”

“Do I look like I’m fucking laughing?” she said. “It’s the Templars that are making the mages so desperate that they’re turning to… to summoning demons and other shit that they don’t understand.”

“And when they summon demons and do that shit, someone needs to be able to stop them,” Samson retorted.

Her face went slack with disbelief, then twisted back into anger. “You can’t be fucking serious about this. You’re defending them? They threw you out!”

“That bitch Meredith threw me out,” he corrected.

She threw her hands up in frustration. “So what, now you think the Templars are justified? Now you think it’s okay to keep the mages locked up in a fucking tower with no freedom?”

“No,” Samson said loudly. “That’s not what I’m bloody saying. I’m just….” He sighed and rubbed his face again, then looked at her once more. “Think about it, Bird. Say the Templars get dismantled. What happens to ‘em?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” she said impatiently.

“What happens to Templars who have no use anymore?” he said, and he gestured sarcastically at himself.

The fury in her face loosened slightly, and Samson gave her a humourless smile. “You didn’t even think about it, did you? Well, you should. Think about Carver there. The Order falls apart, and he’ll end up like me, just a ruined—”

“You’re not fucking ruined!” she bellowed suddenly.  “Stop saying that!”

Samson closed his mouth and stared hard at her. An ugly pause ensued, electric and tense like the brewing of a heavy summer storm. The longer he and Roman went without speaking, the more he felt the old memories rising to the front of his mind, like bloated corpses cut loose from the bottom of the sea: his disbelief at being kicked out of the Order and out of the only home he had, all for something so trivial. The betrayal and the loneliness. The shakes and the nausea when the withdrawal first set in. The delirium, the beatings, the confusion, the raging thirst and hunger during the moments when he was lucid, the horrific hallucinations when he wasn’t. The humiliation of having to find a black-market lyrium dealer, and the slow erosion of his soul as his muscles and his purpose and his confidence wasted away bit by bit. 

For a first time in a long, long time, the old injustices were burning in his belly and burning through the shroud of his usual world-weary passivity, prompting him to take an aggressive step toward her. “I am ruined, Roman,” he said in a hard voice. “You didn’t know me when I was in the Order. If you did, you’d know I’m a bloody shadow of the man I used to be.” 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Samson, for fuck’s—”

He interrupted her. “Is this what you want for Carver?” he said harshly. “You want that big brute to end up like this, all wasted away and jonesing for the dust?”

She opened her mouth again, but Samson didn’t let her speak. “You going to write to Her Divine Holiness and tell ‘er to dismantle the Templars?” he said aggressively. “Tell her to let every one of ‘em end up on the streets like beggars?”

She narrowed her eyes. “If you really think that’s what would happen to them, what does that say about the Chantry and your precious fucking Order?”

He exhaled hard and glared at her, furious at not being able to find a reply. Roman leaned away and planted her fists on her skinny hips. “Besides, it’s not like complaining to the precious fucking Divine would do anything,” she said. “You think she’d break up her personal army for the good of the mages? Not a fucking chance.”

“They’re not supposed to be her personal army,” Samson snapped.

“And the Circles aren’t supposed to be jails for mages, but look where we are,” Roman drawled.

All of a sudden, Samson had had enough. “Fine then, everything in the world is shit,” he shouted. “Are you happy now?”

She recoiled slightly, then sneered at him. “No, actually. I’m fucking pissed.”

“No different than all the fucking time, then,” he said acidly, and he strode away to the kitchen. He threw open the enchanted icebox and stared unseeingly at its contents. Truthfully, he hadn’t been planning to get anything out of here. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be around Roman right now.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get the hint; a second later, she was storming up to him. “What the fuck is your problem?” she yelled. “Why are you being such an asshole?”

He slammed the icebox shut. “Me?” he said incredulously. “I’m just tryin’ to survive, Bird. I’m just trying to make the best of this bullshit that we’re living through.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Roman demanded.

“You’re trying to pick a fucking fight,” he snapped. “I can see it in your face. You’ve never tried to keep your head down. You want a war with the Templars, don’t you?”

“I don’t want a fucking war, but that’s what’s coming,” she yelled. She shot him a scathing look. “And don’t act like you don’t know it’s coming. You’re one of the smartest people in this fucking city. You know exactly what’s coming.”

He raised his eyebrows, thrown off by her compliment in the midst of her vitriol. “So… so what, you think there’s a war coming and nothing can stop it?”

“Yeah,” she said. “That’s what I think.” She took a slow step closer to him and belligerently lifted her chin. “There’s a war coming between the mages and the Templars. And if you won’t pick a side, you’re a fucking coward.”

Coward. The word shot straight through his chest like an icy spear. It wasn’t that she was wrong necessarily, because she wasn’t. Samson wasn’t brave or principled or any of that shit, so if he didn’t have any of those precious virtues, that must mean he was a coward. But to hear Roman saying it to his face…

His chest squeezed painfully, almost as though she was digging her nails through his rib cage to rend his heart. He swallowed hard and glared at her. “Fuck you,” he spat, and he pushed past her and headed back to the study.

He sat down heavily on the couch. Monty sat up and whined softly, but Samson ignored him; he lay down on the couch and closed his eyes.

 A moment later, he heard Roman’s strident voice. “What in the Maker’s fucking ballsack are you doing?”

“Cooking a four-course Antivan meal,” he said flatly. “What’s it bloody look like?”

She barked out a nasty little laugh. “You’re fucking sleeping down here, then? Is that it?”

He opened his eyes and glared venomously at her. “Yeah, I am. I’m sleeping here tonight, and I’ll get out of your hair first thing in the morning so you don’t have to share your fucking fancy house with a coward.” 

Her jaw clenched visibly, but she didn’t speak, and Samson’s heart twisted. She really did think he was a coward, then.

He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes once more. “Go away, Roman. Leave me alone.”

She scoffed. When she spoke again, her voice was moving away toward the stairs. “Fuck you too, then. See if I fucking care.”

He didn’t bother to reply. A few seconds later, he heard the slamming of her bedroom door. 

He drew a deep breath and ignored the swelling feeling in his throat. Then something nudged his back.

He jolted in surprise, then sighed loudly; it was Monty snuffling around him. 

He shifted his shoulders in annoyance. “Leave off, dog,” he said quietly. “Go upstairs.” 

Monty whined and nudged him again, and Samson shrugged irritably. “I said leave off,” he snapped. “I don’t want your company.”

Monty whined again, but the nudging stopped. A moment later, he heard the distant sound of Monty’s scratching nails, followed by the opening and closing of Roman’s bedroom door.

Feeling even shittier now, Samson sighed and slowly stood up, then shuffled around the lower level of the house putting out the oil lamps and chandeliers. When the house was dark except for the lingering flames in the fireplaces, he lay back on the couch in the study and folded his arms behind his head. 

He stared blankly up at the ceiling for a long time, exhausted but unable to sleep. His gut was a buzzing mess of agitation, and his chest felt like there was rock sitting in the center of his ribs. His mind kept running fruitlessly over all the negative thoughts in his head — and there were a lot of negative things to go over: abomination attacks, a quarter of the Circle’s mages being Tranquil, Meredith blackmailing Roman to do what she wanted, Roman wishing she could dissolve the Templars, Roman yelling about a war that no one could stop, Roman telling him he was a coward…

His heart twisted painfully, and he breathed slowly to quell it. She was such a bloody bitch: telling him he was smart one second then calling him a coward the next, and sending her mabari to follow him as though he was a fucking child who couldn’t look after himself. She was so fucking stubborn and hard-headed, always carrying on about how fucked up the Templars were and how fucked up this entire city was.

But she’s not wrong, he thought as he remembered those papers she’d shown him. That history of the Vints doing some kind of mysterious horrible magic right here in this city — this city that was built in the shape of a magical glyph, this city where the Veil was thin and demons were just a whisper away from the minds of its mages…

And Roman was even more vulnerable than most. Rage-filled Roman Hawke, with her fearlessness and her ferocity and her fucking blood magic… A pulse of fear pierced through his heartsick anger. Sure, she had good control over her own magic, but if those journal pages had the right of it, she was in danger no matter what. She was in danger just by virtue of living in this fucking place that she refused to leave.  

What if she becomes an abomination? His gut clenched at the thought. He’d asked her once if she was afraid of becoming an abomination, and she’d told him that she was. What if she did become an abomination, though? What if she became the very thing she feared? What would happen then?

What would Samson do then?

An icy sort of fear was spreading through his chest. Don’t think about it, he thought. He couldn’t think about what he’d do if that happened — not that he could do anything, really, since he wasn’t a Templar anymore. The lyrium he bought off the black market was enough to keep the edge off of his cravings and his withdrawal, but it wasn’t nearly pure enough to channel into any kind of power. If Roman… If something happened to her, there was nothing Samson would be able to do to help her. 

He rubbed his face wearily. He couldn’t believe he was even having to think about this. Truthfully, given the political situation and the ugly history of this city, Samson knew what he and Roman should both really be doing: fleeing this city before it had a chance to explode. 

And that’s why she thinks you’re a coward, he told himself scathingly. But was it cowardly to survive, or was it just the smart thing to do? Who gave a fuck about being called a coward if it meant you got to live?

Then again, what was the point of living the way Samson had before Roman had wandered into his life?

He was suddenly reminded of something else she’d once said: that it wasn’t enough to just survive, to just eke out a living from one day to the next. That people needed something to live for. But Roman herself had admitted that she didn’t know what she was living for. Did Samson know what he was living for, either? 

He sighed. Maybe he really was a coward. Maybe this bloody mage-Templar problem would force him to find something to live for. Maybe Roman was right, and what he really needed was to pick a side. Support the mages, or support the Templars? Support the monsters, or support the people who made those monsters what they were? 

Support the freedom of mages, or support the freedom of the Templars who’d been leashed and brainwashed just as he had been?

Maker’s fucking balls, he thought morosely.

He lay in the dark on the couch for a long time sliding in and out of a restless sort of doze, unable to settle his mind enough to properly sleep. He was vaguely aware of the fire slowly dwindling down to mere embers until the whole study was wreathed in shadows. When a shadow broke away from the gloom to move toward him from the stairs, he thought it was a dream.

The shadow paused at the end of the couch. “Monty won’t shut the fuck up,” she said. “He keeps whimpering.”

Samson frowned at her through the gloom. “So?”

She folded her arms and said nothing for a moment, and Samson stared at her, half-convinced she was just a figment of his imagination. 

“Come upstairs,” Roman muttered.

He raised his eyebrows. “Eh?”

“I said come upstairs,” she said a little more loudly. “I don’t think he’ll shut up until you come upstairs.”

He blinked blearily at her. In the feeble glow of the dying fire, he could just make out the glimmer of her silk robe and her customary pouty scowl. 

He frowned at her, then closed his eyes. “I’m staying here, Bird.”

She clicked her tongue. “You’re telling me you like sleeping on the couch?”

“That’s right,” he lied. Truthfully, his lower back was hurting, but it was still better than sleeping on the ground in Lowtown. Most importantly, it was better than doing what Roman wanted.

For a second, there was silence. Then she poked his shoulder hard. “Come on, don’t be so fucking stubborn. I know your back must be hurting.”

He scowled. Bloody know-it-all, he thought. “It is not,” he muttered.

“Then why do you complain about it all the time?” she said archly.

He opened his eyes and glared at her. “Go back to bed, Roman. I’ve had enough of your nugshit.”

She stared stonily at him. Then, to his surprise, she started to climb onto the couch.

He hastily tried to shuffle away from her, but she doggedly settled herself over his hips. He grabbed her hips and started trying to lift her off. “Bird, quit it—” 

She untied her robe and opened it, and Samson stopped breathing: she was naked under the robe. Naked, no panties, no bra, her dusky little nipples hard… 

His cock pulsed, and his mouth was flooded with a rush of saliva. Infuriated by his own traitorous body and at Roman for making him this way, he gripped her bare hip and tried to push her away. 

She pulled his hand away and placed it on her breast. “Come upstairs,” she said. 

Her nipple was a perfect taut little bud. He roughly kneaded her breast, then twisted her nipple suddenly, wanting to hurt her and make her purr at the same time.

She gasped and arched into his hand, then fisted her hand in his hair and pulled his head back, and Samson burst out a groan: her mouth was suddenly on his neck, her teeth nipping at his skin and sending jolts of pain and pleasure from his throat down to his groin. She nipped the base of his throat then started to suck, and for a moment, Samson let himself enjoy it. He wasn’t giving in, mind — he was just… letting himself enjoy this for a second before pushing her away. 

She sucked hard at his skin and started rubbing his cock through his breeches, and he groaned and lifted his hips. “You bitch…” he moaned.

“Come upstairs,” she whispered, and she bit the side of his neck. 

He jolted at the pain, then gasped with pleasure as she squeezed his cock through his breeches. Then she was grabbing his hand again and pulling it between her legs, making him touch her wet curls– 

She pressed his fingers into her folds, and a red-hot roar of lust tore through his body. She was sopping wet and spreading herself over his fingers, and he wanted her so badly that it pissed him off. 

She groaned and undulated shamelessly over his hand, and Samson tried — rather feebly — to pull his hand away. “Not here,” he hissed.

She tightened her grip on his wrist and continued to rub herself against his fingers, and Samson stared at the meeting point of her pussy and his hand for a second before forcing his eyes back to her face. “I said not here,” he complained, and he tried to pull his hand away again. “Get off.”

She dug her nails into his wrist. “Make me,” she breathed.

Make me. Her provocative words, these words she said on purpose when she was trying to rile him into roughing her up... Something hot and angry and wild suddenly snapped inside of him.

He wrested his hand away from her and grabbed her by the throat, and her lips fell open in a gasp. She clawed at his wrist and tilted her hips down toward his groin, but Samson didn’t let her make contact; with his hand at her throat, he clumsily forced her off of his lap until they were both standing up.

He released her throat to grip her chin instead. “Get upstairs,” he bit off.

She curled her lip. “What happened to ‘I’m not going upstairs’?”

He lifted her chin higher. “If you’re going to rub yourself on me like a bloody cat in heat, I’m not letting you do it down here.”

She laughed mockingly. “Let me? Like you can tell me what to do.”

He tightened his grip on her chin — enough that it had to be hurting her — then squeezed her buttcheek in his other hand. “Get upstairs, Bird,” he snarled. “I’m sick of hearing it.”

“No,” she said belligerently. “I want to fuck down here.”

He spanked her suddenly, satisfied when she jolted and gasped. “Get upstairs,” he commanded.

“I said no,” she spat.

He dug his fingers harshly into her buttock until she gasped in pain. “Then I’ll just have to take you upstairs,” he hissed. Without warning, he bent down and hefted her over his shoulder in an undignified carry.

She squawked, then thumped his back as he made his way to the stairs. “Hey! Put me down—”

He spanked her upraised ass. “Shut it, Bird,” he ordered. He began carrying her up the stairs, and he was secretly pleased when he realized that carrying her was easier than it had been a couple months ago before he started sleeping in her house. 

Must be those three square meals Orana makes, he thought idly. Then, just for the hell of it, he spanked Roman’s ass again.

She yelped, then thumped his back. “You’re such a fucking asshole,” she hissed.

He huffed, and without replying, he flipped up the hem of her robe and pressed the tips of his fingers into her pussy. 

She jolted and gasped, and Samson smirked, satisfied at having found a way to shut her up. He continued to caress her slick folds as they ascended the stairs, and by the time he was stepping into Roman’s open bedroom, she was breathing hard over his shoulder. 

Monty was resting his chin on his paws in front of the fireplace. When Samson and Roman came in, he sat up attentively. 

“Go to the washroom,” Samson ordered, and he unceremoniously dumped Roman onto the bed. He still wasn’t used to having the mabari stand witness when he and Roman were doing the deed. 

Monty dutifully trotted away, and Roman struggled to sit up and push her hair out of her face. “Don’t tell him what to do,” she snapped. “He’s—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Samson said coldly. He kicked the bedroom door shut, then started unlacing his breeches. 

Roman leaned back on her elbows and sneered at him. “Look at you, the big strong boy throwing me around. You want to shut me up, hm? How’re you going to do that?”

His blood roared at her taunting tone. He pulled his throbbing cock out of his breeches and stalked toward the bed, then crawled between her legs and wrapped his fingers around her throat.

He pushed her down so her back was flush to the bed, then started rubbing his cock between her legs. Her lips parted on a moan, and the sound of it made his blood thrill even more. 

She thrust her hips toward him, and Samson squeezed her throat. “I’m going to fuck your mouth, and you’re going to like it,” he snarled. “You’re going to like it so much that you’re going to rub your pussy until you come with my knob in your throat.”

She mewled and jerked her hips, pressing her sleek heat against his cock. Overcome with the pleasure and the heat of her, he leaned in and kissed her hard. 

She parted her lips and licked his tongue, then bit his lower lip, and he grunted as the sharpness of her teeth sent yet another tantalizing pulse of pleasure pounding to his cock. He shoved his tongue ruthlessly into her mouth for a moment before pulling away, then crawled over her body until he was straddling her. 

He lifted her chin with one hand. “Open your fucking mouth,” he snapped. 

“Fuck you,” she breathed, and she obediently opened her mouth.

Without any hesitation, he leaned forward and slid his cock between her lips. She suckled the head of his cock, and a jolt of ecstasy tore its way from his groin up to his throat in a helpless gasp. 

He curled his hips toward her and grabbed her hand. “Touch yourself,” he rasped.

She pulled her hand out of his grip and reached between her legs, and he watched raptly as her eyelids fluttered with pleasure. Soon she was writhing beneath him, her lips a tight suction on his shaft, and Samson thrust into her mouth with greater zeal as his pleasure rose in time with her own. 

A breathless minute later, she released his cock to cry out in climax, and Samson greedily watched the pleasure twisting her pretty face before taking hold of his cock. “I said to come with my knob in your throat,” he snarled, and he pushed his cock toward her lips.

She eagerly lifted her head to take him deep, and he grunted and thrust into her mouth as she moaned her pleasure around his cock. When the shuddering of her climax had stilled, he finally pulled his length from between her lips.

He crawled off of her and kneeled between her legs again, then ruthlessly looped her knees over his arms and planted his palms on either side of her hips. “I’m going to fuck your brains out,” he gasped, and he plunged himself inside of her.

She cried out, a hoarse and guttural cry of pleasure, and Samson slammed into her in a rough and mindless rhythm, riled almost beyond reason by her taunting and his anger and the beautiful lanky length of her naked body beneath him. Her fingers were digging into his forearms, her nails biting into her skin with little pricks of pain that only served to enhance his ecstasy, and as his pleasure continued to rise, he dipped his head down and took her nipple in his mouth.

He suckled hard, hard enough to bruise her flesh, and Roman arched beneath him as best she could despite the constraints of her legs over his arms. “F-fuck!” she cried. “Fuck, fuck, come on, fuck me hard…”

He slammed into her even harder, so hard that he would have sworn it would hurt her if not for the rapture that was twisting her face. She moaned and scraped his arms, and he gasped against her chest, and when his climax suddenly crashed over him, he bit her nipple. 

She keened with pleasure and writhed beneath him. “Fuck yes,” she sobbed. 

He didn’t reply, too busy gasping and thrusting jerkily into her as he came. Then, in a final fit of spite, he pulled out of her and thrust against her belly instead.

A few thick white spurts landed on her belly, and Roman twisted her hips. “You asshole,” she whined.

He didn’t reply, focused instead on catching his breath. When his heart had slowed to a less-than-frantic pulse, he sat back on his heels and smirked at her. “Serves you right,” he said.

She shot him a dirty look, and Samson smiled more widely at her, feeling oddly at peace. Roman looked so thoroughly spent, and her body bore the obvious marks of his work: his toothmarks on her breast, his semen on her belly, her own wetness smeared on the insides of her thighs and on the bed. For some reason, seeing her look this way made him feel more relaxed than he’d felt all day.

He pulled off his shirt and flopped down on the bed beside her. “I guess I’ll stay here and get some sleep,” he said.

She huffed and sat up. “Whatever. Do what you want, I don’t care.” She slid off of the bed and went to the washroom to clean up, and Monty trotted out of the washroom. 

Samson hastily tucked his cock back into his breeches, then gave Monty a sheepish look. “Sorry about before,” he muttered. “She just… she drives me up the wall sometimes.”

Monty wagged his tail and gave him a big canine grin, and Samson smiled faintly at the mabari before shuffling under the blankets. When Roman emerged from the washroom a couple of minutes later, Samson was glad to note that she was wearing her usual slight frown instead of an angry one.

She took her robe off and hung it on her painted changing screen, then put out the bedside lamp and crawled under the blankets. She settled on her back beside him, and as they lay there side-by-side, not talking nor touching, Samson began to wonder if he should say something.

Roman spoke first. “You’re not a coward,” she said quietly.

His heart flipped. He didn’t reply, unsure what to say. After all, he wasn’t totally sure that he wasn’t one.

She spoke again, and her tone was a little harder this time. “I don’t think you’re a fucking coward, Samson.”

“Then why’d you call me one?” he said.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I was... mad.”

“You’re always mad,” he pointed out.

“Would you–” She broke off, then exhaled sharply and sat up on her elbow to look down at him. “I didn’t mean it, okay? Sometimes shit just comes out of my mouth and I – I didn’t fucking mean it. You’re not a coward.”

“You still think I need to pick a side, though,” he said.

She was quiet for a moment. Then she laid down and rolled onto her side facing away from him. “I didn’t think it would be so fucking hard to know which one you’d pick,” she said. 

He gazed morosely at her naked shoulder blade. She wasn’t wrong; he had no real reason to side with the Templars, after all. It wasn’t like he’d joined them because he believed in their cause. Really, he had every reason to hate them — or not the Templars per se, but the Chantry’s control over them. Whether Roman saw it or not, the Chantry controlled the Templars just as much as they controlled the mages. The leashes they used were just of a different kind. 

Really, if it came down to a war between the Templars and the mages, there was no reason for Samson to side with the Templars. He just wished… 

He sighed. Honestly, he sort of wished he could be a Templar without joining the Order again. If he could just get his hands on some real lyrium, the real good blue stuff so he could have his Templar powers back, then he’d be healthy and strong again. He could walk through this city with his head held high, and he could fight back when anyone tried to beat him down. And he could use his powers for a good purpose, too — to be the kind of Templar that Roman would tolerate: the kind of Templar who stepped in to stop the abominations and to talk the scared mages down from doing stupid things. 

If he had his Templar powers back, he’d be able to do something if Roman became an abomination. Maybe he’d be able to stop her or calm her down so she didn’t need to die.

His gut writhed. Stop it, he thought sternly. There was no point thinking about this any further; it was all a pipe dream. There was no way he would get his hands on real lyrium again. 

He gazed at Roman’s naked spine with an aching heart. Then he rolled toward her and pulled her back against his chest. 

He hugged her around her waist, and she tsked. “You’re squeezing me.” 

“Yeah,” he said huskily.

They laid together in silence for a moment, her spine flush to his chest and his knees tucked behind hers. Then Samson spoke quietly into the dark. “I know you don’t want a war, Bird.”

She scoffed. “Obviously.”

He didn’t reply. A minute later, she spoke again. “I don’t get in fights because I want to, you know.”

He frowned slightly. “Then why’re you always fighting all the time?”

“I’m not the one picking the fucking fights,” she snapped. “The whole world keeps picking fights with me.” Her voice cracked, and Samson felt her body tensing in his arms. 

His throat started to ache. He swallowed and hugged her harder, and she wiggled her shoulders slightly. “You’re crushing me,” she complained.

Her voice was thick with tears. Samson closed his stinging eyes. “Shut up, Bird,” he whispered, and he kept hugging her.

She sniffled quietly, and Samson held her in silence until her body started to relax. When she spoke again, her voice was hard, as though to make up for her tears. “I just want a fucking moment of peace. Just a fucking second of calm. That’s what I really want.”

He breathed quietly in the ensuing silence. Her hair smelled like vanilla and almond and sweat, and her skin was soft against his chest. The room was dark and her sheets were warm, and the only sounds were his breathing and the soft rumble of Monty snoring on the carpet by the fireplace. 

“It’s pretty calm right now,” Samson murmured.

For a long moment, she said nothing. Then she pulled his hand away from her midriff. 

She twined her fingers with his, and a nearly-painful spear of tenderness pierced his chest. She was such a pain in the ass, fighting with him one second and making him angry-fuck her the next, then being just a little bit sweet like this and making him feel bad for fighting with her in the first place… 

Bloody damn bird, he thought. She was fierce and angry and so fucking vulnerable, and Samson wished he could do something to save her from herself. If only he could be a Templar without actually joining the Order again. If only he could get access to some proper lyrium again…

His guts were knotted with longing. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her hair, and eventually he fell into an uneasy sleep.