#his little quick angry waddle
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jrueships · 9 months ago
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damn. i was gonna say it wasn't a good throw but why'd the commentator have to too 😭
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bunnis-monsters · 3 months ago
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I saw you wanted fluff so maybe naga husband and his chubby wife going on a picnic with their young hatchlings and he teaches them how to sit in the sun to digest food but mamas still a little sore from labor so she joins them!
You watch, walking slowly as your husband and chubby little hatchlings slither ahead of you. You’re just exhausted, wanting to rest, but staying cooped up in your husband’s den has got you going a bit stir-crazy.
He suggested a picnic, and usually he would carry you, but today he was a bit preoccupied with the children, making sure they stayed in line and didn’t start too far from the path.
You continued to waddle, wiping the sweat from your brow. It was hot and humid, but the picnic was right by a lake, meaning you’d be able to cool off!
As your husband laid out the blanket and fed the hatchlings, you dipped into the water for a quick swim, sighing in relief once you had cooled down a bit.
Unfortunately, the water seemed to chill you too much.
Your husband was purring, watching them swallow small mice and frogs, gently nuzzling their heads. He was a really affectionate father, not like the myths you had heard about nagas. He didn’t eat your young now send them off after birth, no, he nurtured and tough them his way.
“Come along, little ones. There’s a nice rock in the sun.”
As they slithered away, your teeth chattered, and you wanted to whine and complain to your husband so he’d coddle and kiss you.
But you knew he was just trying to take the responsibility of taking care of so many hatchling right after birth off of your shoulders, so you couldn’t be upset.
Instead, you watched, a bit intrigued as they sunbathed on a large rock, the little ones letting out satisfied coos. They weren’t like human babies, they came out slithering and able to eat entire animals whole… but there were still your babies, and watching them babble and stretch out in the sun gave you cuteness aggression.
You waddled to the rock. Your husband looked up for a moment, ready to do whatever you needed, but he settled back down when you curled up at his side.
“You’re cold…” he said softly, his forked tongue darting out to catch your scent.
“Yeah, that water was nice, but it felt like I was freezing when I stepped out.”
He nodded, nuzzling his face into your neck. The little ones whined and slithered to you, resting their heads on your soft belly and legs, wanting to be close to their mama.
The little family took a nap out in the sun together, all happy and warm.
———————
SFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @peachesdabunny @misswonderfrojustice @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @zyettemoon1800 @kassandra-hawthorne @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @readeryn68 @danielle143 @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @hammerhead96-blog @bubblez-blop @snugglyshoji @wanderlustingcastaway @amberexe2 @swasti8854 @an-ever-angry-bi
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nsharks · 2 years ago
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Can I ask more of Ghost with pregnant!reader? Like she is being totally emotional because she wants specific food and when he gets exactly the food she wants she cries because he's being so thoughtful and he's just like: ???? (I mean growing an human it's haaard)
pregnancy fluff with ghost (he's very patient with you)
Ghost loves the way you wear pregnancy. Your bump has become somewhat of a fascination for him— Can't believe you're growing my son in there. He likes to press firm kisses over the entirety of it, cup the underside with his palm, searching for any movement as he sighs in disbelief that this is truly his life now.
He's a bit obsessed with it all.
But what Ghost doesn't love about your pregnancy is how often, and at random, you begin to cry.
One night he's brought home takeout for you. He sets it on the table and searches for you. When you're not in the bedroom, he panics for a moment, but it fades once he finally finds you in the bathroom. With the lights off. Taking a bath with only a candle on the counter.
"Why are you bathing in the dark?" he asks, flicking on the light.
"No, no," you practically whine and he turns it back off.
"What's wrong?"
"Just... the light. It's too bright." He hears you sigh and there's a few little splashes as you rub over your stomach. "I'm trying to relax."
"Well, I've got your dinner and you never eat it once it's cold so c'mon."
He helps you out of the bathtub, grumbling something about how it's not safe to bathe in the bloody dark, but he presses a kiss to your damp forehead and lovingly towels you off. Helps you change back into your sweats, his shirt.
But when you get into the kitchen and look into the bag he's brought, Ghost sees a look on your face that he knows.
His chest tightens.
A frown trembles at your lips.
Oh, bloody hell.
You press a hand to your forehead and begin weeping, pitifully, the tears quietly stream down your cheeks as you shake your head. He is quick to hover behind you, ghosting a hand on your hip.
"Hey... hey, what is it?" he tries to ask as calmly as he can, but your crying (no matter how often it happened) always spikes a rush of fear in him. All of Ghost's fears begin and end with you, and now, the child you carry.
"This isn't what I wanted," you tell him with a voice that quivers.
"What?" He takes a deep breath, speaks slowly. "This is what you always want from there, love. Got you the same thing."
"I know, but I— I wanted the chicken this time."
"Why didn't you tell me that?"
"I thought I did," you wipe your cheeks, but the tears don't stop. "I think I forgot to."
"Forgot to tell me what you wanted," Ghost murmurs, not angry. Amused almost. He brushes the hair from your forehead. "Right, then. Nothin' that can't be fixed, yeah?"
And he drives back to the restaurant because the knot in his chest hurts and he knows it'll only dissipate if your tears do the same. But when he returns, and you see that he's actually come back with the order you forgot to tell him in the first place, you only cry harder, waddling up to him and gripping the collar of his coat. Your wet cheeks burying into his chest.
"Oh, Jesus," he says, confused and at a loss, his hand settling carefully on your back. "Sweetheart... what is it—"
"You're so thoughtful," you whimper. Breaking out into a sob. And it completely throws him off guard. "I don't think I deserve you."
"Don't deserve me, huh?" he mutters with a sigh, closing his eyes and holding you firmer now.
He can remember when he used to say the same thing— but now you are his wife, your swollen belly is pressed against him and even though he has no idea how to make you stop crying, he just holds you and says gently into your hair:
"You deserve everything, alright? Growin' my kid in there can't be easy. And if he's anythin' like his old man, then I know he's wanting some dinner."
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yeonniesblog · 2 years ago
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“y/n stop acting like you are in a velocity edit" akaashi sighs, putting down his pen on the table, he was just trying to complete his assignment which was due this week but God forbid if you would let him.
you huff out in annoyance, your boyfriend is so annoying, so what if you were swaying to the beats in a slow motion when you stumbled upon a catchy tiktok audio, it's not like you forget your earphones at home intentionally.
and not to mention you should be the one who is mad, if it wasn't for the pretty mouth canceling your date's plan you swear you would have thrown hands on your busy boyfriend.
and honestly you are doing him a favor by letting him be in your presence, flipping your hair back you feed your ego with your own thoughts.
akaashi sighs, he can already tell what your narcissistic ass might be thinking, he turns his chair around, now facing you. “come here” he mumbles softly, your quirk your brows, hmm fishy.
but you still waddle quickly to him, his chair is pressed against his desk, and he taps his laps. you stop infront of him, giving him a icky expression as a response to his tap.
“what? are you trying to copy atsumu and his side chicks?” akaashi has a quick flashback of the star setter with his random hookup as soon as you mentioned the name, his expression changes to being disgusted in a second.
“first of all no” he clearly remembers the girl sticking to atsumu as a glue on his lap and using too much tongue while making out, Infront of everyone at the party, no he doesn't wants to recreate that. “and second of all, weren't your craving for my attention”
“well you should ofcourse return it since you stole all my attention, you fuckin’ robber ” you sit yourself on his lap, putting your weight on him hesitantly, but he cradles you so swifty in his arms that you swear you get weak in the knees. sza was right, you needed a big boy, akaashi is your big boy.
“cheesy” he chuckles, even though he admits you are cheesy as fuck but he can't help but break a smile at what you say with that cute angry pout.
he grabs your ass pulling you closer, fuck this guy will make you horny unintentionally, if his hands just rides a little above, a littl— “but stop saying those stuff to me though” akaashi continues, interuppting your unholy thoughts.
“huh? oh. what stuff” you burrow your eyebrows.
“stuff that makes me wanna kiss the hell out of you” he says it so nonchalantly like, like it didn't just leave your cheeks to become tinted red, you tug at his short messy hair.
“who is the cheesy one now” you hit his arms softly, god even his muscles are hot.
“you always leave me feeling giddy and shit” you roll yours eyes, holding his face in your hands “and superrr horny but that's beside the point” a grin breaks out on his pretty lips as a response to your confession.
akaashi keiji smiles really occasionally but when he does, you swear he has you swooning over his feet, his blue eyes follow yours through his glasses and there is a comfortable silent hanging in the room with you too being so close.
“fuck I love your face” you grip his cheeks like he is some kind of a baby.
“then sit on it”
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yawn-junn · 5 months ago
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Hey sweetie💜 How are you? Wish you an amazing day and a wonderful night
I saw your requests are open for boynextdoor so can I ask for some headcanons of bf!Leehan? I imagine that he would be such a cute boyfriend💜
˚₊‧꒰აLeehan Boyfriend Hc໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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ִֶָ 𓂃Much obliged too: Anon, Leehan, Xikers
ִֶָ 𓂃inscription: I'm so sorry this took so long to come out, I got really really super busy so I was picking whatever was on top and I could do real quick, but now I have more free time since my opossum's are officially ok to go out into the wild and when this was requested i was in and out of the hospital (around this time last year) so an entire year IM SO SORRYY
ִֶָ 𓂃Synopsis: a inside look on how leehan is with his partners (Not factual based off my imagination)
ִֶָ 𓂃cautionary tale: kissing : jealousy : PDA : food : blood (period) : Insecurities :
ִֶָ 𓂃 @mxlly143 - @cherriruto - @bunnie-stay-p1ece - @wonootnoot - @rikutrash - @babigriin
06/18/24
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ִֶָ 𓂃He loves teasing you, but he also knows his limits if you're vibe is just even the slightest of bit off after what he said he's quick to apologize and place kisses all over you're face.
ִֶָ 𓂃His favorite pass time is to play with you're hair or hands whatever he can reach really.
ִֶָ 𓂃Whenever he talks to you he softens his tone almost to a whisper to not spook you.
ִֶָ 𓂃If you're asleep next to him he'll turn off all the lights turn down his phone face towards you and turn the brightness down so you won't be disturbed.
ִֶָ 𓂃Often he lays his head on you're stomach, if he hears even the slightest of rumble from hunger he's jumping up and bringing you food.
ִֶָ 𓂃He likes matching weird stuff with you, doesn't even have to be clothes or jewelry or phone charms, it could be like a little porcelain statue or something.
ִֶָ 𓂃He always has you're favorite food or drink on deck, waiting for the smallest of sign that you want it.
ִֶָ 𓂃He gives a lot of affection, he does expect a lot in return or at least something where you give back.
ִֶָ 𓂃If you're on you're period, and it gets on you're pants to where it's noticable he's quick to back hug you waddling you to the bathroom.
ִֶָ 𓂃He is protective of you, if someone gives you a slight eye he's jumping in front of you and distracting you making sure their not gonna harm you.
ִֶָ 𓂃He adores literally anything you do, if you're even the slightest bit more cute than usual he's on the floor crying about you.
ִֶָ 𓂃He loves playing, like messing with you, he'll tug on you're hair or clothes just to annoy you.
ִֶָ 𓂃His favorite thing is to see you pout when he's messing with you, he'll leave kisses on you're cheeks and jaw when you pout.
ִֶָ 𓂃He doesn't really get angry jealous more of sad jealous, he gets insecure, that you would find the other person was better than him, he does need a lot of reassurance.
ִֶָ 𓂃Now if you're insecure, he'll create an entire PowerPoint of how amazing you are and how bunch he loves you.
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headfullofpresley · 2 years ago
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Mommy's Kissing Santa Claus
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Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader
Summary: Caroline considers Santa to be her own personal superhero, but she isn't too happy about catching him kissing you. Because no matter what, her Daddy will always be number one.
Word count: 5,5K
Warning(s): fluff, domestic life, Caroline being sad/angry, Elvis dressing up as Santa, smut; just a quick morning quickie that isn't too detailed tbh, roleplaying (kinda.. lol).
Author's note: this was requested a while ago by anon, so nonnie, i hope this finds its way back to ya! enjoy luvs <3
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“I saw Mommy kissin’ Santa Claus underneath the mistletoe last night. She didn’t see me creep down the stairs to have a peep; she thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom, fast asleep. Then I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus underneath his beard so snowy white. Oh what a laugh it would’ve been if Daddy had only seen, Mommy kissin’ Santa Claus last night.”
Five year old Caroline adored Christmas. The decorations, the songs, the movies, the presents… but especially, Santa Claus. The bearded man that she believed flew across the world in his sleigh in the span of one night was a God to her.
While most children would weep upon the sight of a strange man in a red suit and a long white beard, Caroline was over the moon every single year. Even as a baby and before she could even speak a word, she would giggle and run up to whoever was dressed up as the man as soon as she could walk – or waddle.
She had no idea it was usually her grandfather or The Colonel who’d pay her a quick visit during Christmas day.
Caroline was the definition of a true Daddy’s girl, but Santa came pretty darn close to stealing Elvis’ spot during the month of December.
“Daddy, that’s wrong! Santa doesn’t have a green hat!” the tiny blonde giggled as she sat on top of the kitchen counter, looking at the freshly baked Christmas cookies her and Elvis spend their time on this afternoon. He purposely colored the hat of the Santa shaped cookie green, because he knew those little hawk eyes of hers would notice immediately.
“Maybe he does this year, honey,” he smirked at his daughter, licking some icing off his finger as he watched her laugh at him before shaking her head and returning her attention back on the tray of cookies. She squeezed a tiny dot of brown coloring gel on one of the reindeers, swinging her legs back and forth happily.
The red boots that she begged you to wear this morning were still on her feet, hitting the kitchen cabinets softly with her movements.
“You’re funny, Daddy.. but these cookies have to be perfect!” she told him with a stern voice. “What if Santa thinks we’re makin’ fun of him and won’t eat them? Mommy says sending letters to the North Pole takes a very long time,”
Elvis was often mesmerized by his daughter. Not only because she reminded him so much of both you and him, but also because she often spoke like she was much older. He figured it was probably because she spend so much time around adults when she wasn’t in school and she’d pick up anything she would hear.
Sometimes it caused for very funny conversations with her and sometimes she’d just embarrass Elvis and you when she had overheard the both of you talk about something or someone that was not meant to ever leave the four walls of this house.
Luckily, it had never been anything too serious.
“If Santa don’t like ‘em, I will deliver all those little apology letters of yours to him myself,” Elvis chuckled as he put the cookie he was working on on a Christmas decorative plate that had been hidden in the back of one of the cabinets. “But he will love your cookies. I bet he can’t get ‘nough of ‘em. Have you seen that fella’s tummy?”
Caroline looked up at him with wide eyes, taking the cookie with the green hat and shoving it into his hand. “Don’t be mean to Santa, Daddy, or you won’t get a present!”
He let out a hearty laugh, biting off the hat of the cookie as he squeezed her toes through her boots, making her squeal as she giggled and stuck her tongue out to him.
When all cookies were drawn on and she was satisfied with them, she took the plate Elvis handed her after he put her down on the ground and walked toward the staircase in the foyer. You had put a small table and a dining room chair right next to the stairs especially for Santa, your daughter unaware that you’d move the furniture back as soon as she was asleep and the cookies were eaten by you and her father.
“I need to get my drawing!” she told Elvis as she put the plate down and climbed up the stairs to get whatever she made for Santa to put it down with the cookies.
As she disappeared into her bedroom, you entered the house with shopping bags clinging in your hands and snowflakes covering your hair. You let out a huff as you closed the door behind you with your elbow, wiggling the cold and red tip of your nose.
“Next year I am back on baking duty,” you told your husband, trying not to crack a smile as he laughed at you and made his way over to you, taking the bags from your hands.
Usually, he would be the one doing the last minute shopping or have the things you needed to be delivered to the house but Caroline insisted he would stay home today and bake those cookies with her. All you really needed were some small presents for Vernon and Dee and some last minute groceries for tomorrow’s dinner.
You gave Mary the week off so she could spend time with her family during the holidays and you could provide a feast for yours.
“Sorry darlin’, can’t help it that she loves her Daddy more,” Elvis grinned as he took the presents out of the bags and put them underneath the tree in the living area before Caroline came back down. “If it makes ya feel any better, she got mad at me for talkin’ shit about her hero of the year,”
You didn’t miss the roll of his eyes and laughed, pulling the scarf you were wearing from around your neck. “She does not love you more, you’re just easier to manipulate,” you grinned teasingly at him, letting him take the grocery bags from you as well as he wandered back to you. “And she loves Santa more than you,”
You weren’t bothered by the fact that your daughter was a Daddy’s girl because when he’d be away from home and on the road, she would always stick to your side like glue. Elvis on the other side wasn’t so unbothered, hating that Caroline would not stop talking about Santa, Santa, Santa.
You loved to tease him with it.
“She loves that fool more than both of us,” he stuck his tongue out to you, walking into the kitchen to unpack the groceries and put them away. He chuckled softly to himself at the sound of your laugh and Caroline thundering down the stairs, running into your arms as soon as she saw you.
“Mommy, look! I made this for Santa to put with the cookies me and Daddy made,” she shoved the drawing in your face as you carried her toward the little nook you had created for Santa Claus himself.
“Wow Care, that’s beautiful! He will love it, baby,” you smiled at her, kissing her cheek as you placed her down so she could neatly place the drawing she made on the table, next to the plate of decorated cookies. The drawing consisted of three stick figures – you and Elvis being the taller ones and her being the small one in the middle.
Ofcourse, she had drawn Santa as well, only he was in an array of red crayon. You could only really recognize who it was by the white beard she managed to get quite accurate. It was cute.
“Did you buy enough milk, Mommy? He will be a lot thirsty,”
“Very thirsty, not a lot, baby,” you corrected her with a soft laugh, kneeling down next to her to look at the cookies. You could see which ones were decorated by her and which ones by Elvis. It didn’t really matter, they’d taste the same to you. “But yes, I have plenty of milk. We’ll pour him a glass before you go to bed, okay?”
“Two glasses?”
“If you’re a big girl and eat all of your veggies tonight, we’ll give him three!” you told her and she smiled excitedly, wrapping her arms around your neck as she leaned into you.
You were pretty sure she would definitely not eat all of her vegetables–she was her father’s daughter, after all–but you’d give her what she wanted and put three glasses of milk ready for Santa, anyways.
You found it hard to tell her no, because she was such a sweet girl.
She was your entire world.
 
Caroline surprised both you and Elvis as she shoved every single vegetable on her plate in her little mouth. It took her a while to chew everything down and she was the last to finish, but she couldn’t disappoint Santa, could she?
After sliding down chimneys all night, he must be extremely hungry and thirsty and she worked hard for those three glasses of milk.
You let them both go upstairs after dinner so Elvis could give her a bath and put her in her pyjamas as you cleaned the table and did the dishes.
Besides Mary, you basically gave everyone time off because you wanted to spend Christmas Eve with just your husband and daughter. Tomorrow the family and some of the guys would come over and the house will be rowdy again, so you were excited for the relaxing and quiet night you had planned.
You quite enjoyed yourself in the kitchen, cleaning and listening to the background noise that was the TV in the dining room.
 
You turned the TV off as you were done in the kitchen and heard Elvis and Caroline coming down the stairs. After getting some drinks, you followed them into the TV room and got ready for the movie Caroline had recently become obsessed with.
Scrooge.
She watched it with Dee’s sons a month ago and then made you and Elvis watch it with her again.
And again, and again, and again.
Neither of you could say no to her, even though you couldn’t care less about this movie.
Caroline snuggled in between you and Elvis, leaning into his side as her legs rested on your lap. She’d speak up now and then to point out a part in the movie that she liked and wanted you to pay attention to. But she had been running around all day, playing in the snow, helping Daddy feed the horses, baking cookies – she was tired, so tired that she couldn’t keep her eyes from fluttering shut despite loving the movie so much.
“Mommy!” she gasped softly as she shocked awake due to a loud noise from the TV, looking at you with wide eyes. “If I fall a-asleep.. wake me up, okay? I-I can’t miss.. Santa..” she mumbled, laying her head on Elvis’ chest as she pulled her legs in, holding onto his shirt with her tiny hand.
She didn’t seem to believe you when you told her that you would and looked up at her father. “Daddy, don’t forget, okay?!” she urged him, her voice thick with exhaustion and though her eyes were heavy, she wouldn’t put her head back down unless she got confirmation.
Elvis laughed softly as he looked at her, kissing her forehead. “I promise, yittle. Put your little head down,” he whispered to her, gently pushing her head back down on his chest as he tickled his fingers through her hair.
It didn’t take her long to drift off into a deep slumber.
You and Elvis didn’t wake her up, deciding that she needed all the sleep she could get for Christmas day tomorrow. She probably wouldn’t be too happy about it once she’d wake up and realise it was the next day, but she’d forgive you for it later. Especially when she’d see the presents she got from you and Elvis, her innocent little mind believing that they were from Santa himself.
 
“I’ll get her to bed,” you whispered as the movie ended which you and Elvis had talked your whole way through. Too comfortable on the couch to turn the TV off and move into the living room, plus Caroline looked too cute sleeping and you didn’t want to wake her. But it was getting late and you and your husband could use some rest as well.
“I’ll be upstairs,” he told you as you picked up Caroline in your arms, kissing your lips as he silently followed you up the stairs. You walked up the main staircase as Elvis made his way to the living room.
Thankfully, Caroline didn’t wake up when you carried her up the stairs and put her to bed. She mumbled something in her sleep and fuzzed in the sheets a little, but she went back to snoring softly before you left the room. You took the opportunity to clean up some of her toys that were scathered around the room and put the clothes away she wore today that Elvis put on her chair.
When you closed the door behind you afterwards and walked down the stairs, you frowned as Elvis was nowhere to be seen. The TV in both the dining and music room were turned off. The house felt empty.
“El? Baby?” you called out softly, looking around as you reached the bottom of the stairs.
Once he cleared his throat and you turned around, you saw him sitting in the Santa nook, cookie in hand and clothed in the Santa suit his dad or manager usually wore. You figured he must’ve put something around his waist, because he filled out the costume that would otherwise be too big for him.
“Merry Christmas to you, madame,” he grinned as he put the cookie down, slapping his hand on his thigh. You pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh as you walked over to him and sat down on his lap, slipping your arm around his shoulder. “Are these cookies for me, pretty lady?”
You cleared your throat a little, a soft giggle escaping your throat nonetheless. He had never dressed up as Santa for Caroline, both of you afraid that she would recognize him instantly.
You thought he looked ridiculous, but the way his voice deepened as he spoke to mimick a Santa like voice and his blue eyes were pretty much undressing you the second he saw you, you couldn’t help but feel a tingle run down your spine.
“They certainly are, mr. Claus. My daughter and husband made them especially for you,” you grinned, placing your hand on his stomach. Or rather the pillow you realised he had put in the costume.
“Your husband, you say?” he hummed, picking up the cookie once more as he took a bite of it now. “Isn’t he a lucky man to have such a beautiful little thing runnin’ around the place,” he put the cookie in front of your lips, his hand finding your ass as his arm was resting around your waist.
You feigned a gasp, gently pushing his hand away from your face as you looked at him. “My, mr. Claus. You’re very handsy, aren’t you? What would my husband think?”
“Well honey, your husband ain’t here, is he?”
He dropped the half eaten cookie back on the plate, wiping some crumbs off his fingers with the napkin you had put next to the plate earlier today. His palm squeezed your ass softly, pushing you firmly against his chest as your hand traveled over the hill of his fake belly and over his chest to wrap it around his neck.
“Now tell me, mrs. Presley. Have you been naughty or nice?”
His words made you want to rip that white beard he was sporting off his face and shut him up with a kiss. You didn’t feel awkward anymore at his little act–not when he was looking at you like that while his palm was shamelessly massaging your ass–and rather felt arousal seeping into your being.
Roleplaying wasn’t rare for you and Elvis, but you never thought him being dressed up as Santa Claus would get you as turned on as it did.
“I’m always very nice,” you told him as you laced your fingers together behind his neck, plastering your most innocent smile on your face. “But I can definitely be naughty too, mr. Claus,”
“Why don’t you show me how naughty you can be, darlin’?” his hand was quick as it reached up to his face, pulling the beard down before he leaned in to you. You giggled softly, gently swatting his hand away before you put the beard back in its place, kissing him.
He laughed softly against your lips but didn’t question you on it, instead fully trapping you against him as he wrapped his other arm around you as well, deepening the kiss.
 
Caroline shot up in her bed as soon as she awoke out of her sleep not even twenty minutes after you put her to bed. The little Presley girl didn’t think twice to hop out of her bed and walk over to the window, pouting heavily when she realised it was still night time and she was not downstairs waiting for her beloved Santa Claus right now.
You and Elvis promised to wake her and she felt betrayed that you hadn’t.
She had no idea what time it was and if you were still awake, but she figured getting caught would be worth the risk. Tiptoeing to her door, she slowly opened it and shuffled to the top of the stairs – when she saw that the only light that illuminated the foyer came from the Christmas tree, she very slowly and quietly stepped down a few steps.
Not wanting to scare Santa if he was already here, she peeked over the bannister of the stairs and widened her eyes as she saw the white bearded man with his signature red hat and suit sitting in the seat you and her had provided for him. She would’ve thundered down the stairs if it wasn’t for you sitting in his lap, lips pressed against those of her hero.
The one who provided her with the toys she wanted every year, the one who paid her a visit every Christmas day.
She loved him, but he was not her father.
Only Daddy was allowed to kiss you on the lips, not Santa Claus. Not nobody else.
Tears stung in her blue eyes as she grabbed onto the bars of the bannister, watching the kiss for a few seconds before she ran back up the stairs and hid underneath her blankets, silently crying herself to sleep.
You and Elvis were too occupied to hear Caroline coming up and down the stairs and as you tugged him up from the seat to take him into your shared bedroom, he quickly stole the plate of cookies along with him.
 
You and Elvis woke up early the next morning despite that Santa costume keeping you both awake until the dead of the night. You expected Caroline to stand at the side of your bed by now seeing it was already 8 o’clock because she could never wait until she was allowed to unwrap her presents. This morning, the bedroom was silent aside from Elvis’ soft snoring.
You sat up in the bed and looked at your husband, laughing softly as you took the Santa hat that was clutched in his hand, throwing it onto the floor. You leaned over to him and planted soft kisses on his shoulder and up to his face. He groaned softly as you woke him, his limbs stretching out in front of him before he turned to you and wrapped his arm around your waist, forcing you to lay back down next to him.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” you whispered with a soft laugh as he hid his face in your neck, squeezing you in his embrace.
“Mwerry Chwistmas, little one,” he hummed sleepily against your skin before he kissed your neck, the faint hint of your perfume that lingered in your neck making him roll onto his back, taking you right with him.
“We don’t get a lot of Christmas mornings like this one,” he mumbled as he grinned, his hands running up your thighs to squeeze at your hips.
He was right, you didn’t. You’d either be woken up by Caroline or by the doorbell that announced the arrival of today’s company. You told them to come a little later this year, so you and your family had time to actually eat breakfast and get ready for the day.
Now that you and Elvis had a bit of time for yourselves, he didn’t hesitate to take advantage of it.
His eyes caught sight of the Santa hat on the floor and he was quick to grab it before returning to his warm spot on the bed with you atop of him. “You had a lot of time with mr. Claus last night, it’s only fair if I get some sweetness from mrs. Claus,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he held out the hat to you.
You laughed and rolled your eyes, grasping it from his hand as you put it crookedly on top of your head. He bit his lip and moved his hands up your sides, slipping toward your front to squeeze your bare breasts in the palm of his hand.
Neither of you bothered to put on clothes before you fell asleep last night, so he didn’t need to wait for you to peel off pieces of fabric for you to raise your hips and sink down onto him.
He groaned as he moved his hands underneath his head, watching you ride him with a cocky smirk on his face.
“You look so sexy, baby,” he mummered as his eyes wandered down from your face to your bouncing breasts, voice sounding hoarse as it was still heavy with sleep. It only motivated you to go faster.
The idea of Caroline wandering into the room any minute was also on your mind, but Elvis didn’t mind you chasing your climax with slight hurry. He decided to help you get there even faster, reaching one hand down to circle your clit rapidly with his thumb.
The both of you had to bite down on your tongues to not moan too loud and while Elvis loved hearing you make those pretty sounds for him, he knew he could not make you truly scream while Caroline was also in the house.
Luckily for him, she had a sleepover planned at his father’s house next week.
Thanks to Elvis’ digit, you were quick to reach your climax and he followed not long after because of how visciously you were clenching around him.
“We should.. should check on Care,” you breathed as you ripped the fluffy hat off your head, throwing it across the bed before you leaned down and kissed your husband, who mumbled a soft agreement against your lips but made no movements to leave the warmth of the bed.
 
Caroline had been up before you and Elvis, but instead of walking into your room to tug on your blankets until either you or Elvis woke up, she went straight to the living room.
She was a girl on a mission today and it wasn’t a very fun one.
She was angry – at you, at Santa, and even a little bit at Elvis.
The little girl was still in disbelief of what she had seen last night. She just couldn’t wrap her little head around the fact that you kissed someone that was not Daddy and that Santa kissed you back.
And where was her Daddy while you exchanged smooches with her hero? He should’ve been there to stop it. Maybe even kick Santa’s ass a little.
She wandered over to the Christmas tree, taking the ornaments out one by one. Santa Claus didn’t deserve a nice tree anymore – if he would come by the house today, she would show him that she was angry with him.
Once you and Elvis came down the stairs and saw the bottom of the tree empty from its usual ornaments and Caroline gathering the sparkly garlands in her arms, you widened your eyes.
“Caroline, what is this?!” you exclaimed in confusion as you walked over to her to lift her up your hip. She crossed her arms firmly against her chest, the garlands crunching in her arms as she turned away from you with an angry expression taking over her features. “Caroline, I’m talkin’ to you,”
“I don’t want to talk to you!” she huffed as she stared at the chair by the stairs Santa had sat on last night.
“Caroline Mae Presley, don’t talk to your mother like that,” Elvis warned her as he stood next to you, looking at his daughter. But she didn’t look at him, hanging back in your arms so she’d be heavier for you to hold. “You know you’re not allowed to go downstairs before waking us. Why did you dissect the tree?”
She didn’t want to tell him or you how she was feeling, but she had a weakness for Elvis and she felt sad for him. He didn’t know what happened last night – while she was still young, she knew it was a bad thing. A bad thing that would hurt her precious father.
“I’m mad,” she mumbled and you allowed Elvis to take her out of your arms, walking over to the couch to sit down on it with her in his lap. She unfolded her arms and looked at her hands as you took the garlands out of her arms to put them back in their place.
“Yittle, if you’re mad, you come talk to Mommy or me. What does my tree have to do with anythin’, huh?” he grinned playfully at her as he tickled her sides. Usually, she would giggle and cheer up, but this time she pouted and pushed his big hand off.
“I’m mad.. m-mad.. at Santa,” she whispered, touching the small charm bracelet you gifted her for her last birthday that she never wanted to take off.
“Why, baby? Santa brought you a lot of presents,” Elvis told her as he nodded his head over to you. You smiled at your daughter as she finally looked up and you nodded, holding up a few wrapped presents Elvis put under the tree last night as you were putting Caroline to bed.
It looked like a smile was about to break the angry act she was putting on, but she huffed and looked down again. “I’m mad at Mommy too,”
You raised your eyebrows in confusion as you put the presents back under the tree, getting up to walk over to the couch. You sat down next to Elvis and looked at the pouty blonde in his lap, taking her small hands in yours. She pulled them out of your grip immediately, looking away.
Elvis saw the hurt in your eyes and sighed deeply, knowing playing nice would get him nowhere with his headstrong daughter.
He had finally met his match – it was more exhausting than he ever expected.
“Caroline, don’t be like that to your mother and tell us why you’re so mad. We don’t know what’s goin’ on if you don’t use your words,” he bounced his leg she was sitting on once, making her look at him with a glare.
Her face expressions softened a little when she saw both you and him looking at her so seriously and she couldn’t stop her bottomlip from twitching, her emotions getting the best of her. As soon as tears started welling up in her eyes, she pressed her face in Elvis’ chest and grabbed onto the shirt he was wearing.
“You and Mommy don’t love each other anymore,” she cried, her words coming out muffled. Elvis gently grabbed her shoulders, trying to pull her off him so she could speak more clearly but she managed to wrap her arms around his neck, clinging onto him. “And it’s all Santa’s fault,”
You exchanged a look with Elvis and frowned, running your hand through your daughter’s hair. “Honey, what are you talking about?”
Upon the sound of your voice, she pulled away from Elvis and looked at you, tears freely rolling down her cheeks.
“Oh Mommy, please don’t leave Daddy all alone!” she cried as she stretched her arms out to you. She had been so angry with you only minutes ago, but the thought of you leaving and running off to the North Pole with Santa Claus broke her little heart. You immediately took her in your arms and caressed her hair out of her face, wiping her tears away. “Don’t leave me and Daddy!”
“Care, how’d you get that idea? Baby, I’m not leaving you and Daddy,” you told her, kissing her forehead before she wrapped her arms around your neck and hugged you tightly.
“But last n-night.. you.. you.. were k-kissing.. S-Santa..” she hiccuped over your shoulder, squeezing you tightly in her little arms as if she was afraid you’d disappear into thin air. “You are in l-love with Santa C-Clause,”
You looked at Elvis and he widened his eyes, letting out a hearty laugh as he leaned back in the couch, throwing his head on the back rest of it. You gave him a warning glare but couldn’t stop yourself from giggling softly too, rubbing your hand up and down Caroline’s back soothingly as Elvis hid his mouth behind his hand to muffle his laughter.
“Care bear, look at me,” you chuckled softly as you grabbed her arms, pulling her out of your embrace so she’d look at you. Her hands rested on your shoulders as she sniffed, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “What you saw last night… was me hugging Santa…”
Elvis stopped laughing as he grinned cheekily, waiting for you to explain to your five year old what she had seen. You silently begged for help and he cleared his throat a little, scooting closer to you and Caroline. “Yittle, Mommy was comfortin’ Santa last night. You see, Daddy forgot to put his milk by the cookies last night and Santa was so sad, because he thought we had forgotten about him,” he explained to her as she looked at him, listening while repeating his words over and over again in her head.
“Yes! And I told him we definitely did not forget about him. He was also a little sad that you fell asleep, baby girl, so I gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek,”
She turned to you, her eyes still a little red as she sniffed once more. “Really?”
“Promise. Would we ever lie to you?” Elvis chimed in, smiling at her and she shook her head.
To her, you and Elvis were perfect and would never ever tell her a lie. Not a big one, nor a small one.
“No,” she whispered. “So you will stay with me and Daddy?”
You looked at her and laughed softly, nodding as you pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Yes baby, I’m going to stay with you and Daddy forever and ever,”
She smiled softly, nodding her head heavily as she seemed to buy the story you and Elvis told her. Honestly, it wasn’t a very good one, but the only thing you could come up with on the spot.
And for five year old Caroline, the story sounded solid.
“Okay,” she said, grabbing Elvis’ hand as she kept her other hand on your shoulder. “Daddy is more beautiful than Santa,”
Elvis grinned widely, raising his chin smugly. “That’s what I thought, honey,”
You rolled your eyes and laughed, rising from the couch with Caroline in your arms. “Now Santa, me and Daddy will appreciate it very much if you put the ornaments back in the tree. Let Daddy help you,” you grinned, kissing her temple before you put her back on her own two feet. She nodded and walked over to the tree, sitting on her knees as she did what you told her to.
Elvis slipped his arm around your waist, squeezing your ass as he pushed you against his chest. “Seems like we should keep the costume strictly for the bedroom, huh?”
“Definitely,” you laughed softly, kissing his chin. “Without the beard next time, though,”
“I didn’t hear ya complainin’ when I was in between your legs with it last night,” he whispered teasingly with a grin on his face, raising an eyebrow.
You playfully slapped his chest, laughing. “I was feelin’ festive, but Christmas is almost over, baby,”
“Not in this house,” he wiggled his eyebrows, leaning down to kiss you. The moment was interrupted sooner than he liked by Caroline who called out to him.
“Daddy, help me!” she yelled as she had managed to get herself twisted in a string of garland, looking at him with a goofy smile on her face.
“You truly are your mother’s child,” he laughed as he shot you a wink, walking over to his daughter to help her get out of the small trap she got herself into and to help her re-decorate the lower half of the tree.
You laughed as you watched them for a little bit before disappearing into the kitchen to start on breakfast.
In an hour or so, the house would be filled with family and friends again, disrupting the peaceful bubble you had been in since yesterday.
You didn’t mind it all that much, though. And as long as Caroline would have a good time, you didn’t care if the house was empty or full.
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brigoesrahhh · 1 year ago
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“Look- Geese!!”
The Spot x reader. 
500+ words. short little blurb i was thinking about :D
Summary: [Post-collider] Walking to a park with him for lunch, when you pass a family of baby geese. Spot is in awe, crouching down next to them, while the reader is trying to protect him so that the parents don't attack him.
A spring breeze passes against your face as you walk through the streets. The warm lights of the early afternoon open up and shine against the metallic lampposts. You were just going out for lunch with Spot to the park, and you had grabbed sandwiches from a local shop. The colorful grass of the park surrounded your feet where you stepped as you both made your way over to a bench to sit down. Just when you realized it, a family of geese had made their way to mindlessly walk past said bench.
“Y/N! Look- Geese!!” Spot says excitedly.
You knew this could only go poorly, but his enthusiasm was too cute, so you waited to see how this would play out. The baby goslings adorably stumbled over to their parents.
“They are very cute, but please, I don’t want you getting attacked by the parents, Spot-”
Before you could properly caution him, he was already crouching down next to them, happily waving at them just a few feet away.
You could practically feel the father goose’s aggressive stomping, his rubbery feet slapping against the grass, as he walked over to Spot.
He began to hiss at him, threatening Spot not to get any closer. Spot, of course, did not pay any mind, as he was too consumed by watching the adorable goslings. You could see goose’s eyes pop out of his head as he tried to figure out what was going on. 
That was when Spot walked just a step closer to the baby.
The father goose charged down to Spot, beak open and teeth ready to attack.
You froze before you could say anything, but you almost burst out laughing. Spot quickly realized the danger and ran away, narrowly escaping the angry goose's attack. 
"Spot! Come back here!" you yelled after him. The sight of the tiny goslings and the angry goose charging at Spot was comical. You couldn't help but feel sorry for Spot, who was now running away from the angry father goose.
He kept running away from the goose, terrified, and opened a portal in his panic. He quickly slipped through the void, landing right in front of you, inches away from your face.
He blushed slightly in surprise, and you finally cracked, laughing so hard your stomach aches.
The father goose became so confused as to where the threat he was just chasing went, and the babies remained unfazed and waddled away. 
"Spot, what on Earth just happened?" you asked, still chuckling. Spot looked up at you with wide eyes and replied, "I don't know, I just panicked and opened a portal."
You couldn't help but shake your head in amusement as you led Spot away from the confused father goose. He still stood inches away from you, frozen. You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before taking his hand and dragging him along with you to the bench. He looked at you with a mix of confusion and embarrassment as his blush intensified, still breathing heavily from running from the goose.
As you continued walking to the bench (and dragging Spot behind you), you couldn't help but smile at his innocent fascination with nature.
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briar-ffxiv · 2 months ago
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FFXIV Write #22 - Warning
FFXIV Write 2024 Master Post
Prompt #22 - You Pick - Warning
Note: The Black Knights are based on a very cool breed of chicken called the 'Liege Fighter' if anyone is curious.
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Briar's head jerked up from his gardening when he heard the sharp warning cry from Henri, his oldest rooster. The bird gave a loud squawk, wings flapping as he rushed toward the hens foraging in the grass. His older hens immediately echoed the call and shot across the grass, heading for the safety of the cottage and coop. They were no strangers to predators and knew what to do.
The ones that worried Briar most were his little silkies. Smaller, plumper, and short-legged in comparison, they were not near as quick and wary as his other hens. With their soft, almost fur-like feathers, they couldn't even fly for short stretches like the other hens. Vulnerable little golden balls of fluff, the silkies waddled as fast as they could after the others, giving their own chirps and squawks of distress.
The half-Elezen rose, sucking in a worried breath as he noticed the lean shape of a hawk circling nearby. He couldn't blame the predator for wanting to eat, but he didn't like it eating his chickens. Grabbing his staff, he started to jog toward the meadow, hoping his presence would be enough to dissuade the hawk.
Unfortunately, at that moment, the hawk dove in a quick flash, aiming for the slowest of the silkies. Briar sucked in a breath, starting to run, wishing he could just shout at the damned hawk. He made a noise of frustration, glancing around for something to toss that might spook it but not hurt his poor hen.
Briar hadn't needed to worry though. A streak of black feathers shot from the nearby bushes and crashed into the hawk just before its talons reached the hen. She still shrieked loudly, stubby wings flapping as she bolted as hard as she could toward the safety of the flock. The hawk gave its own cry of alarm as it crashed into the ground with a mass of striking wings and claws.
Briar slid to a stop, startled for a moment at the mass of angry birds rolling around on the ground before the dark form bounced away lithely. Gareth, one of his 'black knights' as they were affectionately known, gave a savage hiss of warning, long hackles rising as he mantled at the hawk. The hawk flailed to its feet, giving indignant hisses, threatening the rooster back. At least until another hiss joined the chorus and Gareth's brother, Kade, stalked out as well.
The two roosters were a different breed than his others. Reaching nearly three fulms tall and powerfully built, one could be forgiven for thinking they were small raptors. Long legs with huge feet and spurs along with sleek heads and short combs only made the two 'black knights' look more predatory as they hissed and mantled, moving closer to the hawk.
Now outnumbered, the hawk's bravado faltered. It hissed but started to back up. Kade lunged forward, striking out with both feet viciously, slamming into the hawk's chest. The hawk shrieked again, flailing wildly and scrambling away far enough to get into the air. As a final insult, Gareth lunged again, tearing out a tail feather before the hawk managed to get itself out of reach.
The two large black roosters watched the hawk until it was out of sight before ruffling their feathers and starting to groom, sauntering back toward the flock casually. They gave a few little chirruping calls to let the hens know it was safe, although none appeared until Henri had come out. The old rooster studied the skies intently before giving the all clear and the hens eased back out under the watchful gave of the roosters.
Briar breathed a sigh of relief, moving toward the flock and gently picking up the hen that had nearly been grabbed. Luckily, she was one of the sweeter girls and didn't mind being held. He examined her briefly, finding no worse than a tuft of feathers lost. Nodding, he set her back down and went into the shed, grabbing a handful of some treats, various little bits of dried fruits and such that the chickens loved.
He went to the Black Knights, who always lingered respectfully near the edges of the flock. It was strange in a way because normally roosters were rather aggressive toward each other. Briar suspected it was because they had grown up together and grown up when Henri was already an adult. Henri had established dominance when they were very small and kept it now, even though both Gareth and Kade were nearly twice his size. Or perhaps the two black roosters were fond of the older one. Briar was never sure.
As a reward, Briar knelt to gently toss some of the treats near the black roosters, reaching out to gently stroke Kade's back. They certainly weren't as cuddly as some of the hens, but they were respectful to the half-Elezen, even affectionate. Gareth came forward to delicately take a dried strawberry from Briar's hand.
Briar gave a silent laugh as Gareth moved toward the silkies, chirruping at them as he laid down the offering, encouraging them to eat first. They were very good roosters, as Henri had taught them, and all behaved gently with the hens and called them for treats. Gareth had a particular fondness for the silkies that Briar found charming. They ate a few bites themselves, but in short order, the roosters had summoned the hens for treats as well. Now more focused on food, the flock was relaxed and happily foraging again.
Henri came up to Briar, jumping with a few flaps to land on the half-Elezen's bent knee. He regarded Briar with bright yellow eyes, clucking at him. Briar smiled and gently scratched his neck as he liked, humming his approval. Even if Briar couldn't say it, he had warned the hens first and he was a very good boy, deserving of praise just as much as the Black Knights were.
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Thanks to @calico-heart for giving me the idea for Briar to have 'Black Knights' forever ago. I just finally got around to writing it!
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ask-elland-n-will · 3 months ago
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Nosy, drenched from the rain outside and with muddy paws, chirped happily, pleased with himself. It was time for a little mischief.
Spotting the Prefect walking in the corridor, the Niffler started waddling towards him with a determined glint in his eyes, his little feet leaving a trail of wet paw prints on the floor. He stopped right in front of of the red-head and stared up at him with a smug look, his face beaming with cheeky intent.
Without a second's pause, the little menace began to wildly shake his soaked fur, sending water droplets flying all over Will’s clothes. A perfect spray pattern, if Nosy did say so himself.
But Nosy wasn’t done yet, oh no. He pranced around with his muddy paws, leaving prints all over William's once-pristine shoes. The Teal King acted dumbfounded, honking as if to say, "Oh no! Was that Nosy? Nosy is so, so sorry."
To add a final touch, Nosy, still wet and muddy, started to hug the Prefect's leg, smearing dirt all over his pants. Nosy snickered to himself before looking up at William with the most innocent, wide-eyed look he could muster. "You are not angry at little old me, right?"
"No."
Those were the first words that left the prefect's mouth, and he instantly knew that he done goofed. It was a mistake, telling this particular niffler a "No". Will was the one who required further training on how not to keep the teal waves from crashing down on him. And oh, he felt a tsunami coming, judging from the cheeky squint of Nosy's eyes.
"Bath first, NOW!"
Another crucial mistake, born out of panic. Partially from the content of the command, and partially because his voice treacherously cracked at the last word. Can nifflers sense fear? Merlin, please let the answer be negative.
Hands busy with books, William couldn't even get his wand out for a quick "Protego" when the downpour began. And if that wasn't enough, he watched in dejected confusion as Nosy stepped on Will's shoe. Once. Twice. Oh, it was not an accident, was it?
"Having fun?" Will said, reproachfully, but deep inside found it amusing as well. Not that he would show it. For educational purposes. But he already had dirt on the lower part of his uniform, Nosy can't make it dirtier than that with his little paws.
"Good noble nifflers do all that before entering the house. They shake off the water and dirt."
Will did as he said, shaking his head, making a mess of his hairstyle. He had to blow the hair off his face, accompanying it with a nudge of his head as his hands were busy.
"They step on the little carper at the entrance to clear their paws."
And Will illustrated that with one of his free feet, "wiping" his shoe on the carpet rather comically.
"Then they wait patiently until their human friends take them to clean up. Don't you want to be like a good niffler, Nosy? Model niffler?" Will cooed, hoping at least some of it is understood. "Bath for you, for sure. If you—"
He didn't get to finish as he watched Nosy ready himself for a hug, and Will twisted on the spot as if avoiding the bludger on the pitch. Carefully still: he'd never want to step on Nosy's shoes in return.
"No hugs before a bath, mister! Tsk, tsk."
Whether he succeded in making it to the nearest table to put the books down and levitate Nosy to the bathroom or not, Will was ready to gamble. This was as good of an opportunity for learning as any. As for the dirt on his own uniform — there's nothing a spell could not fix.
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merlot-and-chardonnay · 3 months ago
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A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 62
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Masterlist
Chapter 61
Quick A/N: I showed my fiance excerpts of Aemma's fight with Daemon, and he said he got evil Disney stepmother vibes from the way Daemon came at Aemma and yanked her medallion off. That was in no way a conscious choice on my part to make Daemon into an evil stepmother. Unhinged yes, the guy does have a tendency to lash out when he's angry and/or grieving, especially when he gets called out on stuff (as we saw when Rhaenyra confronted him on the Blood and Cheese incident). I would like to hear any of y'alls' thoughts on that cause it did make me laugh a little when my fiance pointed that out.
Hiding around a corner, seeing her father storm out of the council chambers, Rhaena came out of hiding, "come on," she urges Luke to follow. The young princess couldn't find Baela at this moment, so she went for the next best thing, this being her betrothed.
When the two of them walked inside, they find Aemma laying on the floor in a disheveled states with tear stains on her eyes and uneven breaths.
"Aemma!" Rhaena rushed over to her sister with urgency, Luke tailing behind her. Rhaena knelt down and placed a cautious hand on Aemma's shoulder, to which Aemma flinched. "Aemma, it's me," Rhaena calmly assures, making Aemma relax when she looked up to see her sister and stepbrother.
"What happened?" Rhaena inquires, "where's your necklace?" "...Father threw it out the window," Aemma mutters, breaths still uneven. "What did he do to you?" Rhaena questions, sounding more distraught than before. "He...I confronted him...about my mother," Aemma says, voice hoarse from the previous screaming and crying, "He...he lied to me. All this time he's lied to me about the Lady of Larks. He's lied to all of us..." fresh tears began to fall as Aemma turned into a sobbing mess once more, "and I hate him for it!"
Tears falling in sympathy, Rhaena pulled Aemma in for a hug. Luke stood there, feeling awkward, not sure what exactly was going on, but knew this fallout between daughter and father was serious. There was so much going on right now from finding out King Viserys was dead to seeing his mother go into early labor and now this. To think that only today, Luke's biggest concern was thinking about his future as the Lord of the Tides should the Stranger come for Lord Corlys.
Aemma continued to sob, which was cut off by the sounds of Rhaenyra's continuing labor pains.
Suddenly, Aemma jolted out of Rhaena's hold. "Aemma?!" Aemma pushed her sister away as she staggered onto her feet and leaned against the wall. Hearing the sounds of her stepmother in pain, she began to experience visions and sounds of the past.
"Geralt..." she heard her mother's voice, "I think there's something wrong with this baby..." 
"Mother?"
Aemma saw her mother in the middle of a forest somewhere on the Continent, holding her belly as if she were in pain. With each contraction Rhaenyra had in the present, Aemma saw her mother emanate that same painful contraction in the past. Aemma placed a hand over her mouth, realizing the Lady of Larks had gone through something similar. She recalled a vision she had back in Vergen when she saw her mother stop Daemon from hurting her again when she told him she was pregnant. This was the babe that the Lady Lark had been carrying.
The vision continued as (y/n) struggled against the contraction, a strange looking woman helping her through it. She saw two monsters, basilisks, appear from behind the trees and the sorceress cast a shield over the two to protect them, which was brought down causing the sorceress woman to falter. She saw Geralt spring forth and slay the monsters before they could go for the kill. 
And then she saw her mother waddle away from Geralt and the woman, falling to her knees and pulling her stillborn sibling out of her.
"Aemma? Aemma!" Aemma's vision ended abruptly the moment Rhaena started shaking Aemma back to her senses.  "Rhaena?" "What happened, you looked like you were possessed!" Rhaena exclaims. Aemma's breaths were even once again, the last image fresh in her mind of seeing the Lady of Larks hold the bloodied fetus in her arms...scaly skin and a tail much like that of a dragon.
"Aemma?" "...my mother was pregnant the night she escaped," Aemma says, seemingly to no one, "she miscarried...the babe was a boy. I...we almost had a brother..."
The three just realized Rhaenyra's wails had all but stopped. Realizing what this meant, Aemma, Rhaena, and Luke rush to Rhaenyra's chambers to see what happened. They find the Targaryen woman sitting on the floor cradling what looked like a bloodied baby in her arms. But the baby was not alive, as evident by the sorrowful tears that Rhaenyra was now shedding.
Aemma took a step forth, paying no heed to the midwives when they insist she not see. "Mother?" she speaks up. "...you have a sister," Rhaenyra says with a broken voice, gaze fixed on her dead child, "her name is Visenya."
Aemma looked over her stepmother to see the stillborn babe cradled in Rhaenyra's arms as she rocked Visenya back and forth as if she were alive. Scaly skin and a dragon-like tail. Just like the brother Aemma's mother had brought forth the night of her escape. 
Aemma wanted to cry, but found she had no more tears to shed in spite of her sadness.
--------------------------
On the rocky cliffs on the edges of a Dragonstone, a small funeral pyre burned for the baby Visenya as Rhaenyra and Daemon stand at the very front as they mourned for the lose of their unborn child. Behind them stood the rest of their children as well as their loyal supporters and members of the Kingsguard who stood in support for their queen.
Aemma stood by her sisters, caught in a place between anger and sadness. Anger at her father, sadness for the lose what could've been her new sister...and sadness for the brother she lost the day her mother escaped Westeros.
Looking at her father, she couldn't help but actually feel a twinge a sympathy. Visenya was his child too, after all, he was within his rights to grieve. It still didn't make up for everything the damage he's done both past and present.
Right at that moment, a strange knight in white armor approached. The two Kingsguard knights draw their swords, ready to defend their queen.
"I mean no harm, brothers," the knight states, removing his helmet. "Ser Erryk!" Aemma calls out in recognition.
The other two knights sheathe their swords, allowing Ser Erryk to approach. The knight knelt down as Daemon approached, pulling something from the satchel he was carrying. It was a crown, the one the late king Viserys wore during his reign, which was also worn by the late King Jaehaerys. Erryk presented the crown to Rhaenyra, "I swear to ward the queen," he speaks, "with all my strength...and give my blood for hers."
Erryk continued to recite his vow as Daemon took the crown from his hands. The now king consort approached Rhaenyra, placing the crown on her brow before he knelt before her. "My queen," he whispers before bowing his head to her. Everyone else took that as the cue to kneel before their true queen, Aemma included. This was it, she thinks. Rhaenyra was now the Queen, in spite of being robbed of her throne. Being here now, Aemma was prepared to stand by her queen and fight for her...but knew that as long as Daemon stood by her side, it would continue to complicate matters for her.
Huffing in frustration, Aemma got on her feet, turned, and walked past her siblings, needing time to process her feelings.  
----------Aemma's room-------------
Aemma paced back and forth once again.
So much had happened in the span of three days, and it was only now that she had time to process it all. The Greens' coup, her vision of the Wild Hunt attacking the Wall, Rhaenyra's miscarriage and the coronation that followed, and that was even before getting to process her fight with Daemon.
Aemma wasn't sure what she was going to...she didn't even know what she could do. She couldn't support Aegon and the Greens, she was certain of that, even if it meant going against the man she loves. But she wasn't so sure she could support the Blacks...if Daemon wasn't in the picture, Aemma would gladly fight for Rhaenyra, be prepared to stand by her siblings and fight besides them for whatever conflict would soon arise.
But with Rhaenyra being queen, that made Daemon her King Consort. If Daemon wasn't untouchable before that, he certainly was now.   Aemma thought on it some more...maybe Daemon would never be stripped of his titles or exiled or anything of the sort...but if Rhaenyra was made aware of the wrongdoings he's kept hidden all these years, maybe the queen would be inclined to keep a closer eye on Daemon, have him watched every hour of every day, see to it that he will never hurt anyone ever again.
It wasn't exactly her best plan...but at this point it felt better than nothing, especially if Aemma was to see herself in any kind of role in this family.   Another option would be to abandon this whole thing altogether. Return to the Continent, be with her mother and Uncle Jaskier and Geralt too...
But Aemma couldn't bring herself to abandon her siblings again, especially her sisters. Rhaena would be heartbroken and Baela would certainly never forgive her for that. Not to mention that fleeing to the Continent wasn't exactly an option right now considering the near certain future of the Wild Hunt invading the Wall. If Aemma failed to be there when it happened, who knows if Ciri would survive...and who knows if Jace would survive as well if he indeed would be there when the invasion happens.
Being lost in her thoughts, Aemma didn't hear the door open. "Princess," she heard Rhaenys speak up. Aemma looked over to see her grandmother walk in, still in her armor, a cup of tea on hand.
"Where's Rhaenyra?" Aemma asks. "In the council chambers, preparing for war," Rhaenys tells her, "she's requested your presence." Aemma sighed in response. "I can inform Her Grace you are not feeling well, I'm certain she will understand," Rhaenys offers, "it was a long journey from King's Landing...not to mention having lost a sister before her time."
Aemma nods, now noticing the cup of tea in her grandmother's hand, "what's that?" "It's a tea," Rhaenys answers, handing it to Aemma. Aemma took a whiff, "it smells funny." "It's a special tea," Rhaenys confirms, "I believe you have an idea of what it might be." Aemma's eye widen briefly, knowing full well what it was, "I don't...why would I...oh, that's right. I remember telling you."
"It's up to you," Rhaenys says with a soft, understanding tone, "but...after everything that has happened in the last several days, the last thing we need is to bring another Targaryen bastard into this world."
"And I should let you know," Rhaenys continues, "Lord Corlys has survived his wounds. He's sailing for Dragonstone as we speak. I'm certain he'll be glad to see you and the rest of his grandchildren again after so long."
Rhaenys walked out of the room, leaving Aemma alone with her tea. Her grandmother was right. Now wasn't the time. With a potential civil war looming over, and with the future uncertain, Aemma could not afford to risk bringing a child into this, especially one conceived out of wedlock.
Sighing once more, followed with a deep breath, Aemma took the cup and downed it's contents.
As she grimaced from the taste, Aemma began to play in her head what could have been had she allowed Aemond's seed to take root...what would her father say if he learned she was carrying the one-eyed prince's bastard in her belly?
-----------------some time later------------
Aemma sat down on the bed, letting the moon tea start to take affect.  Although she didn't have it in her to go to the audience the queen was holding for the impending conflict, she wondered what was being said.
Thinking about it herself, Aemma knew the most important objective for Rhaenyra's established rule was to send ravens or envoys to the Great Houses to remind the Lords of the oaths they made to Viserys to recognize Rhaenyra as his true heir. 
The Velaryons would keep true to that oath, as Aemma saw when Rhaenys stood up for Luke during the Driftmark petition. The Arryns of the Vale would stay to the oath as well, as Rhaenyra's late mother was an Arryn. Starks do not forget their oaths, as the old saying goes, so that one was practically a shoe-in for support.
The Hightowers would certainly not swear for Rhaenyra...and neither would the Lannisters as Tyland Lannister held a seat on the Greens Small Council. Aemma wasn't sure where House Tyrell would stand, or House Baratheon and House Tully for that matter. No doubt those lords might need a little persuasion.
Although, it just occurred to Aemma that a war between Targaryens implies dragons will be involved...dragons fighting against one another. The Blacks have Syrax, Caraxes, Meleys as well as Arrax, Vermax, and Moondancer...and Cirillia of course. Even though Tyraxes and Stormcloud were too small to fight, Rhaenyra has more dragons on her side. On  the Greens side, there was Dreamfyre and Sunfyre...and should Aegon call his little brother Daeron from Oldtown to fight, they would have Tessarion...and then of course, there's Vhagar. Aemma had to wonder what would happen if she was to fly into battle astride Cirillia and she ended up facing Aemond and Vhagar in the midst of it. Would Aemond say the word and have Vhagar rain fire onto her and Cirillia, despite having professed his love for her and his desire to marry her TWICE? Now part of Aemma had wished she hadn't drank the tea; maybe her carrying Aemond's child would give the prince SOME motivation not to kill her.
Aemma sat upright when she heard sounds of a dragon roaring outside. Aemma looked out to see Syrax flying overhead with Rhaenyra towards the stone bridge leading to Dragonstone. Aemma wasn't sure what was going on at this moment, but she saw a boat close by with the sigil of the three headed dragon...but the sails were green. Aemma wished she could see what was going on.
If Cirillia was there, she could use her gift to see through her dragon's eyes. What if Aemma tried to use the spell with her stepmother's dragon instead? It was tricky as Aemma didn't have the bond with Syrax as she does with Cirillia, but maybe, just maybe.
Aemma laid on the bed and closed her eyes, reciting the incantation, directing the energy towards the older yellow dragon. When her eyes opened, Aemma could see she was facing the bridge. She was looking through Syrax's eyes now. Syrax moved her head to see Rhaenyra dismount from the saddle. Looking forward, Aemma could see who had come to Dragonstone was none other than Otto Hightower and the soldiers loyal to the Greens.  Rhaenyra walked past Otto and stood next to Daemon, who was armed with a sword and his own regiment.
"Princess Rhaenyra," she heard Otto greet. "I'm QUEEN Rhaenyra now," Rhaenyra corrects, "and you are all traitors to the realm." "King Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, in his wisdom and desire for peace is offering terms," Otto begins. Internally, Aemma scoffed, knowing full well these were not Aegon's words at all. "Acknowledge Aegon as king, and swear obeisance to the Iron Throne," Otto goes on, "In exchange, His Grace will confirm your possession of Dragonstone. It will pass to your true born son Prince Jacaerys upon your death. Lucerys will be confirmed as the legitimate heir to Driftmark and all lands and holdings of House Velaryon. Your sons by Prince Daemon will also be given positions of honor at court: Aegon the Younger as his squire, Viserys as his cup bearer. The king in his good grace will pardon any knight or lord who has conspired against his ascent. And furthermore, His Grace has consented to broker a marriage pact between Prince Daemon's daughter, the Princess Aemma, to his brother Prince Aemond." 
Aemma's felt herself become shocked at this particular stated term. She saw Daemon and Rhaenyra exchange glances. The princess wondered if that term was added in, either from Aemond himself or from Alicent who still wished for the two of them to wed. It was made clear that there was hope that she and Aemond could still be together somehow. 
  "I would rather feed my sons to the dragons then to carry shields and cups for your drunken, usurper cunt of a king," Daemon sneers, "and I would rather see my daughter lay with a hundred men in a brothel on the Street of Silk than see her married off to your one-eyed cunt of a grandson." Aemma had to contain her own rage right now. She may not care much for Otto or Aegon, but if she was physically there, she would not stand by and allow her father to speak in such a way about Aemond. Yeah, she might have definitely start to feel some regret for drinking the moon tea now.
"Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne," Otto points out matter-of-factually, "He wears the Conqueror's crown, wields the Conqueror's sword, has the Conqueror's name. He was anointed by a septon of the Faith before the eyes of thousands. Every symbol of legitimacy belongs to him. And then there is Stark, Tully, Baratheon. Houses that have also received and are, at present, considering generous terms from their king."
"Stark, Tully, and Baratheon all swore to me when King Viserys named me HIS heir," Rhaenyra counters. "Stale oaths will not put you on the Iron Throne, Princess," Otto counters back, approaching despite the Kingsguard making ready to defend their queen, "the succession changed the day your father sired a son. I only regret that you and he were the last to see the truth of it."
Angrily, Rhaenyra stormed at Otto, pulling off  pin he wore as Hand of the king, "you are no more Hand than Aegon is king. FUCKING traitor!"
Aemma noticed the vision was becoming distorted. She was struggling to see or hear more of the confrontation that was going on. Soon her vision went black, and Aemma bolted from the bed.
Her head ached something fierce at first, but it started to slowly go away. She felt something warm leave her nose. Aemma wiped at it to see it was blood. That had never happened before, not when she's done this with Cirillia. It appears she CAN make this connection with other dragons, but there was an imposed limit compared to when she does this with her bonded dragon. 
She remembered both Triss and Phillipa having told her there was a Give and a Take when it came to manipulating Chaos. If Aemma had continued as she had seeing through Syrax's eyes, whose to say this connection would've ended up killing her?
Aemma looked outside to see Otto turn and leave. Rhaenyra, it seems, had decided to spare the man. But why? Was she actually considering his offer? Whatever was going through Rhaenyra's mind as of now?
-----------a little more time later------------------
"Aemma?" Rhaena knocks on the door to announce her arrival before stepping inside. Accompanying Rhaena was Baela, whom Rhaena had informed what their older sister had told her.
Aemma was looking out the window, out to the horizon, wondering what was going to happen next. "Aemma," Rhaena speaks up a little louder. "Oh, hello," Aemma greets. "You weren't in the council rooms," Rhaena brings up, "Grandmother told us you weren't feeling well, but you look alright to me." "It's just some small stomach pains," Aemma assures, "I'll be alright, I'm feeling better already." "Aemma," Baela approaches, "Rhaena told me...about your mother...she's alive?" "...she is," Aemma confirms. "But how is that possible?" Baela questions, "your mother perished in Rivia during that riot, Rhaena and I were in Redania when it happened, we heard the reports at that time."
"She survived," Aemma tells her, "she was greatly injured, but she survived her wounds. She and...the White Wolf, they were whisked away to a place not of this world, to recover. Until mother was taken by the Wild Hunt....that's why I left. That's why I spent the last six years on the Continent. I was tracking down the Hunt with the hopes of rescuing my mother. I managed that, with a little help."
"From the White Wolf, you mean," Baela says. "Not just him...but this Ciri too?" Rhaena asks, to which Aemma nods. "Who is she? Ciri?" "She's someone I knew a long time ago, when I was still a baby," Aemma explains, "she vowed long ago to protect me, even from our father." Aemma turned to face her sisters, "my mother told me the true story of what happened between her and father...it was far worse than I could've imagined." "What...what exactly did father do to the Lady of Larks?" Baela asks, not exactly surprised of what Daemon was capable of, but was secretly afraid to learn the lines that man was capable of crossing.
Aemma shook her head, "I don't want to inflict those images into your minds," she admits. "Aemma," Baela huffs, placing a hand on Aemma's arm, "Rhaena and I aren't children anymore, nor are we as naive of our father's proclivities as you may believe us to be." Aemma was silent, turning her gaze away. "I know what father is capable of," Baela continues, "he may love us as he loves his family, but...he is not a good man."
Aemma thought on this, looking to both her sisters. Baela was right, they were not children anymore. Seven Hells, Baela AND Rhaena were just betrothed not too long ago and would wed sooner or later. "Even if I did tell you," Aemma sighs, "it wouldn't change anything. Father will never be held accountable for his actions, especially now that he is king consort." Rhaena made a sad smile, taking Aemma's hand into hers, "We should still like to know."
Aemma held Rhaena's hand, and then reached to take Baela's, holding them together, "this is the account of the story that was told to me by the Lady of Larks," she begins, "my mother first came to King's Landing several years before father ever met her..."
---------------
Aemma walked down the halls to the Council chambers, hoping to find Rhaenyra and with hopes of speaking to the queen in private. If Rhaenyra truly was considering the terms stated, than perhaps Aemma could use this as the opportunity to tell Rhaenyra what she wanted to say to her.
She tried to put aside recent memories of holding her sisters after telling them her mother's story. Tried to put aside the memory of comforting Rhaena, who cried for what seemed like hours upon realizing the extent of her father's cruelty, and comforting Baela who tried her best to not let it known how truly upset she was about all of it.
It was now apparent to all three of the girls of the monster Daemon truly is, and the damage he could potentially continue to inflict upon others even as consort to the queen.
All three had agreed that Rhaenyra needed to know.
When Aemma stepped in, she froze in place at the scene before her.
Daemon had his hand wrapped around Rhaenyra's throat, anger in his eyes. "Dreams didn't make us kings...dragons did."
"FATHER!" Aemma shouts, getting both his and Rhaenyra's attention.
Daemon released his hold on Rhaenyra as the two of them stared in Aemma's direction.
Chapter 62.5
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theodoradevlin · 3 months ago
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It was dinner time when Nosy finally spotted Theodora enjoying her meal on the Hufflepuff table, his tail wiggling at the sight of her. With a nimble leap, Nosy jumped down from Sebastian's shoulder and started waddling towards her.
In a truly athletic display, Nosy leaped from student to student, landing on their robes and backs with graceful ease, causing a few startled yelps along the way, until he finally landed on the table of the badgers. He dashed through the bountiful spread, pushing over a few drinking glasses, bowls, and plates here and there, until he stopped right before the girl.
Nosy rummaged through his belly pouch at high speed and pulled out a small, heart-shaped potato. Nosy was waiting quite a while to give this to her! One whole day! (A very long time, in Nosy's eyes.)
The Niffler rolled the earthapple towards Theo with a proud squeak and a cheeky grin as if he wanted to say, “That’s right, marvel your gaze upon THIS little treasure! It's just for you!"
Nosy wanted to swagger a bit longer, but that was until he spotted a certain lad sitting next to the Hufflepuff Lady from the corners of his eyes. Ah, if it wasn’t the Chump-Gentleman! ( @ask-elland-n-will )
Nosy squinted at the fiery-haired boy. Nosy had not forgotten about the belly rubs Elland gave him that day. The Niffler was still salty about how vulnerable and exposed he felt that day. How did Elland know about the Teal King’s weakness? It was time for a little payback.
Puffing out his chest, Nosy let out a loud, demanding honk. The little Niffler strutted over, his tail wiggling with confidence. "Oi, you!" his eyes seemed to say as he stopped right before Elland. "Remember me, mate?"
With a quick snatch, Nosy grabbed some peas from Elland's plate and started throwing them at him. He wished he had his pea shooter, but sadly, the pretty Prefect had confiscated it earlier. Wasn't Elland just a lucky guy? BUT NOT LUCKY ENOUGH!
The little menace dashed forward and snatched Elland's Pumpkin Pasty. With a triumphant honk and the pasty in his snout, Nosy climbed up on Theodora and nestled on top of her head, snuggling into her hair. He smirked at Elland, curious to see what the Hufflepuff might do now.
Theo had chanced a look over towards the Slytherin table, not that she looked over in the direction that often or anything, but as she did she couldn't help but smile at the happy tail wiggles as Nosy spotted her from Sebastian's mess of hair.
As Nosy jumped from @ask-sebastian's shoulders, Theo had no doubt the teal fur ball was coming her way. She gave Sebastian a helpless shrug as if to admit that: yes, your niffler could probably do whatever his little chaotic heart desired, and neither of you would ever do anything to stop it.
You knew it. Sebastian knew it. And Nosy definitely knew it.
...And that included just letting the absolute trail of unapologetic messes happen as Nosy made his way over to her. She watched, half wincing, but mostly impressed. She'd have to reward his efforts with some treats!
"Hello my friend, I hope you're being good, but not too good, today." She smiled warmly at him, giving him a light scratch as he excitedly rummaged for something in his pocket. Upon seeing the magnificent potato, she couldn't contain the excitement on her face. In fact, she was almost as excited as the niffler himself.
She held it in her hands gingerly, softening at the heart felt gesture. Not only was it a potato (the most versatile of starch's) it was also A HEART SHAPED POTATO?
She gasped, bending down to Nosy's eye level, giving him a loving head pat as she vowed stoically, "It's beautiful, thank you Nosy. This treasure is going to stay with me forever, you sweet wee devil."
She almost turned to show it off to Elland, but could see that Nosy was desperately trying to tell @ask-elland-n-will something. The honk seemed quite imperative. She watched curiously - was he excited? Angry? Oooh- nope. There were those peas again.
She'd only seen Nosy threaten Andrew with them, so Theo knew the peas meant business. Merlin save Elland for whatever it was that the poor boy did.
She watched apologetically as the little paws snatched the pastry from Elland's plate after the pea assault. Nosy was quick as he scrambled to her hair to seek shelter. Or gloat.
By the look on Elland's face it was probably the latter.
"Now Nosy, you know gloating it isn't nice." She reached up to give him another little scratch before looking at Elland, "I guess only a few of us are the chosen ones today - what on earth did you do to have him stealing your pastries?!"
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not-krys · 11 months ago
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WIP Wednesday: Nobububu Version 2.0
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A more edited version of this post, but still couldn't think of a way to end it, so back to the WIP pile it goes.
Raw writing, some editing but not much, pregnancy, Nobunaga being precious
-----
Seven and a half months and one day down, one and a half months and one night to go, you thought to yourself.
Too bad one of your sleeping companions wasn't in the mood for shut-eye, as proven by the brutal, merciless little kicks in your tummy. As if you needed anymore evidence you were indeed carrying Nobunaga's child.
With a tired sigh, you pushed off the warm blankets and greeted the cold night air with a grumble. It was only for another month and a half. Another month and a half and then you'd hold your little kicking alien in your arms, powerless against your lower ribs and organs as they so intently seemed to be fighting.
Before standing up, however, a hand shot out from beneath the covers, the grip like iron, keeping you seated on the futon. An incredulous carnelian eye peeked up from his black sleeve, his questions evident even with that single glance.
 You sighed with a smile.
"Your child has inherited your bad sleeping habits."
The devil king, Nobunaga, sat up fully, opening up both his eyes. His initial frown, however, slipped into a small grin.
"Our child," he corrected, "they make bold claims against me, even before leaving the safety of the womb."
He stood up with a light grunt and pulled you to your feet. "Claiming the territory of your lap from under my nose, and now they seek to steal you away in my sleep?"
He was more amused than angry, however.
"As if this… this big belly has stopped you from enjoying your claims!" You playfully scoffed.
"Their contributions to my territories has proven to be a boon," He wrapped his arm around your back, his other hand grasping yours, keeping you steady and secure, "so I shall concede to a temporary truce of you, for the time being."
You leaned into him, drawing on his strength and warmth.
"Once around the tenshu should be enough."
Nobunaga minded his pace for you, making his steps small, like he was gliding slowly across the floor. It made you a little jealous, how he could move so easily while the best you could do was waddle like a duck around a rocky lake shore.
After the proposed single round, the little kicks had refused to calm. You sighed.
"I could carry you," Nobunaga proposed, keeping his arm around you.
"I need to be the one moving," you said, taking another step forward. "They calm down during the day when I'm moving. Probably something to do about the motion soothes them."
"I could rock you as I carry you." He offered.
"…I'm not a baby."
"You are carrying ours, however. It stands to reason that by rocking you, I am also rocking our child."
You looked at him, blinking and trying to process what he was saying.
Then, you had an idea.
"Actually, I think I want to try another thing."
Turning into him, you move his arms to surround your middle, while your hands found the back of his neck, his eyes lighting with curiosity. After a beat, you sway to one side, Nobunaga quick to catch you, only to be confused as you swayed in the opposite direction, again, moving to correct the both of you.
"What is this, Fireball?"
"Slow dancing."
"Slow dancing?"
"Mhmm." You laid your head against his chest. "My parents… they used to dance like this. Nothing fancy to it, just holding each other and swaying."
He seemed to get the idea after a moment, resting his cheek on top of your head. His fingers, callused and rough, traced your jawline.
"I find this kind of dancing pleasurable," He said with a smirk. "Show it to me again, when our child is born, when I can hold you closer."
"All right," you said.
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sensei-venus · 2 years ago
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Hawk with his "mommies" 😏
But now that I've brought it up, pregnant!mommy dom!Reader and daddy dom!Hawk with sub!Demetri??
Hawk, who knows Reader's belly turns Demetri on and constantly touches it a d rubs it when Dem is looking their way. Reader wearing revealing and/or tight shirts that show off her belly too.
Demetri, who is shy about it. They tease him about it in subtle ways. And more obvious ones. Hawk makes him blush by calling him out for it. Reader sits on his lap and asks him to "massage mommy's hips, please?" Bats her eyelashes at him.
I could go on but I'm distracted by TV 😅
- gemini sensei
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(Unedited) ( @gemini-sensei )
Demetri really can’t help but be turned on as Reader gets bigger and bigger. He though he had a pretty big breeding kink beforehand but after actually breeding Reader along with Hawk, it was amplified by ten. After getting her pregnant things just kept getting better and better.
But he was quick to go back to his usual position.
Hawk is quick to always rub it in his face. The fact that he helped to put that baby in her. That it was most likely his and not Demetri’s anyway because Hawk was the one who “put most of the work in to fill her up”. Demetri was just there to be played with. Or at least that’s what it felt like sometimes when they had sex.
Both of his partners where so bossy in bed. Of course Demetri didn’t really mind because at the end of the day he liked being their sub. This extended to their everyday lives as well. Letting the two of them control most of the things in their relationship and home, he trusted them fully with just about everything.
Well it was fun until Hawk and Reader started to pick up on his ever-growing breeding kink.
Both of them saw the way he looked at Reader’s growing bump. The way he would get red in the face or sneak glances at her. The way his eyes always fell onto her round belly.
Hawk would joke that one day they were going to find him literally drooling over Reader.
Their favorite time was when they finally decided to go big with their teasing. They wanted to go all out one night with their teasing of their lanky boyfriend.
Hawk helps Reader pick out a super-tight dress from their closet to wear around the house. The material is stretchy but still fits right over all of her curves. It shows off her legs and half of her thick thighs, bunching a little as she walks around.
Her full hips and new round belly fill out the midsection perfectly, all smooth and tight. Her breasts are squeezed into the top as best as they can. They're swollen and sore but to Reader it's worth it to see Demetri go red in the face and bug-eyed over her new figure.
She waddles around the living room holding her bump while Hawk and Demetri sit on the couch watching tv that night. She makes sure to bend over a few times, as much as she can with her bump. Hawk watched as Demetri starts to shimmy in his seat and try to act like he was not looking at their pregnant girlfriend's ass and bump.
Acting like he's just trying to see the tv better. Hawk is already getting hard from watching his boyfriend twitch in his seat.
Reader grows tired of the game after a while and no real reaction from Demetri. She goes straight up to him and climbs onto his lap, rubbing her belly as she straddles him.
“Can you do me a favor and rub mommy's hips? Their so sore and my belly is so tender~”
Cut to Demetri whimpering and moaning into her tits as she grinds on his belly. She didn't even bother to wear panties. She rubs her clit and wet pussy all over his hard belly and makes a mess of him. But he's to busy to care because his face and head are stuffed into her fat tits.
It doesn't help that Hawk decided to join in by blowing him from behind Reader.
Hawk is quick to pop off the boys huge dick and jerk him while saying “Now be good for Daddy and Mommy, maybe Mommy will let you cum and Daddy might just swallow your mess~” and he goes back to licking and sucking at the angry head of Demetri’s cock. Hot tongue lapping at the slit before his lips engulfed half the hard shaft. He moans around it and plays with the boys plump balls.
All Demetri can do is moan and grip at Readers full hips.
Her big belly squished against him making his head spin.
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cherrycherish · 6 months ago
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It took him only a few minutes to devour everyone in the gym. When he - a beautiful boy no taller than 5 feet even - entered, no one took him for an apex predator... but he quickly proved otherwise, swallowing down hunks three times his size with ease, while remaining quick enough on his feet to cut off any escape. Only once he secured everyone in his stomach did he slow down, waddling over to the nearest bench. Two dozen people - who dedicated themselves to honing their bodies - were helpless inside of him. This was how he packed protein~
Oliver loved hopping between gyms for bulking, it was just too easy. When the lean little thing at the front desk stopped him to tell him that the gym was for preds, he made quick work of swallowing her down. Maybe she would've thought twice about her assumption if she saw the hungry glean in his eyes, he thought, admiring himself in a mirror, it must be time to trim his bangs again.
There were two entrances to the weight room, one through the locker room and one main door. With the front desk's keys in hand he had little issue locking the main door from the outside and heading in through the locker room. Under his baggy sweater his first course wiggled around but was hidden enough to go unnoticed.
Of course, because some people only go to the gym to socialize, a pair of idiots approached him within a minute of him entering the room. The larger one attempted to intimidate Oliver and the smaller one tried flirting. So noisy...
The larger one was mostly down his throat before he or his friend realized what was happening. A few hard gulps were all it took to finish him off, and as his body landing in the gut audibly sloshed, the smaller one tripped over his own two feet and was unceremoniously pulled in feet first.
Between his panicked yelp as he was quickly swallowed and the whine of Oliver's belly, the sounds of gym noise came to a halt.
"Hey! We don't allow predation in the gym, this is a safe space and--" The barking of the gym rat who approached was abruptly cut off by his head being forced into Oliver's maw.
The short pred pulled the rat in by his shirt, swallowing hard until he was trapped with the other three.
"Huurrrrrp!" Letting out some of the trapped air, Oliver felt the angry stirring of his occupants and grinned. Quickly grabbing and swallowing the three on the treadmills that had earbuds in and were completely oblivious, he followed after the rest who had made for the door, and were struggling to pry it open.
Using his belly as a blockade, Oliver sandwiched the hulking men against the door and took great pleasure in gulping them down one after the next. Most of them tried fighting him off once they realized the doors were locked, which only put them within arms reach of him. Pinned under or against his writhing belly, they had no hope of escaping their fate, but he commended their efforts. Weaklings were no fun at all to eat, the strong well toned idiots who relied on their stature struggled much more against the confines of his body. None of the fools had noticed his strong arms under his sweater, assuming that the shorty in baggy clothes couldn't possibly make a meal of anyone.
Pulling all that mass over to the nearest bench was a workout in itself, but Oliver relished their kicking and pressing against his flesh, belching up a pair of earbuds, he knew he wouldn't be able to leave for an hour at least. The quiet gym and lean pre workout snack were perfect for getting some weight lifting done.
"Finally," he sighed, listening to his stomach gurgle around all the hunks, "Relative peace and quiet."
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downwiththeficness · 1 year ago
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Shadow and Veil-Chapter Eleven
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Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction.  Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his  best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty  well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run  her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life  from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings  for her husband’s new business partner at bay.
A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed.  You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there  are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen  eyes.  This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence,  and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O  dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should  not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to  other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.  
Word Count:
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Masterlist            Read on AO3
Eva watched the front of the apartment building from a cafe across the street. She sipped at her third cup of coffee and wished she wasn’t so bored. Four hours of sitting there and he still hadn’t come out.
Two weeks Eva had been following him—on the days that she didn’t have a packed schedule and she thought Josh wouldn’t notice. He went for a run in the morning, came home, cleaned up. Sometimes, he would meet Javier and they would talk. Eva never had the courage to get close enough to hear what they were saying, but it looked serious.
Javier did a lot of head shaking and Diego spent a long time trying to convince him. Eventually, Javier would relent, slam down the rest of whatever he was drinking, and walk out looking angry. Diego would sometimes follow and sometimes he continued to sit at the table, thinking hard.
Movement at the apartment entrance drew her out of her thoughts. Eva watched as Diego descended the steps with a quick, confident stride. He bypassed his car, moving down the street. Throwing down some cash, Eva got up to follow him.
Three blocks he walked. Eva trailed him, glad that she’d worn sneakers. He seemed to be heading somewhere in particular, but she couldn’t think where. All the little cafes he usually frequented were in the other direction.
Four more blocks.
Diego ducked into the doorway of a place that could barely be called a restaurant. Eva edged up to the window and peered after him as he passed the empty counter and made his way to the back. She hesitated, knowing that she couldn’t follow him and remain hidden. Casting her eyes about, she looked for an answer.
To her left was an alley. It stank of leftover trash, but she could see that it went all the way to the back of the building. With no other course of action, Eva squared her shoulders and walked forward.
One hand on the brick wall, the other clutching the strap of her purse, Eva slowed near the back end of the narrow passage. Craning her neck, Eva eased around the corner and dropped to a crouch. She waddled along until she sat beneath an open window.
Eva stared into the middle distance as she listened to the owner bitch about having meetings in his kitchen. She could hear the slice of a knife through something dense, like onions. Diego’s smooth persuasion followed, assurances and the promise of money so that they could get the air conditioning fixed.
Another voice joined them, and another. Eva tried to place them, but they were unfamiliar to her. Greetings and the slap of flesh that had to be an enthusiastic handshake were interspersed with the sound of something frying in a hot pan. Eva adjusted her stance, trying to quell the beat of her heart so that she could hear.
A lighter flicked. Another voice. Javier. Conversation drifting from Spanish to English.
“Where are we?” One of the unfamiliar voices asked briskly.
“Had to pull back on the second phase of the deal,” Diego answered, “Target was getting suspicious.” There was a pause, “Got a look inside the factory, though. Top of the line equipment.”
Sweat dropped down the back of her neck. Eva swiped at it, trying to pull together what she was hearing with what she already knew. Was this Diego’s boss? He sounded American, no hint of accent—not even a slow Southern drawl. What was a Yank doing meddling this far south?
“Three more like it,” Javier offered. “We’ll try to get you pictures.”
Eva’s heart stuttered. They didn’t need pictures to know that Ardent could manufacture the drugs. Pictures meant they needed to know what the place looked like on the inside. Needing to know what the place looked like on the inside could mean a lot of things, but Eva was willing to bet they wanted to know how to get in and, most importantly, how to get out again.
Diego wanted to rob them. He wanted them to make the drug, get it ready for shipment, and then run off with it into the night. A very fucking stupid move. Josh would send Alexei after him and he’d end up in Josh’s lab.
“What about the wife?”
“What about her?”
Eva’s ears perked up, her eyes lifting to the window as if it would make her hear the conversation any better.
“You said she was angry.”
“She is.”
There was a hard edge to those two words. She could almost see Diego looking down his nose at the other man.
“And?”
Squinting, Eva lifted up as far as she thought was safe. Her thighs protested the position, but she didn’t care. She needed to know what he would say about her, which apparently wasn’t much. His silence was somehow reassuring and frustrating at the same time.
The man who might be Diego’s boss prompted, “Can we use her?”
“No.”
A soft breath left her. Eva dropped back down into a squat and wiped seat from her brow. Her pride refused to think about the relief she felt at Diego’s response.
“We are short on time,” Javier asserted, “Capitán.”
“He’s right, Carrillo. The feds expect an arrest. We didn’t bring you all the way to America so that you could fuck this up.”
Eva mouthed the word, ‘feds’, silently. Her confusion mounted as she tried to figure out what the feds had to do with a robbery.
“They will get an arrest,” Diego—Carrillo?—said, with conviction. “But, we’re not getting anywhere with his wife. She’s too smart for that.”
She preened a little bit with compliment.
“She’s an omega.”
“That doesn’t make her gullible.”
“She’s just as much in on it as the doctor. Get her on our team. Convince her to testify. Maybe it will be enough to keep her out of a jail cell.”
There was the sound of shuffling steps followed by water being poured into a pot. Eva listened, wondering if that was the end of it. She hoped so. Sweating and confused, she waddled out from beneath the window and stood, shaking out her aching legs.
“Why not use the woman?” Javier asked.
Eva froze, barely breathing, waiting for the response.
“Because Zero will kill her. And, I think she knows that.”
Zero?
“You’re too close to this and I think you know it.”
“I’m fine,” Diego-slash-Carrillo shot back, “We’ll get him another way.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes.”
There was a long pause, then, “While we’re here, we should eat. I’m starving.”
She couldn’t listen any more. Eva had heard more than enough and she needed to get out of there before someone caught her. Scurrying along, she went back the way she came, pausing near the mouth of the alley to make sure she wouldn’t run into anyone who might recognize her. Then, she turned left and hauled ass to her car.
Her roiling feelings tumbled around inside as she barreled down the highway. Eva slowed for a stop light, the turn for her neighborhood looming ahead. She gripped the wheel and guided the car in another direction.
Eva couldn’t go home. Not yet. Josh’s meeting ended in less than an hour and she didn’t know that she would have herself together by then. Her entire world felt like it was sliding around, butter on a hot plate.
There were more questions than answers.
Diego was not who he said he was. Neither was Javier.
The federal government wanted Josh arrested.
They wanted pictures of the factories.
He thought she was smart.
She shook her head hard to clear it. Eva couldn’t afford to let her feelings mingle with her logic. She needed to make decisions with a level head.
Eva pulled the car into the parking lot of the library, not knowing where else she could go that wouldn’t expect her to make a purchase or place an order. Sitting there, Eva chewed on her thumbnail and made herself think.
They were in trouble.
Deep, deep trouble.
If the feds were ready to arrest, it meant they had enough evidence that they felt they could charge Josh with something. It also meant that they could charge Eva with something. Diego—whoever he was—made the deal with Josh to set him up so that he could arrest him for… there were several options on the table. Drug trafficking being the least of them.
Diego was, therefore, a cop. Undercover. Working a case. A case that made Eva a target.  All of their interactions took another shine, illuminated by the knowledge that he’d been lying to her the whole time.
Fucking asshole.
Hot tears welled up and Eva didn’t have the strength to push them down. She’d been so stupid. So, so stupid. She’d almost let him in, let him break apart her life, let him throw her in a cell.
Almost.
Eva’s shame swelled into righteous anger. Anger at him. Anger at herself. It burned through her, a familiar weight that anchored her once more to the earth. Eva couldn’t afford to be hasty about this. There was now so much more at stake than her marriage or her need to run. One misstep and Eva would lose what little freedom she had entirely, possibly for the rest of her life.
Sniffing, she wiped her face and put the car in reverse. She backed out of the parking spot and pulled out of the lot onto the road. Her plan was the same—get the money, get out. Nothing had to change. Not really. She just had to move a little faster, now.
By the time she got to the house, Eva had picked up the shattered pieces of her emotions and put them back together. She walked inside, pausing as Alexei hustled around the corner from the direction of the kitchen.
“Birdie,” he greeted, “come with me. I have news.”
She flinched, watched his back as he strode towards The Lounge. There was no way he could possibly know—Eva, herself, had just found out. She took a steadying breath and followed, hoping that Alexei would not be able to see the way she was holding onto her sense of calm by her fingertips.
Josh was waiting for them, filling a glass with bourbon, “Where have you been?”
Eva’s step slowed, “The library. I had to return a book.”
He glared at her, then looked to Alexei, “Did you find it?”
“No.”
“For fuck’s sake!” Josh yelled, “It can’t have disappeared into thin air. It had to go somewhere.”
Eva folded her hands in front of her, trying to catch up. Josh was fairly vibrating with restrained anger and Alexei’s face was spotted with red. She looked closer. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. There was red caked beneath his fingernails.
“What’s going on?”
Josh glared at her again, “We lost the shipment.”
“Which shipment?”
He drank deeply, “The pills. The new batch. The ones we were supposed to send West.”
Eva’s jaw clenched on a single question. Had they already been caught?
Alexei held up both hands, “I have a lead on it.”
Josh pointed a finger at his friend, “This happened on your watch.”
Calmly, Alexei replied, “It did. And, I think I know where to find it. I just need time.”
Turning away, Josh paced towards the sliding doors, staring out towards the pool. Eva felt at a loss. Part of her wanted to tell them about what she’d heard and part of her wanted to keep it secret. Eva couldn’t trust them with this knowledge.
Eva couldn’t trust anyone.
“Birdie?”
She looked at Alexei.
“I need your eyes.”
He sat her down at the kitchen table with a map, a route schedule, and a list of people. Eva listened to him go over it, point by point. And then she listened again. He was patient with her, which was a surprise. If the shoe had been on the other foot, Eva would be demanding answers, demanding action. But, Alexei just sat next to her, pouring vodka from a bottle and giving her every detail he could.
“So, what happened?” Alexei asked.
Eva thought about it, “We used our own people for this? Every part of it?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
She sighed, “Then, someone’s been bribed. Or blackmailed. Or…” she hesitated, wondering if someone had been turned.
Alexei peered at her, “Or?”
“Threatened,” Eva finished quickly. “Someone isn’t with us anymore.”
He stared at the list of names he’d been writing down, “That’s the same conclusion I came to.”
She touched her brow, “You said you had a lead.”
“I do.”
“Who?”
Tossing back the last of his drink, Alexei tapped the paper, “I’ve narrowed it down to four.”
Eva’s brows quirked, “We’ll, that’s certainly a manageable number.”
Alexei was silent for a moment, “What do we do with them?”
She leaned away, “Isn’t that kind of your territory?”
He laughed, “Yours, too. If you’ll remember…”
Eva grit her teeth against the memory of Dr. Martin, “Only because Josh wanted me to go with you.”
Pouring another drink, Alexei made a low, amused noise, “Yes, he did.” He cast her a knowing look, “Want to know why?”
“Not really.”
Eva had been aiming for droll, but her voice came out thin and reedy. She felt more and more like Alexei was playing with her, a cat tossing around a mouse before devouring it.
“Too bad,” Alexei leaned forward, “He sent you with me to break you.”
She was silent, unwilling to provide any other response than the sound of her breathing.
“And it didn’t,” he continued, laughing. “Our scared little bird came out of the other end whole. It was fucking hilarious, let me tell you. To see him so frustrated by you.”
Eva started to rise, “Okay, I’m done. I don’t want to play this game anymore.”
Alexei’s hand shot out, grasping her wrist hard, “Too bad. You’re in the game whether you like it or not—you have been in the game since you met your husband in that god-forsaken church. You need to grow up and accept it.”
Jerking her arm away, Eva hurried from the dining room and sprinted up the stairs. She flew into her room and slammed the door behind her.
She hated him. She hated the both of them. It wasn’t enough to strike her down, to shame her, to make her feel tiny and terrified. They wanted to break her down, fracture everything she was—and, for what? So that she couldn’t fight back?
Overwhelmed, Eva marched into her closet and closed herself in. She sat on the floor and heaved ugly breaths that seared her lungs. It took a long time for her vision to focus again and, when it did, she could only see the small duffel hidden at the back.
Shuffling over to it, she slowly pulled the zipper open. Hands clenched in the fabric, Eva held it up to her face, inhaling.
Tobacco. Vetiver. Alpha.
Eva set it down as she renewed a decision she already made.
She was going to get control of this situation. She was going to get control and she was going to get out of it.
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quanblovk · 2 years ago
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The greatest warrior in the galaxy goes shopping with the shadow of the greatest swordsman.
▪︎Prologue
▪︎Chapter 1: A mysterious encounter!
▪︎Chapter 2: Shadow Cashier Dee's fate.
They could hear the heavy footsteps of the knight's sabatons approaching, along with the various items clattering against each other with each step inside the typical bright red shopping basket. Even behind the counter, Shadow Cashier could taste his unhappiness. Yup, they're not going to make it out alive this time, might as well get it over with...
The waddle dee slowly gets up and takes a deep breath before hopping onto a stool. Usually, this allowed them to reach their customers' eye levels, but in this case, it helped the cashier face their doomed fate.
Through the scarred mask, his eyes glared piercingly at the waddle dee. The cashier grips their chest, preparing themselves for the painful blades of Dark Meta Knight. That sword's branches never get any better the second time, not to mention that if one of those get stuck in their ribs...ah, they were already thinking about death. Well,atleast they won't feel too bad about it. The iron clad astral stepped closer..
"You're out of tomato soup."
"Yes sir, we're out of stock....."
Shadow Cashier Dee IMMEDIATELY flinched away as soon as they responded but the knight...seemed less angry? The cold, dark aura surrounding him also died down, not to mention that the overwhelming bloodlust that usually radiate from Dark Meta Knight appears to be absent. The waddle dee hesitantly turned their head back to take a closer look at the knight.
"Hm, how unfortunate."
"Y-yes sir...."
"Hey, you. What's your name?"
"E-eh?!? Well you- you can call me Cashier Dee, everyone does..."
Huh? Is he...talking to them? Are they actually having a conversation after all this time? Shadow Cashier Dee couldn't believe his eyes, this never happened before....
"Cashier Dee, if a shop like this exits in our realm, then would Dreamland have something similar?"
"I- Well maybe- no- yes!!! There would be!"
They clasp their hands together, nodding prefusely as an attempt to satisfy the knight's inquiries.
"Then that would mean, they'd still have tomato soup."
"Mhm...."
"Hey, how much does a can cost?
"I-it's about 14 starcoins s-sir."
"......"
The knight looks off towards the distance, as if he's in deep thought. This confused the waddle dee, why was he suddenly so tame? Wasn't he completely irritated earlier? Maybe...it wasn't directed at the store, maybe he was angry at something else..
Multiple questions popped in the cashier's head, overwhelming their little head. Ultimately, they just shrugged them off. It wasn't their business anyway-
"Lend me money."
"E-excuse me?- WAAAA!!!-"
The blade pierced through the protective glass, shattering it completely. The waddle dee narrowly escaped the blade by a hair's breadth, tumbling backwards and falling onto the cold, hard ground.
"That wasn't a question."
"Y-YES SIR!! I'LL GET YOUR MONEY RIGHT AWAY!!"
They hurriedly gathered the coins from the cashier box and gave it to the Dark Meta Knight, trying to steady their breathing so their trembling won't shake the coins out of their stubby little arms. With a quick swipe, the knight takes the money and immediately leaves, soaring straight out of the store before the automated doors could even open.
"......hmph, Dark Meta Knight? More like Dark Meta Hobo...."
"EXCUSE ME SIR!"
"WaAAAaAAaaAaAAAAAHHHH!!"
Suddenly, another waddle dee popped up from out of nowhere and almost scared the just-spared life out of the cashier!
"I would like to use this coupon!"
"Now hold on a second WHERE DID YOU COME FROM!?!"
"Not important! This coupon says that I can get a free ice cream, I want to use it!"
"Alright, give it here...........sorry, it's expired."
"W-what?! That can't be right! Can't you make an exception? It's just one ice cream! I had to hold my breath hiding in the oranges the entire time!"
"Alright, alright! Calm down and go get your damn ice cream or whatever. I don't care anymore."
"hmph, that's what I thought."
Satisfied with the cashier's defeat, the waddle dee strides in triumph to claim it's deserved award. It finds the freezer and picks up an ice cream cone with glee. However, that happiness was short-lived, as for the moment it took it out of the freezer, the waddle dee immediately scowled. They angrily stomped back at the counter and slammed their fists on its surface.
"this....this ice cream is melted!! You didn't even take care of the freezer properly!"
"Hm, someone must've tripped over the power cord during the evacuation. So now all the ice creams melted."
"EXCUSES!!"
"*sigh...*"
Shadow Cashier Dee reaches down under the counter.
"You aren't even doing your job properly! I know when someone's just damn lazy!"
They locate a safe
"I'm a customer, you can't treat me like this!!!"
They input the password aaaaand....
"I demand to talk to your manager!!"
"I am the manager."
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Shadow Cashier Dee equips the harpoon!
".....understandable, have a nice day!"
The waddle dee quickly took the melted Frosty Delight and ran straight out the store, not wanting to become a dee shish kebab today!
"Damn straight. *sigh*, now I have to rebuild this shop again...."
Meanwhile...
The dark knight managed to make it out of the Mirror World and is now hiding somewhere behind the trees and bushes of an unknown location. Knowing his counterpart's reputation and his appearance, the knight knew he needed a disguise, or atleast to get rid of the mask due to it being the main feature to distinguish Meta Knight.
So he took it off.
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Unlike his counterpart, he doesn't mind showing his face despite knowing the reason why Meta Knight keeps it hidden. The mask immediately vanished into thin air once it was removed, teleporting away to a safe place. When that was done, he scratched out the "M" on his right pauldron completely. Satisfied with his work, Dark Meta Knight sets out to Orange Ocean to find Pupupu mart.
[Next]
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