#if my beloved cat could lie to me she would but i hope it would be petty lies and not outright hurtful

[minhosimthings]

Gilded Skin || 18+

Synopsis: A makeout session with your tattoo artist neighbour

Pairings: tattoo artist!Jay × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, Dom!Jay, sub!reader, fingering, p in v sex, rough sex, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, manhandling because idk I love Jay's hands, kinda pervert Jay, unprotected sex (not for you), swearing, use of "sweetheart"

A/N: for you my beloved @jaeyunluvr. Also possibly my last work for in a while since I'm getting kinda busy!

Tattoos.

Controversial (to some people) as they were, you loved them.

The mere thought of getting a tattoo scared you though, yes they were pretty, but number one, money and number two, needles. But soon enough, your friend, Heeseung, who was ironically a tattoo artist himself convinced you to pay a visit to the tattoo parlour.

Normally you would have refused, stating the usual excuse of 'I'm busy maybe next time?'. But lo and behold to Heeseung's ears you agreed this time.

"It's because of that hot guy there isn't it?" Heeseung snickered, his hands on the steering wheel as he drove you to the parlour.

'That hot guy' aka your new neighbour, aka the tattoo artist at the new tattoo parlour that had opened up down the street.

Even though it had been just a two minute walk's distance from you, Heeseung insisted on coming to the parlour with you. Although his actual motives were to see you absolutely melt infront of the man you had a cunt-destroying crush on, he kept on with the absolute lie that he was trying to be a supportive friend, and also obseve the artists at the parlor.

"He has a name you know." You rolled your eyes as Heeseung parked his car into the alleyway, "It's Jay or something."

"So we can no longer call him 'hot guy'?" Heeseung asked, seemingly amused by the way you were fiddling with your fingers, "Shame, I liked that nickname. What do you like about him anyway?"

What did you like about him. What answer could you have possibly given to that? Of course there were so many factors. The fact that he was your new neighbour but you still hadn't talked to him, the fact that he fed the street cats, the fact that he-

"His hands."

Heeseung's reaction was... appropriate to say the least. His choking on air made you roll your eyes, as you slapped his back to make him calm down. Then after a few moments of silence, he burst out laughing.

"His WHAT?" Heeseung held his stomach as raucous laughs escaped his lips, "Please don't tell me you're being serious right now." He doubled over again, almost hitting his head to the car's ceiling.

"Oh shut up, you're talking as if you're any better." You rolled your eyes, opening the car door, with Heeseung doing the same, "Remember last September when you-"

"Do not even start right now." Heeseung glared, slamming his car door shut, "Come on, don't want to keep the hands waiting do we?"

Taking a deep breath and letting it out rather too quickly, you pushed on the neon pink decorated door, which opened with a tinkling sound. The smell of lavender hung around, an unfamiliar scent for a tattoo store, which was covered in rock posters from head to toe, along with a few blue beads here and there, the kind Heeseung liked to collect.

"Hey." You greeted the red haired girl behind the counter, "I have an appointment under the name Y/N."

The girl looked up and sent you a quick smile before looking down at her computer, her eyes whipping around before finding a spot she thought was satisfactory.

"Yep right here." She popped her lips together, "I'll see if anyone is free Ma'am, could you wait for a minute?"

You smiled at her as if to say yes and plopped down on the couch next to Heeseung, who had been analysing the store with a lot of vigour in his eyes.

"It's fancy." He whispered, eyeing the girl at the counter, "Let's just hope your man comes out and you can get to catcall him before he goes."

"I am not going to catcall him, im not you." You chuckled, getting distracted from the conversation when you saw a black haired figure from the corner of your eye.

"Is that-?" Heeseung didn't even have to finish his sentence. He knew, judging from the look in your eyes and the fact that your mouth fell slightly open, that this was the person he ever so passionately called "your man".

You were mesmerised.

No, mesmerised wasn't the right word.

You were starstruck.

Maybe your hormones were on a whole different level, maybe you had just been dick-deprived for a long time, or maybe it was the lavender fumes, but you truly thought you had seen a Greek God fill the vision of your corneas.

"Y/N. Y/N!"

You felt Heeseung's elbow jab you painfully in the side, which was effective in breaking you out of your stupor. You blinked a couple of times, to see the red haired woman and Jay looking at you in what seemed to be amusement.

The woman coughed to defuse the seeming tention, you swore you could feel Heeseung awkwardly smiling for your left.

Well they always say bad beginnings have good endings don't they?

"So," A steady hand carefully polished the silver of the miniscule needle, "Y/N was it?"

Though the air conditioning was turned onto a high, you could feel sweat drops form at your forehead, why were his hands polishing the needle so erotically?

"Y-Yeah. You're Jay right?" You managed to cough out, feeling yourself immediately melt into the chair leather chain again when his eyes fell on you. His eyes were sharp as an eagle's, seemingly darting around to catch it's prey, but never leaving one point of focus.

"Nervous?" Jay chuckled, "Don't be, unless you're chronically afraid of needles."

"I am." You laughed, leaning back a little more comfortably on the chair, "Probably shouldn't have gotten a tattoo then should I?"

"Perhaps not on your most sensitive area." Jay nodded, sitting in front of you, his legs spread wide open, did he realise how welcoming that was to you?, "Most people go for the arm, I'm surprised you went for your thigh."

"Heeseung told me it doesn't hurt much." You braced yourself in the chair at the sight of Jay's needle pressing into his tattoo machine, "He's a tattoo artist too."

"I should make a friend of him then." Jay chuckled, looking into your eyes, he could bore deepwells in them and you thought you'd forgive such a handsome man like him, "How did you meet him?"

"Are you-" you gave him a funny look, "Are you trying to make conversation with me?"

"It helps most of them." Jay shrugged and smiled at you, you noticed his dimple come off his cheek, the one you saw last week, whilst spying on him from your bedroom window.

"So, new neighbour who I've never talked to until now," Jay raised his eyes up to you, "How about some conversation to lessen the pain?"

You had always known since you were a child that you had the attention span of a butterfly, eyes always zooming from one place to the other, but you never knew all you needed was a handsome face and some pretty hands to get you to focus.

Jay's deep voice soothed into your nerves, effectively proving his theory of "more talk, less pain". You hadn't noticed much of the tattooing process, except for a few instances here and there when his knuckles brushed across the skin of your thigh, making you mold your orgasmic whimpers into 'painful' winces. You could physically hear Heeseung in your brain telling you about your pain kink.

"So any relationship goals?" Jay asked you, your eyes briefly meeting with his, as his fingers stopped to move across the cross section, "I know that's sorta personal, don't answer if you don't want to."

"No it's fine." You laughed, pretending as if you didn't maniacally want to answer the question, "I'm still single for now, and as for goals, I'm free for ramen tomorrow, and that's it."

"So how about ramen tomorrow then?" Jay smiled, looking up at you, his hands coming to a halt and resting softly on your thigh.

"Will we be eating or will we be talking like this?" You chuckled, your brain fog capturing you entirely as you had no idea what words were coming out of your mouth, "Because to be honest, I'd just be staring at either your lips or your hands if we do either of them."

The most painful part of getting a tattoo, according to the internet, was the beginning part, when you'd be so scared, because apparently fear paralyses you more than the actual tattoo process. But you now knew, the most painful part would probably be Jay's amused eyes staring at you, while your brain managed to catch up with what you just said.

"Oh- no! No I'm so sorry—i didn't mean-"

"It's fine sweetheart." Jay's soft voice stopped your panicking, he stifled a chuckle at your behaviour. Adorable, he thought.

"No I'm really sorry Jay, I shouldn't have said that." You apologised again, feeling the heat come upto your cheeks.

"Oh sweetheart." Jay chuckled, leaning in towards you, "Do you really think I had no idea of your pretty little face spying on me through your window?"

He knew?

"I must admit, you look cute in that flimsy tank top, which hides nothing by the way." His deep voice rang through your eardrums, "but don't worry, I won't press charges or anything on you for spying."

Your back pressed against the leather of the leaning chair, as Jay put his tattoo machine down. Taking off his gloves, his tongue swept across his lips in a swift motion, as his hands trapped you in a cage, laying on either side of you.

"May I?" Jay asked, not even waiting for permission, he already knew the next thing to come out of your mouth was a pathetic whimper.

Without a moment's waste, his soft lips landed on yours, hands rubbing to take off your shorts.

You soon became lost in his presence, lips meeting his in a fiery kiss. his tongue pushed past, kissing you like his life depended on it.

"Fuck sweetheart." Jay said, "You taste good."

You moaned quietly into his mouth, feeling his fingers trail down and start to rub your clit. Your hand came down to grab his cock, already half hard, and you could feel him growing with each stroke you gave him.

His fingers slipped past your clit, toying with your opening and eventually plunging in as deep as he could with the angle he was at. Your head fell back, resting on the leather of the chair as your pussy fluttered around his fingers.

“fuck, you're so tight.,” he managed to say through gritted teeth, chuckling as you let out a stifled whimper, "You like that baby? You like my fingers hm?"

He began to set a fast pace, one of his hands gripping your hip to keep you in place for him and the other hand next to your head. you could see the veins in his arms as it flexed beside you, no doubt he was trying to hold back.

Small whimpers came out of your mouth with each thrust, but then you heard it. Footsteps outside the room, you had forgotten you were in a public place in the heat of the moment. The footsteps died down after a few seconds.

“Just gonna have to keep those pretty sounds in. Wouldn’t want them to hear you,” You clenched down at that.

He chuckled, a devilish, almost cruel sounding chuckle like he had something in mind.

“oh you like that, huh? Like the idea of someone walking in on us fucking in here, watching us. Watching you come apart on my fingers. You’d like that, wouldn’t you baby? Dirty fucking slut.”

At that moment, he made it his mission to make you cum, hard. keeping one hand clamped around your mouth to stifle your moans, your eyes practically rolled back into your head when his fingers touched a particularly sensitive position, the new position making his fingers fuck impossibly deeper into you.

As you were nearing release Jay pulled away standing up, quickly unbuckling his pants to unveil his already hard twitching cock eager to pound into you.

“gonna let me fuck you princess? gonna be a good girl for me?” he says, stroking his dick as he swipes his thumb over his slit wiping away his precum yet it still spews out, covering thumbs in the substance

He held the base of his cock, dragging the tip in between your wet folds, before slowly pushing himself into you, causing a groan to escape from the back of his throat.

His hands grabbing onto your hips, he began to slowly move his hips watching your pussy swallow his cock.

“You feel so fucking good” he said as he began to pick up the pace. Your hand moved up to your mouth blocking out the moans leaving your lips, doing your very best to stay quiet enough so others wouldn’t hear your lewd sounds.

Jay's thrusts became rough, his hand releasing your hip entangling his fingers through your hair tugging on it as he pounded into you. “You’re such a good girl, taking me so well”. 

“fuck…you’re so tight” he says, pulling your legs up to sit on his shoulders as he thrusts inside you at a steady motion, fucking you deliciously in missionary. His eyes stare at your tits that are bouncing with each motion he pulls you in.

“fuck baby..i’m gonna cum…gonna cum inside” he says as he gets that dumb look on his face, he squeezes your breast with white knuckles as something to hold on to while his eyes roll back in his head, a beam of his sweat falling on your chest.

your orgasm comes as his does, his dick twitching inside of your cunt making it almost impossible to keep going.

“m’gonna cum too…” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing him further into you to feel his cum covering your walls. the warm liquid coming fast inside you.

as Jay pulls out, he’s met with his mess, the pool of his cum leaking out of your cunt.

His fingers make their way down and pump inside of you, the squelching noise of your wet pussy filling the room. His fingers make their way out of your cunt and up to your mouth, pushing in his cum covered fingers inside your mouth.

“Suck sweetheart.” he demands, and so you do. You suck the mixture of cum off of his fingers while maintaining eye contact, his thumb cradling your chin for support. You could get intoxicated on those eyes for centuries.

Jay's thumb swept out of your mouth swiftly, as his lips landed on yours again, pressing you into a sweet and chaste kiss, breathing heavily as he pulled away and supported your tired structure with his strong arms. You could see the veins flex on his hands.

"So how about that ramen date tomorrow hm?" Jay asked, his dimple once again appearing on his cheek, "that is, if you can handle staring at my hands while I eat."

"A ramen date, if I can walk by tomorrow." You chuckled, "So, I guess this messy hair is because I was struggling too much out of pain while getting the tattoo? Or should I tell Heeseung something else?"

"Tell him how good of an artist I am." Jay chuckled, "And that his friend won't have to spy through bedroom windows anymore."

"Was I really that noticeable?" You rolled your eyes playfully, as Jay handed you your shorts.

"Sweetheart you have no idea."

[leothetraveler]

KALLAMB PART THREE

I know I said it was a two-parter, but someone outside my friend group actually liked/showed interest so here we are.

“CONSORT?!?!” Leshy screamed as Kallamar finally broke the news to his siblings, his voice echoing slightly in the empty temple. He had been dreading this day. Convincing the followers to hide his true rank while the lamb freed them from torment was simple enough, though being without the comforts of him and Lamb’s shared tent was akin to agony. “N-now, brother, I know what it looks like-” he stammered. In all honestly, his siblings were taking it quite well.

“trai…tor….” Heket croaked. The lamb had yet to retrieve the relics and heal what was lost, but Heket could still manage a word or two with effort. She looked angrier than Leshy, ready to make a meal of him at any moment. “Sister, please. I just-”

“Just what?” Leshy interrupted, grabbing Kallamar by the neck of his robe, same as the rest of the flock to maintain appearance. “You didn’t even put up a fight! The moment your little pets died; you turned traitor. You didn’t even try to defend Shamura or our faith. Coward.”

“And what good would it have done?” Kallamar stared at the ground as he spoke, tears welling in his eyes. “Half my family dead… Shamura suffering worse… what hope was there for me, when neither of you could stop them?”

Heket groaned and turned to Narinder, who was sitting on the empty offering bowl at the back. “…And…You…?” Narinder scoffed, as if annoyed at being addressed at all at this ‘family reunion’. “What do you want me to say? I was annoyed as well when the Lamb showed him mercy…though they tempered my ire by saying I would get the pleasure of ending him. A well thought out lie, Kallamar.”

Kallamar winced in fear, still wary of his estranged brother. The lamb’s lie was clearly taken to be of his design despite him having no part in it. Leshy let go of Kallamar’s robe, placing his paws on their shoulders. “…why? After all we did…even giving our lives to fight that damned lamb…why did you submit? Why not at least TRY to protect your reign?”

Kallamar sighed. “Because…I knew just as well as our sibling that this was an unavoidable fate…nothing is eternal brother. Many of the gods we slew claimed to reign forever just as we did.” Tears slid down Kallamar’s face as he continued his confession. “I had no hope left. Plague, soldiers, even my beloved consorts. I sent it all at the Lamb, and it barely even slowed them.”

Leshy scoffed, pushing Kallamar back and causing him to fall backwards. “THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE FACED YOUR END LIKE WE DID! At least WE dared to even try! You-”

“I’m not a fighter like you and Heket!” Kallamar cried, “They would have slaughtered me all the same. What difference would it have made? We would still be here, at the Lamb’s mercy. At least now I have some influence. They trust me…they love me.” Leshy laughed. Heket groaned. A quiet “how sweet” drifted from the back corner where Shamura stood watching, whether aware of their relation to rest or not. “Laugh at me all you want,” Kallamar stood, wiping his tears, “but you’re still my siblings…so I pulled a few strings.” Kallamar nodded to Narinder, who pulled a concealed package from the offering bowl.

“…what…this…?” Heket forced herself to speak, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Kallamar took the packet from Narinder, who promptly left. “You don’t need me for this…you all decided I was not family long ago. And I have my own to look after.”

As the cat left, Kallamr unwrapped the gift, revealing three golden skull necklaces. The two siblings looked from the trinkets offered to them to their remorseful brother before them. “Me and Narinder don’t need them. Even with my crown broken and his taken, we were not killed. So, we still don’t age. The lamb managed to get these for me…for you three.”

The two stared at the necklaces for a moment. Then Leshy grabbed at the cloth, taking a necklace. Their fingers ran over it, scowling as they realized what they were holding. They growled as he went to the door. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you, traitor.” He said as he left the temple. Kallamar looked at Heket, the fury seen only minutes ago nowhere to be seen. She took both remaining necklaces in one hand. With the other, she pulled Kallamar into a one-armed hug. “…brother…” she croaked softly. Kallamar returned the hug, tears pouring down his face again. After a moment, they separated. “…traitor…” she said, making it clear she didn’t fully forgive him for what he did. Heket put one of the necklaces on Shamura and one on herself before guiding them out of the temple. Kallamar watched them leave before falling to his knees, his hand resting just below his throat as he stopped holding back his sobs.

The lamb would find him in the temple a few minutes later, still crying in shame. His family was broken and his consorts had all passed away at this point. He clung to Lamb as they tried to comfort him, holding on to the one thing he still had.

PREV FIRST

[moodymisty]

The fungus. The fungus! THE FUNGUS! THE F- but in all honesty, your honor, my wubby little blorbo shit man is so cute and those headcanons are on point.

Now, indulge my brain rot for just a second. Just imagine the other primarchs finding out that Mortarion had not only found a partner, but that they’re completely normal-looking and super kind. They’re pleasant smelling, friendly, talkative; everything Mortarion is not. I also like to imagine his partner talking about him like he’s a stray cat they picked up off the side of the road. Like,

���Yeah, he has his moments. Sometimes he can be a little cranky but I still love him. Sure he tried to kill Gulliman, but that’s just how he shows love!”

“Oh no I can’t wash that sweater. If I do Mortarion will freak out! He sleeps on that thing every night. Now, I have to go. If I’m not in his chambers at exactly 5 pm he’ll get lonely and cry so hard he’ll throw up”

Jesus christ that last sentence nearly made me piss myself laughing. Mortarion in a nutshell. The man is incapable of expressing himself in any productive way, so to have a beloved that is like, normal? Insane. No one thought Mortarion had any pull. Hell, they thought he had negative pull.

Also. I'm sorry but I got inspired by this so I hope you don't mind a drabble. No warnings apart from it being very rough and I only revised it once. 'She' is used once, but I can change it if you want.

Sanguinius walks into the massive room and makes a line right for the desk, of which Guilliman sits behind. He takes one glance upward at him, and notices the way he seems to be holding back a smile, and his wings are almost twitching. His eyes return to the parchment underneath his pen.

"I am busy. It better be quite important." Sanguinius tilts his head slightly to the side.

"You are always busy. But I can assure you that you'll want to hear this."

Eyes cast upwards at him, Guilliman looks at him with a furrowed brow. It would be quite odd for urgent news to be delivered with such a positive disposition, so he wonders what Sanguinius could possibly need to say. He waits on less so bated breath, and more so slight irritation.

"Mortarion has returned to Terra," Guilliman glances upward, and for a second Sanguinius sees the unfettered rage of a man on his wits end flash through his eyes.

"That is not urgent news." The angel has more words on his lips as he smirks and gently waves his hand. "I know, but let me finish." Guilliman puts the tip of his pen to parchment and continues writing while he waits for him to finish.

"And he has brought his lover with him."

The Primarch of the Ultramarines almost has to ask Sanguinius to repeat himself, even though he knows he hear it correctly. He pulls the tip of his pen lest it begin to drop too much ink, setting it into the well and looking up fully.

"Mortarion is courting someone?"

He would've been less surprised if it had been Ferrus.

Sanguinius' smile cracks through his withheld expression just a bit more. Guilliman wonders if he fought for the honor of surprising him with this news.

"Believe me, we were just as surprised. But she's here in the palace now. I believe Fulgrim got to her first. He seemed completely distraught afterwards, so I wanted to go take a look for myself."

Guilliman hears in his tone that there's an invitation to join him on his lips. And while Roboute knows that he has work to do, as he always does, he can't say this isn't a tempting offer. After only a moment of internal deliberation he sighs, and rises from his seat.

"Very well. I can't say I'm not curious."

The two of them walk side by side down the myriad of halls that only make up a tiny section of the palace, Sanguinius leading. He seems to have an idea as to where Mortarion and his supposed lover is. Guilliman doesn't quite know why he hesitates to fully believe this is even true. He doubts Sanguinius would ever lie but,

Mortarion?

While it takes a bit of searching, eventually the Primarch of the Death Guard is found, and his lover with him. Him and Sanguinius stay back, intent to watch the scene for a moment. And even though the two of them are silent, if anyone had been close they might've been able to hear the two of them thinking.

You seem, normal.

Guilliman thinks you wouldn't look out of place in a shopping district on Macragge. You wear the regalia of your Primarch's legion as decoration on your clothing, fabric a pallid purple, but nothing else seems out of place.

But unlike Mortarion who stands behind you sulking, you are all smiles- speaking to Vulkan with what seems like pleasant conversation. Where Mortarion seems unkempt, cast in a sour, near depressive moue, you seem nothing but clean and polite. Your smile is warm, as you compliment Vulkan about something as simple as the unique embellishments of his legion's armor, and Vulkan takes it with a signature humbleness. Though if he had to guess, Vulkan was also quite surprised that Mortarion's choice in lover has proven so, unlike him.

Guilliman watches, and when he looks to his right, he sees Sanguinius watching his expression closely. Guilliman looks back to the scene ahead of him.

"Hmm. Odd."

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

IPKKND ft. Jalebi

Warning: In this Jalebi edition I will write a slight canon divergence for me based on existing material 😊 it’s not a diss to the original! It’s just little/big changes (taking reality into consideration) - a what if based on what we HAVE. Hope you enjoy

#2 The Reveal

Original

Khushi, after watching Arnav suddenly be kind to her and watching a news bulletin that talks about a man marrying another so as to his astrological ill fate falls on the new wife instead of the one he intends to love and marry, assumes an atheist Arnav would precisely do the same - hence why he married her.

To marry his true love Lavanya and have his birth chart misfortune befall Khushi instead. Thus Arnav is planning to kill her and Khushi decides to kill herself before he does it first. And this is all played for “silly” comedy.

Arnav saves her from killing herself and tells her the truth. Khushi later pretends nothing happened and chirps around until Arnav confronts her again and she gets angry on him and he disbelieves her story.

Jalebi edition:

Post Holi Arnav and Khushi are very raw and vulnerable. Khushi understands the tension between Shyam and Arnav and is very restless about it. Why would Arnav keep glaring at his beloved jijaji? What wrong could have happened? Oh no, did he know the truth? How could he have known?

Shyam gets further desperate in getting his hands on the papers, and Khushi notices further the tension between the men. She decides to ask Arnav about it but is interrupted with Arnav fake romancing her as they had Anjali witnessing them. Khushi feels all their intimate moments were a play!

Angry, Khushi demands why much she pretend to be a happy wife? She accuses him of hurting her but he accuses her of hurting him more.

Shocked at that, Khushi fears the worst. One, he must’ve known about Shyam. Two, during Holi she must’ve blurted the truth to Shyam.

With Shyam getting more insulting, Khushi straight up heads to Shyam and demands he tells the truths to Arnav. Shyam tries to use to opportunity to get her to sign some papers by Arnav, but Khushi refuses. Angry, Shyam decides to play dirty.

He mocks Khushi that she must be knowing why Arnav married her. Khushi is stunned and Shyam, honestly, tells everything. That Arnav saw what happened on the terrace, misunderstood it, threatened and blackmailed Shyam, and the point of marriage was to use Khushi against Shyam.

Shyam is happy seeing confusion in Khushi’s face but Khushi calls him a liar and storms off, not believing a single word she said. She wonders if he indeed marry her for this and that she could take him to visit her family but in anger if he reveals the contract marriage they’d be hurt further.

Exhausted, she asks Arnav why he married her, Arnav tells her and Khushi can’t believe it. She asks him not to lie but he emphasizes he isn’t!

Khushi is shattered and chooses to kill herself but Arnav saves her, traumatized, and begs Khushi to explain the situation to him instead of…

Khushi yells at him, the sheer audacity to ask for an explanation when he left no room for questions.

Khushi tells the truth and accuses him of coming to the conclusion he perhaps always wanted to reach.

About her, her character.

(images sourced from the lovely Indi)

Tagging: @butaneandthebeast @shiyaravi @shaonsim @thenainitaldisaster @maansiloves @muttonthings @sapnokiduniyaisalwaysbetter @bengudill @myloveforstuff @laad-governess @laadgovernorandsankadevi @leila1 @lostafpanda @magicfeltmybloop @honeybellexox @featheredclover @goals1024 @bigfatreader @simplycurlz @persephone-with-a-cat @chutkiandchotte @sankititaliya @ijustchangedmyname @noor1025 @bitchy-bi-trash @thecharlesboyle @thedupattaknowswhatsup @exosexosekai @arnav-aur-khushi @whateverworks21 @starzin8s

(This is my permanent tagging list - I’m unable to get a few names cause tumblr doesn’t let them??? So sorry about that and if you want to be added/deleted lemme know)

[stormhearty]

Hello, storm, are you ali right? I hope so, because I've just read the last part of "Pushed to the Edge" and I've been staring at the wall since I finished reading it.

As a good lover of angst, I have to say that this ending broke my heart into pieces. And I don't even know where to start, but here we go!

I don't know what I felt when I got to the part where Azriel was listening to the inner circle being tortured and he was trying to reach them and couldn't. My heart ached the moment I read it. My heart ached the moment Nesta and Cassian screamed for each other, Feyre and Rhys. But I remembered all the moments when the reader begged to be heard, and was ignored and dismissed as nothing. As for Elain, I confess I thought she'd been killed, not that she was still alive, and nothing compares to my surprise at the moment she was stabbed, but again, here I am without reaction (rumor has it she looked like the Cheshire cat smiling). Could I feel sorry? Yes, but I remember her lying about her powers and as Eris said: what for? To win Azriel's affection and be seen, while Y/n was left in corners and erased like an unwanted stain on a sofa? But I'm not going to put all the blame on her, because even though she was a big idiot and a jerk, the whole Inner Circle had a hand in breaking our beloved reader (especially Az). And Azriel? Being tortured and used to help destroy Prythian was so I can't find words, because it will weigh heavily on him and how he failed as a companion and protector. And I confess I felt my soul weep when he saw her die for the second time, even though the first wasn't in his arms, and the second was the final one and it was in his arms😭 I didn't cry so much for his loss, but for her decision to die, but I can't see a place where she would live with her actions, even under the darkness. I'm not going to lie, I wanted to cry a lot when he saw that she was dying, my foolish heart can't take something like that, even though I know he deserved it and I reinforce what Kosechi said "You all never deserved it…"

Don't touch me! My Roman empire was thinking about Helion after the end, because even though he didn't appear, I kept thinking about how he felt about everything the reader was doing. I confess that one of my biggest fears was having to read about him here, since my heart couldn't bear to see him destroyed watching Y/n, but my imagination chased me and I just wanted to hug and comfort him😭

Thank you, Storm (that suits you as you brought a storm to me, causing my little boat to be shipwrecked) for giving us something as distressing as this story💖 it will have a place in my heart.

Note: maybe some words don't come out in the context I meant, because my English is a translator💀😭

@favsrachz

Hahaha!! I am doing great! I am super excited about people's reaction to the final part of "Pushed to the Edge"! And it looks like people are enjoying the twists and turns of the last part!

I so much enjoy reading your reaction to this last part, my dear!! It is a rollercoaster of emotions -- I really wanted to play with that. Reader getting her revenge against the IC, against Prythian, against Azriel. I wanted to have reader get her just dues with torturing the IC, letting them hear each other's agony and pain, when they couldn't do the same for her. That is their torture -- to be reminded of what they couldn't do for her.

And no! Haha! Elain didn't die (unfortunately). Reader wouldn't let her get away with it so easily with death . She wanted her to live and regret and have her family hate and dislike her for the rest of her eternal life.

And Azriel, being tortured and used was a small touched. Many people said that it would be interesting to see how far the inner circle would do to get her back, to show their devotion, to show their regret-- and Azriel's part shows that. He would do anything for her at that point.

And your right, reader wouldnt be able to live with herself knowing that she was a part of Prythian's destruction. You'll find out more of readers thoughts and insight and decision of all that in the epilogue

And Helion! My dear Day High Lord! I am and will write about that in the epilogue! The aftermath of this part will be written in the epilogue! Please do look forward to it!

And no! You are fine! I understood what you were trying to express and I have to tell you thank you so much for your support for this series!

And Storm is such a cute author nickname! Thank you ❤️❤️

[sleepy-ogre]

Today has been the absolutely most heartbreaking day of my life, a painful reminder that no one will understand my grief and sorrow over the unexpected passing of our beloved stray kitten Naina Nanoos. My mother had painstakingly rescued her from a garbage heap after hearing her cries of help all night. Her leg was stuck in a wire and the poor little girl was in extreme pain. My mother took great care of her as if it were her own child, being the sensitive person that she is.

Nanoos was like a breath of fresh air in our lives. Its quite difficult have just been shifted back to our country where people are seemingly so cold and distant. I admit, I think I have depression (even though I haven't been clinically diagnosed) and had been feeling extremely low for a long time. Till she came in our lives. Won't make sense to people who haven't had a pet but it genuinely felt like she could understand my pain. The affection she had for me with her touches really felt like a burden was off my chest.

We had get her leg amputated her leg due to the infection as a result of her leg getting stuck in the wires. Even then,she was remarkably active. Hopping around the furniture and always excited to play. The vets had informed us her chances of surviving the operation were slim. I remember crying profusely the day before the operation, hugging her petting her and playing as much as I could. Thankfully she recovered. We couldn't be more elated. Our only worry was to find a pet care taker who would keep her safe as we travelled to get our other two cats back to live with us.

Till she began vomiting relentlessly. We went back to the same clinic and they gave us conflicting reports. At first we were told it was just a parasitic infection (because we saw lots of worms in her vomit) so we just had to give her dewormers and she should be fine. But her health kept getting worse. She didn't eat because if she did, she would puke it out. She rapidly lost weight, weighing only 1kg400g which changed to 1kg25g overnight. A once healthy and playful kitten who had just recovered from a major surgery was now a former shell of herself, she kept limping lifelessly, almost collapsing in her own vomit. It was painful to see what she was going through but I had still held hope that frequent visits to the vet could change that. Even though we were later informed that the septic infection as a result of the injury had spread all over her body despite the amputation surgery.

I honestly didn't expect her to die so soon. I had such high hopes. I really wanted her to get along with my two pet cats and maybe, just maybe there would be some happiness in my life once again. My mother and my sister who already have issues of their own won't feel so blue again. We genuinely believed she would recover if we just gave her the prescribed medication. But her health got worse despite my mother rushing outside to save her 3 times today.

She passed away quietly in my mother's arms. I honestly didn't think she would die since I was unaware of the septic infection having spread throughout the body up until my mother told me today. I will not lie, I almost got catatonic, dazed in my own misery and sorrow. I kept saying sorry to her for not being with her till her last breath as if she was listening. I admit I became maniacal in my grief. Because, let me remind you, I DIDNT EXPECT THIS AT ALLL!!!

It also didn't help that my mother called over neighbours and relatives who were so apathetic. They had been judgemental from the start over my mother adopting Naina, who was nothing but a stray to them at the end of the day. But they sure loved to visit our home once a while to see her, all the while passing snide comments. So just hearing their hollow consolations set me off even more. My good for nothing uncle whom I have to "respect" even though he is a scumbag kept on saying harsh words to me. Even my grandmother was gaslighting me and even gossiping behind my mother's back about what happened today. This is frankly surprising coming from a woman who was cheering on my mother as she tried to rescue Naina from piles of garbage. People think I'm a crazy person just for having an outburst when these people were collectively gaslighting me. They weren't there to console us, they were just their to stroke their own egos for supposedly being there for us.

This isn't that surprising to me given how people are generally quite selfish and apathetic here, only heling you for financial gains. And I believe the vets had the same intentions. Throughout our visits they weren't very caring like vets should be especially in regards to communication. Moreover they would argue with each other in the OPD which was so embarrassing to witness. They didn't seem competent or at the very least, seem to have faith in their own competency.

I really don't know how I'm going to deal with the loss of such an angel in my life. I'm glad atleast we still have out two cats safe but I'm genuinely about bringing them here. All I have is her memories and all the photos and pictures I took of her. I still regret not having been by her side as I should have. I feel so stupid I feel so hopeless. It hurts physically too. I think today I have become completely cognizant and emotionally aware of the way life can perish away so unexpectedly. But I don't want to make this depressing even as I'm crying while I type this. I hope my angel is in peace and tranquil. I will forever cherish her for her youthful cheeriness and her softness. My only hope is that my dearest darling Nanoos felt loved as she slowly drifted away in my mother's arms.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Unconditional Love

Summary: Spencer is anxious to get home to help his secret fiancée grieve the loss of her beloved cat, Chuck. (Requested)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

CW: Loss of pet

Word Count: 2.5K

Unconditional Love

Spencer clicks his pen rapidly, his eyes constantly watching the clock. He’s waiting for 6:00, for the moment he can go home to her. Spencer never had someone to go home to until he met Y/N. It’s strange to be needed by someone and need that person in return. Spencer hated that he had to go to work and leave Y/N trapped in their little apartment where everything reminded her of Chuck. He kept his eye on the clock, just waiting till he could go back home and comfort his grieving girlfriend. He can tell that Derek and Elle notice his distraction, so he tries to keep his anxiety to himself.

“Reid,” Derek says, from across the desk, “you got a hot date or what?” he asks, not shying away from making Spencer blush.

“I-I, um. No I don't, I just have an appointment at 6:40. A dentist appointment. For uh, my teeth,” Spencer stammers, attempting, but failing to pacify Derek’s questioning.

“Is that right?” Derek asks, not believing him for even a second, “you should tell me where this late hours dentist is. I might need to see if I can switch over to them,”

“I don’t think she’s accepting new patients, Morgan,” Spencer says, nodding curtly and hoping that the conversation would be over.

Spencer slings his bag on his shoulder, nearly toppling over at the weight from his bag. Derek’s curious gaze doesn’t leave Spencer’s jittery one. He honestly thinks that Derek must be a real life Superman; his stare can look through steel. Under the scrutiny of Derek’s stare, Spencer’s brain racks for ways to get out of his predicament. His only option is to either dig himself further into his terrible lie or to deal with the humiliation of the truth.

“I don’t have a dentist appointment,” Spencer says, slumping back down in his chair across from Derek, “I went to the dentist 75 days ago, so I’ll have 106 more days before my next appointment-”

Derek holds a hand up, stopping Spencer’s ramble. He hates when they do that, it’s like they really only think he has anything interesting to say when it has to do with serial killer statistics. He knows that Derek wants to help, but that doesn’t lessen the sting of being silenced.

“Spence, man. I don’t care when you go to the dentist. I just want to know what’s making you all anxious and wanting to leave,” Derek asks, his concern for his co-worker apparent in his eyes.

Spencer takes a deep breath, never imagining that he’d tell his co-workers about his girlfriend quite like this. He knows the teasing and the jabs that will come, but right now he can deal with all that. Derek’s the genius when it comes to women, while Spencer is the bumbling fool. If anyone can help him help Y/N grieve, it’s Derek. Spencer knows that Derek is more sensitive and kind than he’d give himself credit for.

“It’s my girlfriend, her cat, well kind of our cat because we’ve been living together for like 5 months- uh, passed away. Chuck died,” Spencer says, explaining to Derek all about his girlfriend who he shares a home with and a cat.

“You have a girlfriend?” Derek asks, the shock not hidden in his question, “You have a girlfriend,” he says, again the tone of his voice stinging more than the silencing hand.

“Uh, fiancée, actually,” Spencer explains, pulling out and showing Derek the necklace with his engagement ring, “She wanted me to have an engagement ring too. I mean after all, she’s not the only one getting married,” Spencer explains, fully knowing that his cheeks were tinged red as he talked about Y/N.

“You’re getting married?” Derek asks, still not believing it, “You’re like a kid? Is that even legal?”

“Morgan,” Spencer groans, “I’m 23, I’ll be 24 in a couple weeks. Y/N is an English teacher in Woodbridge and uh, she’s the love of my life,” he explains, feeling a need to defend himself.

“Huh, who would have thought you’d be the first to get married,” Morgan says, a playful smirk on his face, “so backtrack for a second here, Reid. You’re girlfriend-”

“Fiancée” Spencer interjects, correcting Derek as he slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“So your fiancée’s cat passed away and you’re trying to get home to be with her? That’s very sweet Reid, but look man. You don’t have to be nervous. She already loves you, she’s said yes to marry you,”

“I know,” Spencer says, fiddling with his necklace, “I just. I’m not like you, Derek. You’re good with your words. I’m an idiot when it comes to these emotional things. I never know what to say,” Spencer professes. He runs his fingers over the crystal on his necklace, a black tourmaline. Y/N said that those crystals protect and heal. When she gave it to him she thought he’d need some protection and healing when she couldn’t be there with him. He might not believe that the crystal can do that, but he certainly believes in Y/N and that’s all that matters.

“Spence,” Derek says quietly, “She loves you and she wants you, Reid. Not anyone else on this planet,” he glances towards the clock and then to Hotch’s office, “get out of here, man. I’ll cover for you,”

“Thanks Derek,” Spencer says, scooping up his belongings and heading towards the elevator. He turns when he hears Morgan calling his name.

“Hey, Spence,” he says, “Whatever you say to her will be want she wants to hear, because it’s coming from you,”

Spencer smiles awkwardly, but appreciates his friend’s words of wisdom nonetheless. He turns back and walks into the elevator, nervous and anticipating what Y/N will be feeling when he gets home.

***

Before coming home, Spencer stopped at the small convenience store a couple blocks away from their apartment. He carries the bags of things for Y/N, resting them on the ground as he unlocks the door, not wanting to knock in case she’s sleeping. Spencer opens the door to the apartment, the darkness is unsettling. It’s usually so bright and cheery, but now it’s dim and gray. Spencer would give anything, do anything to turn around Y/N’s overwhelming sadness. He never knew true heartache until watching someone he loves have their heart shattered.

It’s quiet in the apartment, so quiet that Spencer thinks that she must be asleep. He creeps around into the kitchen, putting the ice cream away and Y/N’s gift on their kitchen table. He looks into the refrigerator, wondering what he could make for dinner that would make Y/N feel better. He thinks back to what Morgan told him, anything he does will make Y/N feel a little less alone, because it’s coming from him. Spencer, remembering the conversation he had once with Y/N’s grandfather, puts on a pot of chicken soup.

Spencer works quietly and he almost doesn’t hear when Y/N comes out of their shared bedroom. She sneaks up behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist and her head buried into his back. She breathes him in, taking in the way his cardigan feels against her cheek or maybe the way he smells with a mix of her shampoo and his cologne. He can feel how fragile she feels against his back, all he wants to do is hold her in his arms and tell her she’s going to be okay one day.

“You’re home,” she whispers into his back, “I’m so glad you’re home, Spence,” Y/N breathes in deeply, a sign to Spencer that she’s trying to hold back a new wave of tears. Chuck, her cat, had been with her since she was 10 years old. Now, 13 years later they’ve been through hardships and celebrations, losing him is one of the hardest things Y/N has ever gone through. All Spencer wants to do is shield her from all that pain.

“I’m glad to be home too,” he says, slipping his arms around her shoulder and bringing her in tight, “I’m glad to see you, Y/N. I missed you like crazy today,” he tells her, kissing her temple.

“Spence,” Y/N says, moving to sit down on the chairs in the kitchen, “it was a hard day, he’s the first thing that I think about when I wake up. And the last thing. My chest just hurts so much thinking about him. I-I just don’t-“

Spencer crouches down next to Y/N, rubbing his hand against her back. The small, comforting movements are rhythmic and steady, letting her know he’s here for as long as she needs. Y/N’s cries grow quieter and quieter, until they are nothing but a whimper.

“Shhh, it’s okay to cry, honey,” Spencer says, standing up and quickly turning the stove off to pay attention to Y/N, “come on, baby. Let’s sit on the couch-“

“Can you just hold me, Spence, please?” she asks, her face peeking out from her hands, looking shiny with tears and sad with grief.

“Of course, honey,” Spencer says, leading her over to their very old, very soft couch. Spencer sits down first, laying on his back and motions for Y/N to lay on top of him. She does, her head rests perfectly in the crook of Spencer’s neck and his arms come up to hug her tightly. He presses kisses and whispers words of adoration as Y/N cries. Each sob is like a knife to his chest. He hates seeing her like this, but he knows she has to get through this hump and to the other side.

“Y/N, baby. I know it hurts, love. I know it does. And I know that you don’t want to hear this yet, but one day it will get better. One day, we will be able to tell stories about Chuck,” he says, drawing shapes on her back. He can feel her breathe even out against his neck and his heart stops aching for a little bit.

“I just miss him so much, Spence. He was with me for everything. I mean everything. Every shitty date or terrible interview. When my great grandpa died. He’s the one that got me through this. He was three when I met you,” she says, recounting the years and years of good, bad and in the middle memories shared with her cat.

“I know, my sweet girl,” Spencer says, kissing her forehead and wiping the new tears that flow, “I know how much you love Chuck. He loved you so much, you know that right? You gave him such an amazing life, my love. He had a wonderful life. And very happy to have met him, even if it’s for only a short amount of time,” he says, hoping that Morgan is right.

“Thank you, Spence,” Y/N says, her voice still shaky and unsure, telling Spence that she’s not okay yet. But that’s okay, they’re in this together. Spencer promised her, as she promised him that they are in this together for life. Y/N offers him a weak smile, as she sits up on the couch. She tucks her knees to her chin, looking off in the distance. It’s still so potent, the pain that she’s in.

Spencer kisses her forehead and whispers that he loves her and will be right back. He goes to his work bag and pulls out the long velvet box that he’s been carrying around for the past couple of days. Walking back to Y/N, Spencer sits back down on the couch and takes her hands in his.

“I know a lot of things, Y/N” Spencer says, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand gently, “That’s what people tell me all the time. I’m smart and I know things. I think that’s why people like me,” he says, the words flooding out as his conversation with Morgan comes rushing back. He gets nervous, his words stumbling as he tries to articulate exactly what Y/N means to him.

She doesn’t interject or hold her hand up to tell him to hurry up or stop rambling. She just listens. Spencer doesn’t let himself get too caught up in the sentiment of it all, because he knows that if he looks too deeply into Y/N’s eyes he’ll never be able to say what he needs to.

“But, you. Y/N, you don’t love me because I’m smart or because I can memorize anything. You taught me love. Unconditionally, pure love. You’ll always love Chuck and he knew that. He knew he was loved. And-and I know I’m loved,” Spencer says, wiping his tears with the back of his palm and then returning his hands to be intertwined with Y/N’s again.

“I love you, Spence. You always know what to say,” Y/N says, kissing his hand as she brings her lips. Spencer feels a strange sense of pride as Y/N kisses his hand, a mix of her tears and laughter covering his skin.

“I have something for you, Y/N. I got it after Chuck died. I think that it will bring you some peace,” Spencer tells her, handing her the small velvet box.

“Spence, you didn’t have to-” Y/N starts, but Spencer kisses her cheek in an attempt to stop her, “Okay, maybe if you always shut me up like that, I’ll let it slide,” she says, a sliver of the old Y/N bubbling to the surface.

“Just open it,” he says, urging her on. He watches as she unhinges the velvet box, revealing a Celestite necklace. The light blue crystal is intertwined in gold wire. It’s beautiful and shimmers in the dim light of the living room. Y/N’s fingers touch the cool crystal, smiling to herself.

“I remember you telling me that these don’t have any scientific evidence that they work,” Y/N says, now sounding and looking like her old self again, “You were pretty adamant about that on our first date,” Y/N says, nudging him teasingly.

“I know things,” Spencer says, taking the necklace out of his shirt, “But I don’t know everything. You’re the one that gave me this. You’re the one that’s taught me how to love deeply. It’s scary sometimes being out there chasing down terrible men, but with this-with this, I feel safe. I feel you with me,” he says, tugging on the necklace.

“I love you, Spence. I don’t know how I’d get over this without you, baby,” Y/N says, leaning into Spencer’s chest, “and I love my necklace and I love you. I might have said that already?” she says, kissing his cheek.

“We’re going to get through this together, Y/N. Just take your time. I’ll be here forever,” Spencer says, settling into the couch and pulling the blankets around them.

“Oh and Derek knows we’re getting married,” Spencer says, dropping a bomb so nonchalantly that she can’t help but laugh for the first time in a week.

---

TAGLIST

@shemarmooresfedora @april-14-blog @willowrose99 @calm-and-doctor @spideygenius @measure-in-pain @nomajdetective @spencerreid9 @saspencereid @laurakirsten0502 @winifrede @muffin-cup @spencers-dria

[anxiousstark]

The Aura Painter | DOB

Painter! Dylan x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 12K (12.057)

Warnings: Mentions of sexism, masturbation (mutual or solo), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), cum play, breeding kink, filthy tbh, some cliché romance scenes. This is my second time writing ‘smut’. But this is the first time writing something so long and so filthy, bear with me.

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve had in mind for so long. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed imagining it. And of course, writing it. If you do, please give it some love and share it. The biggest solo piece I’ve ever written!

All Rights Reserved. The author, me, don’t allow any type of copy or adaption.

BIG MASTERLIST  |  KO-FI

Words you must know for the fic:

Onism (n.) the awarness of how little of the world you will experience.

Heriaeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you canot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning. the grief of lost places of your past.

Elysian (adj.) beautiful or creative; divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.

.

The droplets of rain fell against the glass, leaving a trail which I followed with my gaze. The glistening tear of water disappeared before I could place my finger against the window and imitate that I could command its movement.

The sky seemed to cry, turning a darker shade. Perhaps the sky had lost a lover or perhaps, the one they loved was far from its reach. I could not tell as I never experienced one of those stories.

The books I had to read as a child were those who would teach me how to act and think. But those I read on the confines of my room when everyone was sleeping were different. Those told the story of a beautiful lady who wished to be rescued by a gentleman. I would try not to squeal under my blanket, as that was something, a lady of a high position should not do.

I glanced at the sky again as it screamed, lightly swaying the trees outside while his droplets of tears wetted everything under itself.

"M'lady," I corrected my form, trying to look as straight as possible. Turning around, I glimpsed directly into a pair of green eyes that seemed to lose their brightness as the seasons passed. Those eyes used to be the brightest ones in this palace, but now they were almost colourless, decorated by a couple of wrinkles. "Your mother is asking for your presence at her table."

That was unusual. My mother was a sophisticated distant woman who liked to spend time on her own. Hence, she tried to escape from her responsibilities as a Queen while having breakfast by herself. She would relax outside in the gardens. A small white table filled with her preferred meals, and even if she sought to convince herself, and lie to me about her drink being just a mere juice, everyone knew it wasn't.

"Tell me, Harold," While walking through the corridors of the palace, I noticed once again the monotony. The clicking of my heels appeared to be the only sound, except the melody of the rain falling against hard surfaces. "Did the Queen seem mad?"

Harold tried not to chuckle, knowing that if my parents or any of my siblings were near, he would end up getting struck by executing such a natural gesture. "I must say that the Queen did not ask for the cello man to accompany her this morning with some music."

I gasped, glancing at him to discern if he was teasing me. Harold had been in our family for so many years. I dare to say that he was in this palace before anyone else.

"She must be quite mad, then." I bit my lower lip, trying to think what of the things I have done could have gotten her mad, and how she had discovered them. "Perhaps she found the romance novels hidden in my room?" I muttered to myself.

"M'lady," Harold opened the door to the great hall. "She preferred to eat her breakfast in here as it is raining cats and dogs outside." He whispered, letting me walk in first. I silently nodded my head, wandering closer to my mother, who was sitting on the farthest place even though she was on her own. "My Queen. The young Lady has arrived. If my services are required, I will be waiting outside to escort the young Lady back to her room."

I shivered as soon as Harold left the room, wishing he could have stayed with me. But of course, he did not deserve the wrath of my mother. While walking closer to her, my clicking heels seemed to resemble the countdown of a bomb that would explode shortly.

"Take a seat, my darling," She demanded as soon as I was close to her. I swallowed, swiftly grabbing the skirts of my dress. I sat down on the white chair in front of her. She coughed. "Someone quite similar to the young Lady of the palace has been seen on the street market." A newspaper was placed on top of the table, facing me.

I swallowed one more time. "Must be someone who resembles me." I attempted to sound confident. "I am afraid that happened on Friday, and I take piano, courtesy and manner classes that day."

"Tell me, darling," She faked a smile. Her dark brown eyes, studying my position and expressions. "May I ask how you knew this happened on Friday as the article does not say something like that?"

"I-." Her stare became even more intimidating. "Guessed?" I squinted my eyes, perceiving that she would raise her voice to inhuman levels.

"Nor did you only skip your classes, you also lied and went outside on your own." Her tone was sharp. "Hideous things could have happened to you. Do you know what this could mean to your brother's throne?" Of course, this was about my dear brother. "The sister of the future King of Onism does not follow the rules of the palace. Then, what should they expect from their new King?"

"I did not do anything inappropriate, mother." I sighed, shifting my gaze to look at her directly. "I did not get in trouble, and as you can perceive, I am all right."

She rolled her eyes, which surprised me as she always claimed for that gesture not being refined. "And books," She pointed to one of the chairs, where I noticed all my favourite romance novels resting upon it. She had found them.

"May at least have some privacy in the confines of my bedroom?" I was mad, but raising my voice to her would get me in even more trouble. "Those," I referred to the pile of books that were my most precious property. "Those are mine."

"Not anymore," She got up, grabbing one of them and examining the title. "Romance novels? When will you understand that nothing like this happens in real life?"

I felt a little strength going through my body. "That book, in particular, describes the love story of the author! It is a romance that happened to her in real life. It is not fiction."

"But that woman was not a princess, was she?" I shook my head as she waited for my answer. "However, you are one. Even if you do not have anything to do with the future throne of Onism, your brother does, and you must behave like a princess." She walked closer to the fireplace. My eyes widened, and I gasped loudly. "You are a woman and a princess. The only thing you must worry about is making your future husband happy while following his rules, even if you do not love him." She opened the book, her skinny finger ripping some of the pages, and in the process, shattering my heart. "You will get married to someone you do not love, just to unite two countries." She let the book slip from her fingers. Falling to the fire, and burning as much as my eyes were burning due to the tears. "Stop filling your head with stories that will never happen to you. You are dismissed."

I got up from the chair, slightly glancing at the pile of books. I knew they would end up in the fireplace, slowly burning. I bowed my head. "I apologize, mother." She made a gesture with her hand, instructing me to leave the great hall.

My head was down as I walked to the door, wishing to exit the room and rant to Harold. "Wait," The voice of my mother interrupted my walk. "Get prepared as in two hours a man will come to paint a portrait of you. We will send the portraits to different future Kings of other countries that have shown interest in courting you."

"Yes, mother." I could not argue.

As I came out of the room, I noticed Harold's gaze fixed on me. I shook my head, letting him accompany me to my chambers. While walking through the long corridors, I glanced outside the windows. I reminded myself that I would never dance under the rain with someone while we laugh and kiss. I will never be caressed with love. I will only be touched with the purpose of bringing an heir to someone. An heir that would have to live the same dull life as me.

Going inside my bedroom, Harold bowed his head while he walked away. However, three ladies that worked in the palace entered my room, ready to assist me. I could not even take a bath on my own, nor could I dress by myself as the three of them did it for me.

"The painter will be here soon, ma'am," Rosetta informed, deciding to stay in the room as a lady should not be alone in a room with a man who is not her beloved husband. "He is a painter from town, said to have a gift."

"Is he quite known?" I asked to continue the conversation as I did not want to be rude. Nonetheless, the image of my books burning was the only thing in my mind.

"He is known in town for doing amazing portraits in exchange for food and a place to live." My curiosity peaked at the comment. "Royals are quite interested in getting their portraits done by him. Though, he had denied their offers." I looked at her with confusion. "He does not want to be related to any royalty member." I nodded my head, understanding why he did not want that.

There were two knocks on the door, indicating that the painter was here. I was quite surprised as my mother wanted the portrait to be painted in my private chambers. "Please, come inside."

When the door opened, a tall man came inside. He was probably around 5' 10". Wide shoulders that were covered by dark brown clothes. It seemed to be his best attire. Even though you could see the cheap fabric, and how he had tried to cover some holes and get rid of some stains. He had tried to gel his hair back. At first, I thought his hair was black until a streak of light fell on him, and I discerned it was a little lighter than that.

His light brown eyes fell on me, and studying them in-depth, I noticed that they resembled to be hazel. He bowed his head. "Uhm, it is a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I am here to-."

I offered him a smile. "Welcome to the palace," I bowed my head a little, which seemed to surprise him. "Please, do not call me Princess. It is fine to call me Lady." I gestured to one of the chairs in my room. "Please take a seat. It must have been a bumpy ride to the palace."

While sitting down, he nodded his head. There was a big black binder between his hands. Noticing my gaze on it, he quickly opened it, showing different canvas. "I can make different types of portraits. I thought I should bring some examples for the Pri-, Lady to choose the one she fancies the most." He stretched his arm, providing his drawings for me to look at them.

"May I ask for your name, sir?" My eyes focused on his drawings, understanding why everyone wanted to get their portrait done by the young man.

"My family name is O'Brien, while my name is Dylan, my Lady."

I nodded my head while still focused on his magnificent paintings. However, one in particular seemed to grab my full attention. It was the portrait of an elder, who appeared to be looking deep into me. He was skinny, and by his clothes, I could tell he was poor. He was sitting on a chair, and I almost gasped when I discerned that he had a missing leg. His expression was warm, a gorgeous smile decorating his face. Though, you could see that he had missing teeth.

"Did you find any equivalent style to what you desire?" His soft voice snapped me from my thoughts.

"May I ask?" I turned the portrait around, giving it back. His eyes examined the elder he had drawn. "Why is he smiling, but there are shadows around him?" I had noticed that the elder was smiling. However, black and grey adumbrations were around his figure. Some resembled horrible monsters. Especially a grey shadow that resembled a demon, resting upon his head.

He chuckled. "Those are the ones people in town ask the most." He glanced at me. "I draw their exterior as they want other people to see them. But then, around them, I draw what I can perceive or what I learnt about them." I furrowed my eyebrows. "Sadly, this man passed away a couple of weeks ago due to a cold." He licked his bottom lip. "He had offered me a home for a couple of days, and of course, he had proposed food in exchange for a portrait. Those days, I learnt many things while listening to his stories. I noticed that the man was attempting to look happy for his sick wife, whom he loved with his entire soul."

I fidgeted on my seat. "What happened, then?" I curiously asked, making him grin.

"He was not happy. He was afraid of losing the love of his life because death had knocked a couple of times on their door." He glanced at the painting. "Their children had married to people in higher positions, ignoring the elderly couple and not helping them with medicines. He was 87 years old, working in the town market. He was selling vegetables that he was cultivating by himself." He decided to continue as he saw that I was expectant of knowing more. "He never lost the smile for anyone, even if people did not treat him right. And of course, when arriving at his house, he would maintain the smile for his wife."

"Then," I tried to hide my teary eyes. "Those dark shadows..."

"Those are the monsters he tried to hide, but that I got to meet. The fear of losing his wife, the frightening feeling of wanting to end his own life, the fear of not having money to pay for his wife medicines, and so much more."

"And what happened to them?" Rosetta coughed, indicating me to fix my posture, and I quickly did, which made him furrow his eyebrows.

"As I said, one of his biggest fears was that they did not have enough money to pay for his wife's medicines." He peeped at the ground for mere seconds. "She died in her sleep. Her body could not hold the pain anymore, and she faded away."

"What about the old man?"

He nodded his head, his gaze shifting to the portrait. "He passed away in his sleep too. There was a smile in his face."

I blinked, affected by the grievous story of those who had to fight to survive. "I want one of those!" Both Rosetta and Dylan looked at me with surprised expressions decorating their faces. "I would like one of those portraits."

"My Lady, I'm sorry to intervene on matters that I should not. But I do not think the Queen will like such a portrait to be sent to those who are interested in courting you." She was right.

"She will not look at the portrait. Harold will be the one sending them." I affirmed, knowing that my mother would not dirty her hands for anything.

"It could get the young man in trouble, my Lady."

I glance at the man, who was looking at Rosetta until his eyes met mine. "Yes," I smiled, even though I was upset. "You are right. Then," I studied a portrait, a simple one. "I would like this one." Dylan nodded his head.

"It would take a couple of days to finish it. But I will be staying in the palace for the time being." He informed. "Is there any time of the day where you prefer to spend your time just standing in front of me?" He blushed a little. "Just for the portrait, of course."

"Tuesdays and Fridays I must spend receiving 'Lady classes'. The rest of the days and hours, I will be in here." I sighed, offering him another smile. "Did they give you directions for the room where you will stay?" Nodding his head, he showed me a piece of paper with some important directions to places of the palace that he could visit. "Your bedroom is at the end of this corridor. You are lucky as it is empty, except for me and Harold's room." Of course, he had met Harold already. "I must warn you not to leave your room after 11 pm as there are guards everywhere." I got up from my chair. "Rosetta," I pointed at her. "She will bring every meal to your room. Do not hesitate if you need to ask them something. There are a bathroom and a study in your chambers."

Before he could answer, the door of my chambers opened. A broad man stumbled in with decisive steps, and fury adorning his face. I gulped, stepping back before I could hold myself.

The man threw a newspaper at me, hitting my chest. Glancing at the floor, I witnessed the same newspaper my mother had been holding a couple of minutes ago. "Again?" His voice was sharp. "Did you escape again to buy those stupid books?" I shook my head. "Oh, yes, you did. Mother told me." His boots sounded like thunders as he walked closer. "I do not desire to hear any rumour of how my sister is not acting like a lady." My brother Evans glared at me. "If my future in the throne is affected by your stupid imagination and ambitions, I swear I will do whatever I must do for you to learn your lesson."

"I am s-."

"Do not you dare speak back to me!" He screamed. His gaze shifted to Dylan, who was standing too, eyes widened and what seemed anger decorating his face. "Are you the painter?" He nodded his head. "Try to make her attractive in the portrait. Hopefully, some rich soon-to-be King from another country will want to marry her." He peered at me. "Luckily, he will know when a woman needs a genuine beating to act like a lady or a wife." Those were his final words as he left the room. I finally could breathe.

"Uhm," My legs shook, and I attempted to hide it. "As I said before if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, my Lady." He got up from his chair, clutching his paintings. "Is it all right to start with the portrait tomorrow morning?" I nodded my head, wishing him goodnight as he left my bedroom.

"Rosetta," Her hands were behind her back, respectfully. "Tell Harold that I demanded not to be disturbed tonight. Not even for dinner." She nodded her head, bowing and leaving me on my own.

I sighed, wandering closer to a full-body mirror that decorated one of my walls. The moment I feared the most was getting closer. I would marry someone whom I do not love. I would marry someone whose eyes would not hold back from gawking at other women. And with those thoughts in mind, I went to sleep.

The following day, I decided to have breakfast and lunch in my chambers, not wanting to face my mother or my older brother. I had convinced Harold to stay outside my room, wanting to be on my own with Dylan. I thought that I would feel more comfortable if I didn't have someone constantly checking my posture or warning me of what should not say. Moreover, I also believed that a painter needed his privacy to reflect his art on a canvas.

I was stunned toward the bright day outside. Looking out of the window, I saw my little siblings running around the garden as some servants followed them. They were probably making their job even more complicated. Alexander and Victoria were quite the troublemakers. However, I was thrilled for them as they would not have to follow such strict indications, as to the ones I had to obey.

"Are those your siblings, my Lady?" Scared by the prompt presence, I turned around. Dylan was standing there, holding a big canvas and a briefcase, which I assumed held his painting materials. "I apologize if I alarmed you. Harold permitted me to come inside."

I nodded my head. "Yes, they are twins." I offered him a smile as he grabbed a chair, placing it in front of me. I discerned that my back was resting against the wall, and I quickly moved to stand straight. "Oh, please, no." He extended his arm. "Would it be okay for you to go back to that position? The light was caressing the right side of your face. There was a beautiful contrast." I swallowed, nodding my head while resting my back against the wall. I heard him chuckle. "Please, do not worry. It is okay for you to blink, breathe or swallow. It is also okay for you to do light movements."

"May I talk?"

"I am not great at holding conversations, but I will try my best, my Lady." He placed the blank canvas on the easel. His hands worked fast while taking out his painting material from the briefcase. "If it is not rude," He swallowed, probably questioning himself if it was okay to continue speaking. "I have noticed some books lying under the bed," I glance at my bed. Noticing that some books could be seen, which meant he was good at observing and that I did not hide my books correctly. "What books do you read?"

"Well," I gulped. "I read books about manners a lady should have in front of males and for the table. I study geography too as I must know the rest of countries for future alliances, and-."

"I apologize, my Lady." He wetted his brush. "Perhaps I formed the question wrongly. I wanted to know which books you enjoy."

My mouth opened as no one has ever asked me such a question. "You will think I am a typical young girl."

"Cannot think like that, my Lady." He mixed some colours. His painting brush, caressing the canvas delicately. "You are not a typical young girl. You are the Princess of Onism." Though those words shattered my heart, he was right. I would never be a 'normal' girl as my life was nothing like the one of an ordinary lady. "However," He continued. "When you paint someone, you get to comprehend them deeply. I believe I might discover that you are an ordinary human at heart. Something beautiful that would separate you from cold-hearted royalty." I was surprised by his words as people would not dare to talk of royalty like that.

I offered him a smile. "You might." He got distracted for a couple of seconds. His eyes navigated from the canvas to me, trying to retain my features and the folds of my clothes. "Romance." I was flustered. "I do truly enjoy romance."

"I presume something you will experience as soon as these portraits are sent."

I shook my head. "Something I presume I will never experience." His eyebrows furrowed once again. "Royalty men have the right to choose whom they will marry, even if they do not love them. Women will have to accept whomever their parents choose for her." My gaze shifted to the window for a couple of seconds. "It is my destiny."

He stopped painting for mere seconds, staring at me while slowly blinking. "Destiny can be changed." I shook my head. "It can," He nodded his head. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." He grinned. "That is something my father used to say."

"Used?"

"He passed away." He gritted his teeth. "He was a great painter too. Better than me." To my curious gaze, he decided to continue. "My mother left when I was a baby. She fell in love with a younger man, leaving my dad and me." He gulped. "Therefore, I would not dare to say that I have seen love as my mother left without looking back."

"H-Have you experience love, sir?"

"Please, call me Dylan, my Lady." There was a comfortable silence between us as he seemed to be concentrating on the portrait. "Not sure I did. Love is not what is shown in books. Nonetheless, I would like it to be like that."

"I cannot agree or disagree." I offered a sad smile, trying to hide my tears. "May we take a rest?"

He glanced at the clock hanging on my wall, nodding his head. "I apologize, time went by so fast." He cleaned and placed his paints inside his briefcase. "Good night, my Lady." I bowed back to him as he closed the door.

I waited for a couple of minutes, opening the door and seeing Rosetta waiting there. "Where is Harold?" I glance around, hoping to see the grey-haired man.

"He had to take care of some issues." She replied, looking nervous. "Do you need anything, my Lady?"

I quickly nodded my head. "I expect no dinner today, and I demand to be left alone." She furrowed her eyebrows, and before she could speak back, I stopped her. "I would like to take my nightly bath on my own, please." She nodded her head, walking away after wishing me a good night.

I closed the door of my chambers, quickly locking it as I rapidly walked into my bathroom, doing the same thing to the door. Walking closer to the bath, I turned on the faucet. I checked the temperature of the water until it was lukewarm.

I sighed as my hands went to my back, untying my dress. As the clothes fell to the ground in a surprisingly elegant manner, I appreciated not being forced to wear a corset. My legs shook as I placed one inside the water until I was sitting down.

I have read in books how a woman and a man would fall in love. A passion that they could not resist. An absolute passion that would make their hands wander through their bodies, wanting to feel each other as close as possible. I have read it so many times that I could lie to my head, making it think that I have experienced something like that.

I have read the way hands seem to burn on the skin, and how breathing becomes more arduous. And how after being pleasured, you need it over, and over again.

I sighed, feeling my nipples hardening, and I learnt they could do so even if the temperature was not cold. My left hand gripped the edge of the bathtub as the right hand rested on my chest. I decided it was time to move it, and closing my eyes, I left it to wander down while grazing my nipples.

When my fingers caressed my tummy, they seemed to become shy. Not used to the places they were descending. I have read books, but I have never experienced the feeling, which made me feel curious.

I tried to remember all the books. My fingers ended up placed on top of my bundle of nerves, and just the mere touch made me shiver from excitement. I slowly moved them in circles, adding more pressure, little by little. The temperature down there seemed to get warmer to the point where it burned. I could not avoid the need to move my fingers faster.

My left hand continued to grip the edge of the bathtub, but this time harder as my mouth opened and my vision became blurry. I felt this strange sensation. I felt like I was going to urinate inside the warm water, and even though I felt quite disgusted by the thought, I could not stop my fingers. They moved in circles, faster and adding much more pressure.

And it came. A rush of pleasure came over my body, and I could not hold back the moans escaping my mouth as I peeped down between my legs. My intimate parts turned red due to temperature and agitation. Then, I regarded the water near it, looking less transparent. So that was it. That is what a woman felt after pleasuring herself.

Curiosity invaded me even more, and I wanted to experience more further.

A couple of days had gone by, and the portrait was already looking amazingly good. I did not have any doubt of Dylan's talent as I have seen some of his works.

"Has anyone shown you around?" We had got a little closer as we spent many hours together for the portrait. He shook his head, taking off his dark green beret, and resting it on a nearer seat as he proceeded to mix some colours. "Would you like to see the gardens and the horses?"

His eyes widened. "Horses, my Lady?" I chuckled at his expression, nodding my head.

"Eight to be exact." His eyes widened even more. I remembered everything he had told me about himself, especially his love for horses. "We could take a rest. I feel dizzy from the smell of paint." He promptly nodded his head, halting and resting his brush on top of an antique plate stuffed with remains of paint.

Strolling through the gardens, I peered at him. He seemed content, having the chance to smell the fresh air mingled with the scent of the white roses that decorated our gardens. "White roses are your favourites." He had surprised me while retrieving such a simple, but a unique fact about me.

I nodded my head. "I prefer them over red roses. Those are overrated." He laughed, making my heart beat loudly. Dylan was an attractive man, and these past days I could not stop my body and my heart from reacting as soon as my gaze met his. "The stables are over there." I pointed to a couple of meters away from us. I extracted my arm as I felt something falling on it. "Oh, it seems like it   will start drizzling." We walked faster to the stables, almost running as the rain appeared to fall swiftly upon our clothes. "You will adore Arden. He is my hor-." I was interrupted as I saw two bodies stirring frantically against each other. Their moans, invading the stables. "Wh-." A hand covered my mouth while another dragged me off the stables. Dylan and I ran under the rain, getting as far as possible from the horses' house.

Both of us gawked at each other in astonishment. "Maybe my eyes deceived me. However, I believe that was Harold?" He seemed as shocked as me.

"They did not trick you." I gulped. "May I add that woman was my mother?"

His eyes widened even more. "T-The Queen?" I nodded my head. "I am so sorry, my Lady."

"I am not angered by the fact she was committing adultery! I know my father is no saint." I gritted my teeth. "I am mad by the fact she lives a miserable life. In which she had to marry a man she does not love, and she wants to impose the same duty on me!" My hands reached my hair, fingers clutching it. "It is not fair for her to desire the same dull and cruel life for me!" Dylan kept quiet, allowing me to rant. "Why must not I experience falling in love with someone? I crave to be touched by adoring hands, not dirty ones that will not care about my desires and will expect for an heir to be conceived." I sighed. "I ache to live that romance until the day I die." I let my posture fall, whining. "Why cannot I be kissed by someone truly interested in me? Why cannot I be touched by someone who desi-."

My speech was interrupted as Dylan's hands rested on my cheeks. His lips were tightly pressed against mine. I have read how a kiss was mostly controlled by the fight of tongues, aspiring to be the dominant one. But this was just a simplistic kiss.

"Oh my-." His eyes widened as my mouth fell open. "I apologize for my behaviour. I do not know what came over my mind for me to-." My hands were now covering his cheeks as I bought him closer. My lips were awkwardly pressed against his. He separated from me, blinking dumbfoundedly. "Close your eyes." I did. "Open your mouth a little, my Lady." His thumb drew my lower lip downwards. As he got closer, I felt his tongue stroking my bottom lip.

My hands were pushed against his chest as I gripped his white shirt between my fingers. One of his hands had to wander to my lower back as my legs shook. His tongue was now grinding against mine, and not knowing what to do, I mimicked his actions. My mouth instinctively melted against his.

"You will be the death of me, my Lady." He held me closer. His right hand, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Literally."

The following day, I walked to the great hall, confident enough not to knock on the door before stepping inside. My mother seemed shocked to be interrupted by my presence, as she gripped the teacup tighter.

Harold wandered behind me, fear written all over his features as he had never seen me disrespecting my mother in such a way.

I gestured for the cello man to leave the room, which he quickly did, not even daring to glance at my mother. "How dare you to come inside in such a-."

"I will not get married." I interrupted her, something I have never done before. I had been informed by my brother that there was a powerful candidate for me to marry. A 52-year-old man. "I will not marry someone I do not love, and even less a 52-year-old King just for our countries to be at peace."

"You have no say on it."

"Mother, do you want me to live the same life as you?" I ventured to ask. "Do you want me to marry a man who will sleep with every servant or woman that crosses his way while my future children will have to suffer the consequences too? A boy that ought to follow the rules of a King until he becomes a tyrant. And a girl who ought to have to act as demanded. Merely for the young male of the family to be even more respected?"

"As I sai-."

"Will I be like you then, mother?" My lower lip trembled. "Will I be cold-hearted towards my children, towards my daughter? Will I have to submit her to the same shameful life as me?" I did not let Harold intervene. "Will I have to close my eyes to true love and consume my infatuation with the person I truly love in some dirty stable?" Both of them were shocked by my words. "You are preparing and forcing me to the life you both have. I do not want to hide from the public eye and keep the person I cherish a secret."

"If this is about that paint-."

"He has nothing to do with this." I did not appreciate the way she spoke about Dylan. "I have openly expressed my discomfort about marrying someone I do not love since I recollect. I understand romance books do not happen in real life. But love does, and marrying someone for my brother's throne is not love." I sighed. "It is not fair for us, women, to be treated like this while men are approached like that!"

She surprisingly glanced at me for a couple of seconds before her sober expression appeared once again. "Every King marries the women they choose. We cannot decide. Every King has bastard children." I had to remind myself that Alexander and Victoria were the children of one of our servants. "Even your brother is going to have a bastard child." I furrowed my eyebrows as it was the first time hearing that news. "Rosetta." A disgusted expression decorated my face.

"Well," I breathed deeply.  "Destiny can be changed." I recited the same words Dylan had told me once. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." I glimpse at Harold. "I am tired of not being the sailor of my ship." I softened my voice. "Think about it, mother. I will do everything in my power to get out of here, even if it means dying in the process." For the first time in my life, my teary eyes were met with the glistening tears that invaded my mother's eyes. "I will be in my chambers. Please do not bother me at all."

When arriving to my bedroom, I did not expect to see Dylan waiting inside. I locked the door behind me as my eyes examined his entire body.

"Are you all right, my Lady?" He showed the briefcase he was squeezing between his fingers. "Rosetta told me to wait here for you. Since we could not continue with the portrait this morning, I assumed that perhaps, we could tonight."

"Let's escape together." My mouth seemed to move on its own. However, Dylan stared at me with complete confusion decorating his features.

"My Lady, I do not think I understand what you are trying to imply." He knew.

"I have told you before I do not plan on marrying someone whom I do not love." I walked to my bed, sitting down on the mattress. "It has been decided without letting me know that I will get married to the King of Hiraeth."

He glanced down at the floor for a couple of seconds to later shift his gaze on my direction. "Perhaps he is not only a noble because of his blood. Perhaps he is also noble at heart."

"It does not matter if he is noble at heart or not," I answered decisively. "He is a 52 year-old-man! And as I said before, someone I do not love!"

He sighed. "My Lady," Resting his briefcase on the floor, he pulled a chair to sit in front of me. Though, he maintained the distance. "If I am not wrong, you have never met this man before. You might end up fallin-."

"Do not dare to say that!" I got up from the bed, eyes flickering. "Please, do not be like the rest of those who live in this palace! The first time you came here, you told me I could change my fate." He swallowed, nodding his head. "That is what I am trying to do." My hands were squeezing the skirts of my dress. "Please."

"I cannot take you anywhere, my Lady. You are the Princess of Onism. Everyone in town knows the beauty you behold." He coughed while deeply looking into my eyes. "I do not know anyone that will keep the secret of you being in to-."

"You are not understanding me, Dylan." I tried to ignore the way his body shivered every time my tongue and lips worked together to create his name. "I know I told you that I have never experienced love." I bit my lower lip, taking a breath. "I only know what I have read in books." He nodded his head, waiting for me to continue. "But I understand my feelings. Even before the day we kissed under the rain, I was already attracted to you."

"Attraction is something that can be felt many-."

I stepped closer, making him glance up. "It was attraction, I admit." Both of my hands navigated towards my back. "But my heart beats madly, whenever you are near me, whenever I glance at you or when I think about you." He got up from his chair, slightly stepping back. "I am utterly sure that I am in love with a man who worries about me and my feelings. Someone who has been encouraging me and that has seen my fears."

"My Lady," He gulped. "I truly feel honoured to be inside your mind and heart. I will not lie as I do also feel the same towards you." When I moved closer, he prevented me. "But you are a Princess, and I am just a simple man who paints in exchange for food and a roof." He blinked fastly. "I cannot give you the life you might expect." He offered me a side-smile. "And of course, our relationship would not be approved by the King and Queen." His voice turned softer. "Neither by the soon-to-be King of Onism."

"I do not care!"

"But I do, my Lady." He breathed deeply. "I do not want you to live a life where people will insult and degrade you plainly because you married a penniless man, or because you did not obey the established rules of the members of the royalty."

"I already have that life, where I am discredited just because I am a woman." This time when I stepped closer, he did not back away. "I already have to follow settled rules for the sake of my brother." My hands were still behind my back, and I finally decided to let them untie. He did not notice yet. "But now I have found someone who makes me feel something I have never experienced before." I sighed. "What did you do to me, Dylan?" He opened his mouth. "My mind and heart are full of you, and they constantly demand my body to be filled by you too."

His neck and cheeks turned red as he seemed to have difficulties while swallowing his spit. His eyes shifted around the room, trying to decide what to do. "My Lady," He sighed in desperation. His hands travelling through his body while he clenched it and gritted his teeth. "I truly have been trying to hold back." His hands now grazed his face. "I have been trying to hide how in love I am with you as I am just someone who does not deserve you."

"You are the man who deserves me the most." The shoulders of my dress fell, displaying my bare skin. His eyes widened even more. "And you do not have to hold back anymore." Finally, the cloth fell onto the ground. "I have read so many things, but I have never thought of experiencing them." I felt embarrassed by revealing such a matter. "I could not hold my hands from exploring my body for the first time as your image was in my mind."

"You did?" I nodded my head. His eyes had never left mine, not even to peer at my underwear. A rush of confidence seemed to hasten through him as he walked to the door, securing it. "Show me." My expression must have confused him. "Show me how you did it."

It was my turn to gulp as I got on my mattress, lying down on my back. I was slightly sitting thanks to the pillow, which granted me to discern Dylan as he shuffled closer to the end of the bed.

My bralette was already off, but his eyes still fixed on mine. "You can look." As soon as those words came out of my mouth, his eyes glanced down at my chest. It seemed like he had complications breathing.

My hands gently travelled down, gripping the sides of my underwear and slowly bringing them down my legs. The chilly air was a contrast of temperature to my entire body. I shifted my legs to completely discard my panties, which ended up someplace on the ground.

I permitted my fingers to touch the bundle of nerves, suffering a chill through my body that reminded me of that time in the bathtub, or the following times where I could not restrain my needs. Rubbing on circles, my other hand went to my mouth, biting on it not to make any sound.

"That is how you did it?" I nodded my head. "Until you exploded?" Again, I acknowledged with my head. "My Lady. Has any man touch you in such a way?" Shaking my head, he offered me a smile. "May I be the first one to do so?" I nodded my head, which he did not seem to like. "Please, use your words."

"I do," I did not hesitate. "I do want to be touched by you, Dylan."

"I might die right now, my Lady." He wandered closer. His hands slowly discarded his dark blue beret. Then, his fingers rapidly unbuttoned his white shirt, which had some dark little stains due to his paintings. His body was fit, enough to make a woman drool. I must say, he seemed broader than what I have imagined. "Have you ever introduced your fingers inside?"

I shook my head.

I hear the sound of his shoes falling to the ground as he kneeled on the end of the bed. His right hand moved my left hand from my clit, leading it to his hair. "Hold on tight, my Lady." Not sure of his next actions, I shivered as his breath hit my heated core. His tongue peeked out from his mouth, gently grazing my centre.

I gripped his soft hair between my fingers, making his gaze shift to look deep into my eyes. His tongue lapped, adding pressure on my clit. I whined as his tender tongue left my core to slid down and up a couple of times, extending my wetness all over my intimate part.

I was utterly surprised when the tip of his tongue ended up inside me, and he seemed to noticed as he grounded it against my walls. His right hand slowly left my thigh, where his grip had been tough. "I will be gentle." His whispers were almost unnoticeable as my moans were louder, feeling one of his warm fingers getting coated by my juices as he introduced it, inside my vagina. "Does it feel good?" Without waiting for an answer, he started thrusting it. His lapping tongue and his thrusting finger, producing a drooling combination.

"Oh my god," The candles that were lit, and resting on the table next to my bed seemed to flatter by a scene hotter than their flames. "Faster, please." I must not lie. Introducing his second finger on me had provided a slight pain. But seconds later, it had been replaced by an unbelievable pleasure. "Please do not make me beg."

"I would like to see you beg, my Lady." His mouth had left my clit, chin dripping with my fluids. "I would love to see you beg under the light of the candles while no one else knows that you are getting the love and passion you deserve." His fingers made a wet sound when they left my insides. I could not help but whine as he got farther from my body but became expectant when his fingers played with his belt.

As soon as he slid his pants down his legs, I could not help but moan again. There was a bulge between his legs, and I could not help but get flustered thinking about having him inside me. However, I was quite worried about his size as he already seemed thick through his pants.

I remembered a scene from a book where this girl had her first experience with her childhood friend. They had become lovers and decided to consume their love on top of the counter of the protagonist's kitchen. Her description of the scene was incredibly detailed. And even though my body had become more heated while reading it, I could not help but be worried when she described the experience as feeling as if she was getting 'ripped', which was quite vulgar but exciting in an unusual way.

I had been distracted by my thoughts, as to when I realized my rounds, Dylan's member was finally free. It stood tall and thick against his stomach. He could not help but contain his grin as I gasped.

"I never-."

"I know, my Lady." His hands grabbed my ankles, calmly making their way to my thighs, which he squeezed while separating my legs even more. "I am utterly happy to be the first and only man to make love to you." Uh? "I will take care of you for the rest of my life." His eyes looked deep into mine, asking for permission for his next movements and actions. Of course, I nodded.

He grabbed his shaft, his hand circling it while he thrust into his clenched fist a couple of times. He left if free, spitting on his hand to later grab his member again, lubricating it.

"I am a little scared," I confessed, shifting my gaze to his face. "You are so thick and long. H-How is that supposed to fit inside-."

"We can stop if you want, my Lady." One of his thumbs caressed one of my thighs. "There is no rush and enough time to do this whenever you feel ready."

"I do want to do it! I am just a little scared." I gulped, glancing down at his member. "Could you maybe go slowly?"

He nodded his head, getting closer and placing a peck on my lips. "Whatever you wish for, my Lady." Asking for permission again, he waited until it was granted, for the tip of his member to graze the lips of my vagina. "Here I go." He started adding pressure. Until the entire tip was inside, making me gasp. "Sh, breathe." His right hand went to my tummy, caressing it. "We can go slower."

I nodded my head as I took deep breaths, ignoring the tears that were falling from the corner of my eyes. A couple of minutes went by when I decided that the pain had become a pleasure. I shifted my hips toward Dylan. I was right as there was only pleasure. "Dylan, please," I whined. "Please move."

His entire member was inside me, and Dylan's thrusts had become steady and swift. His mouth was travelling from my jaw to my lips, sometimes stopping to ask for my well-being.

One of his hands left my hips, going between our bodies as he started circling my clit, adding more pleasure. "Oh my gosh," I raised my voice, not being able to hold back the incredible feeling. "Lord, please go faster." I circled my legs around his hips, bringing him closer if it was possible. His member, hitting places that it could not reach before. Wails of satisfaction came out of my mouth. "Please, fuck me harder."

He seemed quite shocked by my choice of words as his eyes widened. But he had seemed to enjoy them too, as his thrusts became even faster and sloppier. "I will not last long." He groaned, not afraid of expressing his pleasure while his lips grazed my ear. "I have been dreaming of this for so long." His moans made my entire body shiver. His right hand, circling my clit even faster. "Please, my Lady. Tell me you are close. Please."

"I am!" I drowned my screams while biting his shoulder. "I am so close." His left hand travelled to my left nipple, toying with it. The different stimulations, getting me dizzy while my vision became blurry. And I came undone under Dylan's body.

Reading was nothing like experiencing it.

My breath was laborious. Dylan stayed inside, thrusting a couple of times more until he quickly came out, thrusting in his clenched fist. He was going to finish soon. His eyes, questioning where to explode. My hands went to my breasts, holding them together.

Dylan's eyes widened as he understood what I was implying. He moved, his hips getting closer as his dick ended up being embraced by my breasts. I held them in place while he thrust, moaning at the contact. His tip, hitting my chin and lower lip. He did not last much longer, exploding and cumming all over my chin and lower lip.

He gasped, our bodies full of sweat. "I made a mess. I am so sorry, my L-." My tongue peeked out of my mouth, licking some of the cum that was resting on my lower lip. "I-. Oh, gosh." His lips settled up against mine. His tongue, parting my lips so his tongue could slowly dance against mine. "Did it feel good?"

"It felt amazing." I was still trying to breathe at a regular pace.

He kissed my forehead, leaving the bed and wandering to the bathroom. His member was still lightly hard. But he quickly gave me the view of his butt.

When he came back, he was gripping a towel. Sitting on the side of the bed, he slowly cleaned his release from my chin and chest. Then, folding it, he cleaned between my legs. He was cautious, trying not to hurt me as my entire body was sensitive. Next, he discarded the towel.

His body fell on the bed next to mine. We both gazed into each other's eyes with foolish smiles decorating our faces. "I do not want to leave. But night curfew will be soon."

"I do not care." I wrapped my sore body against him, breathing in. "Stay here. Nobody will know. You can leave early in the morning." I did not notice I was pouting until his lips pecked mine. Then, the rest of the night was a cuddling blur as exhaustion took over our bodies.

Another couple of days had gone by, and it was nearly impossible to keep our hands for ourselves. Dylan had been sleeping in my chambers, which was difficult to hide. I had been ignoring my mother and Harold as much as possible. And thankfully, my brother was away in a political meeting with my father. We had also continued the portrait sessions, which sometimes ended with our bodies full of paint as we could not hold back for holding each other.

I must confess that there had been sexual escapes around the palace, which was a surprise, as we did not get caught yet. Momentarily, Dylan's boxers were around his ankles like his pants as I was grabbing the skirts of my dress.

My face and chest were pressed against the wall of a tiny room while he thrust in me from behind. "Ah, we will get caught." He whispered but did not stop his movements. "You are going to be the death of me, my Lady."

We had been walking around the castle until I could not hold back myself anymore. I took Dylan's hand, going inside a tiny room that, it is used, for cleaning materials. Therefore, we were fucking as fast as we could, aiming for a release. "Please, go deeper!"

"I believe I am as immersed as I can, my Lady." The sound of our skin slapping against each other turned both of us on even more.

We both were close to our release. But we were rudely interrupted by the door of the room opening, showing Rosetta and Harold, who stared at us with surprise written all over their faces.

Dylan quickly came out of me, pulling his boxers and pants up while I let the skirts of my dress fall.

"Harold," I started. "Please, do not say anything." My eyes begged. "Could you please give us five minutes and wait in my chambers?" Without saying anything, they closed the door. "Oh my god."

"It is okay, my Lady." Fear was visible in his face and voice.

I was baffled as when entering my chambers, my mother was there, next to Harold. He ignored my gaze, staring deep into Dylan's eyes.

"Mother-."

"I told you!" She did not hesitate to raise her voice. "I know you did not choose to be a princess, but this is what we have to deal with." I could not protest. "I am not trying to make you miserable. I was trying to avoid a situation like this where this young man," Surprisingly, she did not glare at the young man next to me, who was squeezing my hand. "And you will be in danger!" She sighed. "Imagine if it was your father or brother finding you two! They arrived early this morning!" I did not know about their arrival. "He would have killed him and make you watch." I gasped, getting teary. "I did not want you guys to end as I did."

"What?" I asked while being overwhelmed by confusion.

"Your mother," Harold decided to spoke as my mother had to seat on the end of my bed, trying to calm herself. "She fell in love with a servant of this palace, way before you were born." Dylan and I were pretty interested in the story. "You do not choose who you love, my Lady." He shifted his gaze between the two of us. "However, keeping such a secret was complicated. And eventually, someone found out." His hand rested on my mother's back. "Unfortunately, the one that discovered them passionately kissing in the gardens was your father." I gulped while swaying closer to Dylan, searching for his warmth. "He executed him right there, in front of your mother."

"Those white roses used to be red." My mother's voice shook while she referred to those planted in our garden. "It was so repulsive to see that his blood mattered nothing when for me mattered the world. He was my world." She offered us a sad smile. "No one mourned for his loss except me. His body was taken away by other servants in uncaring behaviour. His blood could not be seen, because it had splattered on the flowers that had the same tone." She wept, trying to breathe and calm herself to continue. "It was as if he had never existed. I thought I had gone crazy, and I had imagined the love and the man that I desired to have."

"Mother," My eyes were teary. "I am so sorry that happened to you, and now, I understand you tried to protect me." I glimpsed at Harold for a couple of seconds. "But this is just throwing me into a deeper hole. I will end up in a similar situation to yours, and my children will be doomed, to the same cruel fate." I was desperate. "Mother, destiny can be changed." Dylan was looking at me, a tiny smile on his face while he rubbed one of my freezing hands.

"I have seen you grow up," Harold intervened. "I have learnt every one of your moves, understanding when you wanted to cry or laugh." He grinned, crossing his arms. "Deep inside, I knew one day you would want to fight from the established and dull life you are supposed to live."

"He spoke to me." My mother continued. "Harold opened my eyes, and he taught me to perceive that you were falling in love with this young man." She bowed at Dylan, and he returned the same gesture. "And I perceived that this young man was falling in love with you too."

"Your father and brother lied of their whereabouts." Harold stepped closer. "They bought with them a visitor."

My mother shifted closer to us. "It is the King of Hiraeth." She gulped. "The 52 year-old-man that they expect to marry you with."

"No," I shook my head. "Please, mother." I could not stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. "Please, mother. Do not let them do that. Please. Please." Before I could fall to my knees, my mother held her hand up, offering me a brown bag.

"It is yours now." My mother replied, sliding the bag into my hands. "This will help both of you." Money, there was a lot of gold inside the bag. Dylan was looking inside the container with wide eyes as I did. "If I had stolen money from your father, he would have noticed. Therefore, I bargained my jewellery." Her hand unconsciously went to her neck, and I noticed her diamond necklace missing.

"Here," Harold extended his arm, offering us a piece of paper. Dylan clutched it. It was a map. "That black circle is your shared property. It is a near kingdom, not too far from here but enough for you two to be safe and not be recognized, as the Princess of Onism."

"What?" My mouth was agape.

"It is Elysian. It is a small town full of life, and it is secure." Harold explained with a smile. "It is your new home. The money will help you guys for a couple of years, but of course, my Lady, you will have to get used to a life without servants and luxuries. However, I do not have any doubt that you will be able to adapt to such a life."

"Then," I glanced at my mother. "You are helping me escape?"

"I am helping both of you leave." She cried. "I am helping you get out of the life you did not choose and the one you do not desire." I turned around to stare at Dylan, who had tears running down his cheeks while smiling at me. He shyly pecked my forehead. He wiped his tears while bowing again, staying in that position for a couple of seconds. "No, no, please stand up." He did. "We are family now. Please take care of my little girl."

"I will, your highness." His words sounded so confident that it made my heart beat violently.

"W-What about you two?" I glanced between them. "Are you coming with us?" I was expectant to hear their answer.

My mother shook her head. "We did change our destiny." She referred to the present situation. "Do not worry about us."

"But-."

"My Lady," Harold took me into his arms, embracing me. "Escaping is more complex for us. But do not worry, because we will end up getting away from here. One day, we will." He smiled at me. "For now, Arden is prepared to take you both far from Onism tonight."

I nodded my head. "Take care of my mother, and thank you for being like a father to me." After squeezing him, I quickly hugged my mother. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Before they left my room, my mum turned around. "Dylan is your name, right?" He nodded his head. "I viewed the portrait. It looks marvellous. Take it with you." He was perplexed. "The portrait was for the man that will marry her. That man is you, so that portrait belongs to you."

"I bought gifts!" I overheard two squeals, rolling my eyes with a foolish smile, adorning my features. Two tiny figures ran to the owner of the voice. "Perhaps you both only love me when I bring presents."

"Perhaps they do." I walked closer to the man, whose beautiful smile was aimed, at me. My right hand gripped his arm, a signal for him to lower his head so I could peck his lips. "Welcome home. I made your favourite dish." My lips had trapped his bottom one between mines for a couple of seconds, making him whine lowly.

He seemed to be dumbfounded while pecking my lips a couple of times until our children interrupted the moment with their excitement to know what their father had brought them. "Well," He chuckled. "I bought my little princess this!" He took a stuffed animal from his coffee-coloured bag. Charlotte squealed and giggled while running around the room with her new plaything. "And I bought my not-so-little prince," He remembered how our little boy did not want to be named as a child anymore. "This." He showed him a new brand book, which cover was of a dark blue with golden touches.

Thomas could not help but grin. "This book was printed a couple of days ago! Thank you so much, father!" He tightly hugged his dad. "Perhaps I could bring it with me to the Addington's home?" He could not help but jump around due to his excitement. "I believe Newt will love it too!"

Dylan nodded his head. "Take care fo your sister, please."

The Addington's were a young family of five that lived next door. We were constantly inviting each other over to our homes, wanting the kids to play together. We, the adults, were also mates. A couple of times, we babysit each other's kids to have privacy with our respective partners.

As soon as the kids were out of the door, Dylan's briefcase had fallen to the ground. He had been away for an entire week due to a commission of a portrait where he would earn a lot of money.

His hands were caressing my entire body as we both tried to make our way to our shared chamber, in hopes of continuing the passion there. "I have missed you so much, my Princess."

My fingers moved quickly, trying to untie the dress I was wearing. My hands were sweaty, and Dylan must have noticed as he ended up unlacing my attire. "I am not a Princess anymore."

He swallowed, eyes focused on my breasts as I was not wearing a bralette. Both of his warm hands slid up, cupping my bosom. His fingers grazed my nipples while his entire hands squeezed the rest. "You are right." His gaze shifted to my lips. "You are the queen of my heart now, my Lady." That name had stayed since the very beginning, and every time it came rolling gently out of his lips, my undergarments got drenched.

"I will explode right here, Dylan." I moaned as my hands were busy sliding down his pants while he worked on his jacket and shirt. "I have missed having you around. And being around you."

He groaned, slipping one of his hands behind my back as he squeezed my buttocks. I whined when he pinched it. "You seem to be so desperate for me."

"That smirk," I grinned while kissing his bottom lip. "Perhaps you are as desperate as me." I glanced down as I spotted his hard bulge against my front.

"I am not as needy as you are, my Lady." The last word was said sensually, making my legs shake.

"I am sure you are as needy as me, Sir." It was that word for him. I could feel the temperature of his body rising.

"What does my queen require from such a humble servant?" He acted while sprawling my body down on the bed. His hands, gripping the sides of my panties, bringing the down and discarding them. "Maybe she needs help down here?" One of his fingers ran up and down, collecting my fluids. He did not hesitate to bring that finger into his mouth, savouring it. "My Lady, perhaps I should confess that you taste like Heaven, itself."

His face leaned closer to my core, but I immediately stopped him. He glimpsed at me, confused. "I want to be the one giving you as much pleasure as possible." Sitting down on the bed, my hands pushed against his chest until he was the one lying on his back.

I questioned myself when he had taken his boxers off as his member sprang free, hitting his tummy. Pre-cum was decorating his pink tip while sometimes, you could see it palpitating as the veins were tightening.

My right hand started working immediately, grabbing his shaft while going up and down. I softly squeezed it as his arm rested on top of his forehead, blissfully. My thumb stayed on the tip, playing with the tiny drops of pre-cum.

"Gosh, are you an angel?" His words wavered as my left hand cupped his balls, lightly tugging on them. "My Lady, I need your mouth, please." I attended his demands, my left hand still playing with his balls.

However, my mouth was also sucking on the lowest part of his member. Licking my way up, my mouth embraced the tip of his dick. His hands went through my hair, settling on grasping it forcefully and guiding me down until his entire thick member was inside my mouth.

His moans got louder as his hips could not hold back, shifting upwards, choking me as his tip scraped the back of my throat. "My Lady." Glancing upwards, I could see the sweat falling down his forehead. His entire body was sweating, especially the part of his chest with a spot of hair.

I sucked harder, preventing my teeth from grazing his delicate member. "May I come inside your mouth, my Lady?" Humming against his dick, he seemed to understand my permission. A couple of hard thrusts that chocked me and he was cumming down my throat, spilling a big load. His breath was laborious as his hands caressed my hair back. "Please, ride me."

He whined when his member lost the warmth of my mouth as I shifted my body to position myself on top of him. My left hand was resting against his chest. My other hand, grabbing his still firm member. "May I?" He nodded his head. As soon as he was filling me up, both of us became a moaning mess. "Ah, I felt so empty without your dick inside me."

His hands instantly clutched my hips as he encouraged me to bounce on top him. "You look so ravishing while you bounce on my dick." I moaned, loving his dirty talk. "I could do this every day. I love how your breasts bounce while you are getting stretched by my dick." He gulped. "They have got even bigger after you had our beautiful children." His right hand slapped my ass. "Listen," I ceased my moans as I heard the slapping sounds of our skins. "You are so wet for me, my Lady. Your pussy demands to hold my dick."

Both of my hands were now resting against his chest. "I am going to explode." The hand that was on my ass moved to the front, flicking my clitoris. "You fill me up so good, Sir!"

"I will fill you even more soon." He groaned, sitting down so he could move me closer to my body. Our mouths, touching in an open kiss. "I am going to release my entire load inside you. I am going to impregnate you, my Lady." I moaned. "You want that, right?" His thrusts became sloppier and harder. "You want to get filled and carry another gorgeous baby." I nodded my head. "You are as irresistible while pregnant. The way you cannot keep your hands to yourself. The way your bosom gets even bigger."

"Please, fill me."

No more words needed to be said as our teeth clattered against each other, riding our highs together. My vision got blurry, and my moans louder as I felt all of his huge load filling me up. "Oh, fuck me, my Lady. You take my load so good." The rest was full of kisses and warm under the sheets. His member had softened inside me.

On one of the walls of our chambers, there was a portrait of my younger self. She resembled grave and upset. Her composture seemed forced, but around her body, there were flames. Sparks that represented the passion she badly wanted to share. The adventures she wanted to live. There was a yellow light, which seemed, to be connected to her heart.

Dylan had described a young lady who aspired to live a passionate life. A young woman whose heart and mind were full of hope.

There was a lovely detail on the portrait. On the wall behind the young girl, there was a mirror, where you could perceive a young Dylan, examining the woman before him with a peculiar shining light on his eyes. The identical light young Y/N had while looking at Dylan O'Brien, the humble painter who shared the 'fictional' love she always wanted to experience.The love they both found and fancied.

Yes, destiny could be changed.

.

.

Those who asked to be tagged. Thank you for showing interest: 

@og-baby-ob14​ - @sweetest-serpent01​ - @tovvaa​ - @jazminebrightxx​ - @sonnydoesrandomshit​ - @badgyal-barbie​ - @trustfundparker​ - @blueraindrops​ 

[peppermintbee]

OMORI has poor writing (Part 1)

OMORI stans, just block the #omori hate tag now because I’m going to use it to vent my frustrations with this game. If you love this game, I am not going to try to convince you otherwise. I am glad you enjoyed it so much. I am glad it means a lot to you. I’m not here to take that away from you. I honestly wish I felt the same way!

However, if you are like me and finished the game feeling disappointed, underwhelmed, and maybe a little frustrated, then I am here to say you are not alone. OMORI--while having the right set pieces for an interesting game--is a narrative mess.

I’m splitting this into two posts. This first post is about problems with the plot. The second is about problems with the message/moral. 

(Note: I use “OMORI” in all-caps for the game title, and “Omori” in title case for the character name.)

Spoilers and criticism below.

Part 1: Plot Writing Lies

There’s a book by Brian McDonald called Invisible Ink which is about how to write a compelling story (you can read this great book online for free here). There’s an explanation of the writing “lie” that I find myself frequently thinking of. A “lie” in this context does not mean something is literally untrue, it means something FEELS untrue, unrealistic, improbable, or unlikely. For example, if a character gets shot in the leg but manages to do parkour, this is a “lie” since it seems unrealistic for that to happen. If a character witnesses their beloved parent’s death and shrugs it off, it’s a “lie” because that reaction seems highly unlikely.

In OMORI, the plot is held together by multiple little lies that--try as I might--I just couldn’t bring myself to believe.

1. Sunny’s friends care about him, and vice versa

A major theme of the game is how friendship can overcome any obstacle. Friendship gets Sunny over his fear of heights, spiders, and water. Friendship is what Sunny remembers before the final boss fight, and allows him to face his guilt and defeat it (and prevent him from committing suicide). With the photobook and dialogue you are reminded over and over and over and over and over again that Sunny’s friends love him unconditionally.

However, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe it. The childhood memories are cute but shallow, boiling down to simply hanging out and eating treats. Plus, Kel and Aubrey fight constantly, with Aubrey even physically hitting Kel when he steps out of line. Hero and Mari behave more like babysitters than true friends to the younger kids. 

But at least the other kids interact with each other. Sunny, on the other hand, showed nearly no affection or consideration towards his friends. He floats through the memories like a ghost--he could have been completely absent from all the photos and it would have made little difference. I was ready to accept this as Sunny being an unreliable narrator and not thinking he was a good enough for his friends, but this never contradicted. Instead we are given even more memories where Sunny just silently exists there being “cute.”

[Sunny enriching the lives of his friends by LARPING as a cat.]

Because of the lack of meaningful interactions between them, there was nothing in the game that made me think that these 12-15 year olds would have a strong enough bond that would survive 3-4 years of no contact after finding their friend hanged. In fact, that discovery only drove them farther apart. The only person who I could believe actually had a close bond was Basil, who almost literally filled that trope of being the friend who would help you bury a body (or in this case, help Sunny cover up the accidental manslaughter).

The writing fix for this would be simple: instead of showing us the same boring birthday and beach scenes over again, give the kids memories of overcoming some age-appropriate adversity together: heartbreak over an unrequited crush, anxiety over homework, sports injury, lost dogs, divorced parents, running away from home, bullying, etc. Set a precedent of the friends supporting each other through good times AND bad times. Without such backstory, Sunny’s friendships allegedly giving him the courage to overcome his guilt feels like a lie.

2. Sunny abandoning Basil in the bathroom scene

One of the most confusing moments in the game was Sunny’s negligence when Basil has his first breakdown in his bathroom. This part of the game is player-controlled, which is a strange writing decision because all you can do is click on Basil and various bathroom amenities over and over which completely saps the urgency out of the scene. When you try to leave, Basil begs Sunny to stay, but (due to a lack of player options) Sunny walks out without a word. With no option to talk to him OR get help for him, it makes Sunny seem exceptionally cruel to Basil. In fact, I was starting to wonder if the game was setting up for some sort of twist that Sunny DIDN’T care about his friends, which would fix some of the confusion in point #1. However, as we know, that is not the case. Therefore, Sunny’s negligence/apathy towards Basil’s pain feels like a lie.

The writing fix would be to make it MORE clear that Sunny is intentionally running away from Basil. Make it a cutscene, or, give a false choice such as “Leave Basil? Yes / Yes”. After Sunny leaves, Kel should make some remark about Sunny looking odd, “You look sort of shaken up, is there something you want to tell me?” then hit it home with Sunny shaking his head. This would make it more clear that Sunny is intentionally hiding Basil’s state, as opposed to just being a bad friend. As it stands, it just felt like a writing mistake.

3. Basil and Sunny working together to stage Mari’s death as a suicide

This is the plot hole that I see the most complaints over, but it’s so big I have to address it. Accidentally pushing Mari down the stairs I understand, but the rest is too absurd. Below are some of the “lies” that the writing tries to get away with:

That Sunny and Basil wouldn’t just claim she slipped and fell.

That either boy would even come up with this sick plan.

That they wouldn’t back out of this idea during the multi-step process (carrying her downstairs, outside, getting the jump rope, tying a noose, putting it around her neck, stringing her up, hiding the evidence... This is a series of multiple decisions, not one quick accident like the initial push.)

That it’s not the image of Mari’s death that traumatized Sunny, but the image of what they chose to do to her body that traumatized them. I understand the image of Mari hanging is more dramatic, but they literally did it themselves so why is that more haunting than Sunny killing her?

That Mari’s true cause of death wouldn’t be immediately obvious to the parents, the police, the friends, EVERYONE. (I’ve seen fans try to get rid of this plot hole by hypothesizing that the parents knew and covered it up, but the evidence of this is circumstantial at best. The father saying, “You’re not my son,” is unreliable since it happens in Sunny’s headspace. Divorce is common after the death of a child, and, at the very least, Sunny’s mom doesn’t show any evidence of knowing what happened. The way it is written, only Sunny and Basil know the truth.)

The ridiculousness of this twist is so extreme that it completely broke any immersion I had left. Frankly, the reveal that the happy, loveable Mari committed suicide is a far heavier and more realistic twist than a crazy murder-cover-up story is.

Additionally, it seems like Basil was only written into this scene in order to make Sunny the true victim of what happened. After all, Sunny may have pushed her, but it was Basil who came up with the demented cover up. (This is apparent from just the photos but the datamined Truth Album confirms it.) By having Basil come up with the plan, the game splits the guilt between the two of them to make the kids easier to sympathize with. It’s problematic because if Basil was not in the scene, there would be no way to justify what Sunny did to Mari. So why is what they did easier to accept when they worked together?

Fixing the writing lie: Sunny lies and says that Mari slipped. Remove Basil from the scene, and instead have Sunny confide in Basil which forces Basil to become a co-conspirator and burdens him with the terrible truth.

4. Sunny’s friends forgiving him and Basil for what they did to Mari

Last but not least, the story heavily implies that Hero, Kel, and Aubrey will forgive Basil and Sunny for what they did to Mari. I found this to be almost as unbelievable as the staged-suicide stunt.

It feels like a lie since the group’s friendship is never established as anything beyond shallow hang outs from 3+ years ago (see point #1).

It feels like a lie because this is hot off the heels of Aubrey being so distraught over Mari and the following fall out that in the last three days she 1.) attacked Sunny and Kel with a nail bat TWICE, 2.) Stole Basil’s photobook, and 3.) Shoved Basil in the lake. This trauma is still very fresh for her.

It feels like a lie because the complexity of the staged-suicide is so extreme, one would be hard pressed to forgive ANYONE for doing that, be it friend, foe, parent, sibling, lover, etc.

I’ve seen fans argue that the ending is not about forgiveness, it’s about telling the truth, and I want to believe that. Really. If the ending was about Sunny starting his redemption arc by telling the truth no matter what the consequences are, that would be a meaningful lesson. But the writing does not support that. The ending headspace segments are focused on assuring Sunny that his friends will support/forgive him no matter what. To do this, the game shows us the shallow photobook memories (again) to show how much they allegedly care about each other. Then, when fighting Omori, Sunny remembers these quotes from his friends, which directly correlate to their unconditional support:

KEL: Friends... Friends are supposed to be there for each other.

AUBREY: I hope you can find some peace... or you know... some happiness.

HERO: We made the mistake of leaving each other when we needed each other the most. This time... we’ll stay together.

BASIL: Maybe one day... things can go back to the way they were before.

The really direct evidence that this ending is about getting forgiveness is this quote from Basil in Sunny’s headspace:

[BASIL: “AUBREY, KEL and HERO are good friends. You have to trust that they’ll forgive us.”]

This is one of the last scenes before Sunny tells his friends the truth, proving that obtaining forgiveness from his FRIENDS is in fact the leading motivation for Sunny’s actions.

Fixing this writing lie is easy. Instead, adjust the writing to be about telling the truth, not about how much the friends will still love Sunny. Have headspace Basil say, “Even if they don’t forgive us, Aubrey, Kel, and Hero deserve to know the truth. It’s the only way to make things right... or close to it.”

Conclusion

OMORI is undeniably a cute game with a strong visual identity, and has a premise that could make for a very compelling experience. However, the sloppy plot and weak character writing cause the potential of this game to be squandered. There are other issues as well that I chose not to cover for the sake of time, such as the poor pacing of the dragged out dungeons and the bizarre, unrealistic behavior of characters in the “real” world. 

However, there are a few more glaring problems with OMORI that I have to address: In part 2 of my critique, I break down what may be the biggest problem with OMORI’s writing: the message.

[ Link to Part 2: OMORI’s Message is Mishandled and Distasteful ]

[quietmyfearswith]

their love language ; preferences

warnings — fluff (?) couple of swear words

characters — andy barber, steve rogers, jake jensen, bucky barnes, carter baizen, lance tucker, syverson, will shaw (cold light of day), august walker

a/n — just something i put together lmao asks are open for anything

with their little

masterlist

andy barber — physical touch and words of affirmation

It wasn’t unusual that Andy brought home work; but more often than not concerning. Not only was he overworking himself, but it also led him to doubt and question his own capabilities. And Y/N knew when these unwanted thoughts would start to plague Andy’s mind and she knew just how to prevent them from affecting him severely. Creeping up behind him, she placed her hands on his shoulders giving him a massage he didn’t know his body was begging for. “How you doing, handsome?” she asked sweetly as she placed a small kiss on the back of his ear. Turning his head slightly so he could reciprocate the kiss but on her hand, “Making slow but significant progress.” She hummed, moving her fingers from his shoulders and to his temples she tried to rub off the stress that seemed to have its epicenter at his forehead. “Well all that was possible because of you, angel, you and that big brain of yours.” Andy grabbed both her hands and turned to her; she knew what was gonna happen next — he was gonna argue with what she said and instead claim that he wasn’t that good and he could have done it quicker or done more. But before he even had a chance to do so, she slanted her lips on his to shut him up. “I’m gonna shut you up with a kiss every time you talk shit about yourself,” the man’s entire body vibrated with laughter as turned his chair around to face Y/N and grabbed her so she sat down on his lap, “In that case we might be kissing for a long time, love.”

august walker — acts of service

August’s dedication wasn’t only limited to his work; but also to his beloved Y/N. He’d like to think that the reason that he exposed himself to the dangers of the world is so that he could guarantee her safety. But on the instances wherein he wasn’t on a mission and instead was back home with her, he never missed out on an opportunity to make her feel safe and loved. Since he was having downtime from a mission, he took it upon himself to bring you to work and pick you up. It didn’t matter if it was out of his way or he had a busy day, it was something he loved to do. He loved having one hand on the steering wheel and the other on her warm thigh; just like how they were right now following her departure from her work. “I noticed how your laundry was piling up, so I washed it already. Also found the missing sock you were whining about last week,” Y/N looked at August and decided to tease him as she jokingly accused him, “I knew it! You hid it somewhere in our home.” His hand that was comfortably resting on her thigh left its place and went for her sides, tickling her. Hearing her giggles, made him boyishly smile, “That’s not what happened, missy. I was cleaning the house — because you were whining about how cluttered and messy it was getting and you didn’t have the time to clean it up — and somehow found that fuzzy sock of yours in the kitchen.” Upon learning what her man was up to, she was shocked and teased him more by saying, “Are you sure you should be a CIA agent and not a house cleaner? Seems like it’s one thing you absolutely love to do.” placing his hand back on her thigh, August rubbed her thigh warmly as he spoke, “Only for you love, I’ll do anything for you.”

bucky barnes — words of affirmation

For the majority of his life, he was used to hearing gruesome and morbid orders that were tasked for him to carry out. He was so used to hearing yells and harsh voices ringing in his ears; but now since he was free from their abusive hold, he didn’t have to hear the same sounds again. “Wakey wakey sleeping beauty,” was whispered into his ear, snapping him out of his sleeping state. Turning over, he looked at Y/N and smiled, “Are you sure I’m sleeping beauty and not you?” She just chuckled at his rebuttal as she laid her head on his chest and looked up at him, “I’m sure it’s you who’s the sleeping beauty I mean have you seen this face?” She took note  as she ran her finger through his sculpted face, “Jawline that can cut deep, lips that are soft and delectable, eyes that are extremely expressive.” She then let her hand go down to where his heart was and delicately traced over it as she further explained, “And of course, what’s inside of you takes the cake of what makes you the sleeping beauty; a caring nature, compassionate to others, wit that is incomparable, and has so much love to give.” The super soldier could feel his heart swell double its  current size with how comforting and heartfelt her compliment was. Grateful tears threatened to leave his eyes as she placed a chaste kiss on his chest and assured him, “Everything about you is beautiful, Bucky.”

jake jensen — quality time

“Are you free this Saturday?” Jake asked as he directed his focus from the computer to his girlfriend as she placed a mug of coffee on his working table. Curious and hopeful eyes were behind the lensed frame, hoping she would say that she was available. Leaning against his desk she crossed her arms and gave him a mocking look, “Depends on who’s asking and why,” but the puppy of man just grabbed at her forearms and pouted. “Please baby? I was hoping you’d be down for laser tag? Or if you don’t want to do that maybe we can watch a movie?” Y/N could not help but coo at how adorable her boyfriend looked; for a man who was part of the army he was too much of a softie. He despised having to be away from home for missions since he was always aching to spend time with you — and it didn’t really matter to him what it was you two were doing you could be museum-hopping, hiking, having a movie marathon, or just cuddling in bed. Which explains as to why he was inquiring whether or not you were available to spend time with him; leaning down to kiss his forehead, Y/N decided to put him out of his misery, “Yes love, I’m free on Saturday, we can go out for laser tag.” Standing up from where he was sitting down he excitedly wrapped his arms around the woman who was now laughing at how she mimicked the elation of a child. “Thank you, baby, can’t wait to kick your ass then.”

syverson — physical touch and quality time

Having been home from a deployment, it felt odd for Sy to not wake up when the sun was barely up or to not be squished with other men in a small space. Feeling movement in the bed where he lay, he quickly opened both his eyes and looked at the source of it. “Come back,” he groggily mumbled as he pulled Y/N closer and buried his face on her neck. “What if there’s somewhere I need to be, bear?” It was a surprise when she felt him whine, this alpha of a man whined at the thought of having to be away with his girlfriend. “I am gonna have to lock you inside the house, I just came back and there’s no way I’m gonna let you out until we’ve made up for lost time.” As she played with his short hair she pressed a kiss on the side of his forehead, “Good thing I have the week off then, huh?” his head shot up from her neck and looked at her excitedly, “No shit, baby? I get you all to myself for the whole week?” Nodding she busied her fingers again by running it through his buzz cut hair again. Feeling his thick arms wrap around her, she could feel the happiness and contentment resonate through his whole body. “I’m not letting you out of my hold, let alone my sight — I’m gonna need you all close to me and we’re gonna do everything together.”

lance tucker — physical touch

Having been involved in gymnastics at a young age, Lance’s hands were calloused and rough due to vigorous training. This then led him to be quite insecure and apprehensive when it came to physical contact with others, especially with someone he loves; for he fears they might run off once they feel the rough texture of his hands. Coming home from a long day filled with coaching he slumped down on the couch and took a deep breath. His muscles ached and it was starting to reach the point where it bothered him. “Hey bub, you just got home?” Y/N appeared from the kitchen and sat down beside the gymnast. As if on instinct, Lance laid his head on her lap and started to move his face around — as if it was a cat begging to be pet. Chuckling she did play with his hair with one hand while the other held on to his one hand. Letting out a satisfied hum he then began to vaguely recount his day, “Long day of coaching, switching up styles, correcting postures.” At the brief recount Y/N could feel how Lance tensed up and wanted to help him out hence why she offered, “How ‘bout you lie here and let me get that lavender oil you love? Then I can give the god of gymnastics a massage.” his eyes lit up and immediately lifted his head off her comfortable lap and laid down on his stomach as he tiredly mumbled, “Thank you baby, you’re massages are the best and I love your gentle touch.”

steve rogers — acts of service

Since retiring, Steve found himself comforted by having a routine. And much of his routine involves the things he does for Y/N — the love of his life. After finishing his morning run around the neighborhood, he immediately prepares coffee and sets out to cook breakfast. Upon padding down the stairs of their shared home, Y/N smiles at the sight of Steve placing the bacon, egg, and toast on two plates. “Good morning, honey,” she greeted him with a kiss on his lips. “Breakfast for my love,” he said as he placed a plate in front of her and slid to the seat opposite from where she was. “You have a busy day ahead of you, right?” She hummed in response to his question as she took a sip of the coffee he made, “Well I went to the gas station and made sure you had a full tank; I also prepared you your favorite lunch,” he pointed to the small lunch bag he bought her a few months back upon learning she would sometimes not have enough time to buy lunch if she had a busy day from work; so he took it upon himself to prepare lunch for her everyday. Placing her mug down, she held one of his hands in her own and looked at him fondly, “You spoil me too much; I think I’m getting too dependent on you.” Lifting her hand to his lips, he placed a few gentle kisses in the back of her palm and spoke sincerely, “I wouldn’t mind that at all, doll.”

carter baizen — receiving gifts

Luxurious and designer brands were something that Carter always had. It didn’t matter what kind of item it was — clothes, shoes, car, appliance, or electronics — but it was guaranteed that Carter had that object through the most expensive brand they had. So it was a surprise not only to Y/N, but also to Carter himself about how excited and touched he was every time the former gave him a gift. “Carter, I’m home!” Her yell seemed to bounce off the walls of his penthouse; one that was merely a living space but was turned into a warm and comforting home once she stepped foot in it, and in his life as well. “Hey, how was Canada?” he asked as he was seated on the sectional couch and patted for the spot beside him. Taking up on his offer she sat beside him as she placed a paper bag in his lap, “It was great! And I got this for you.” smiling, he thanked her for the gift and opened the bag as he pulled out the stuffed moose that was inside it, “A moose?” She nodded her head excitedly, “Well I don’t know, it just reminded me of you. Like you both have this cold and hard exterior; but really you both are softies,” she ended her explanation with a nervous giggle, fear settling in that Carter didn’t really like the gift. But as if he could read her thoughts he eased her nervousness with a smile and booped her nose, “Well it’s the best gift anyone has ever given me; so thank you, princess.” she sighed dramatically and leaned her back against his chest, and he wraps his arms around you and laughs at her silly antics. “That’s what you always say every time I give you something.” Holding the moose with one hand he shook it around as he talked in a silly voice, as if mimicking a cartoon character, “Well that’s because I do love everything you give me.”

will shaw — words of affirmation

In his pursuit of establishing himself as a businessman and entrepreneur, Will has heard a fair share of rejections and bad news. In fact he was so used to hearing these that it was quite rare and refreshing for him to hear reminders of positivity; and it wasn’t until Y/N came into his life and served to be the breath of fresh air for Will. Hanging up the phone call, Will let out an exasperated sigh and loosened the tie on his neck. Despite being successful in securing a meeting with potential business partners, he felt defeated as it took too much time and effort. The ringtone of his phone made him roll his eyes; though he did pick the phone up and answer the call without looking at the caller ID. “Yes, Mr. Scott?” Instead of the husky voice he was just talking to, it was instead the sweet voice of his girlfriend as she teased him, “Not a Mr. Scott, but should I be worried that you might like him more than me?” Upon hearing her voice he chuckled and shook his head, “No babe, there’s only you.” She laughed as well but despite that she was worried about him, “You alright, babe? Have you eaten?” Sitting up straight, he briefed her on what has happened so far, “Yeah I had a salad earlier. But guess what? I have a meeting with Mr. Scott, and if things go well they’re gonna be our business partners.” Her excited squeal made him excited as well, “That’s great babe! I told you that there was no need to doubt your presentation and skill!” Placing his hand on his chin, “I think you’re being too confident in me, babe” he sighed. “Well how could I not?” she said as she began listing off the qualities she admired about him, “You always get back up despite how many times you’ve fallen down, you’re determined to achieve what you want and will do all means to do so, and of course have you seen how good-looking you are? Mr. Scott would be an idiot to say no to that pretty face.” Her last remark had him roaring with laughter and shook his head at his silliness, “Oh babe, you do know how to boost someone’s confidence huh?”

[bjornswoman]

Blue piercing eyes

Requested by none.

Author's note: Hey guys! I hope each one of you is alright. I want to thank yoy again for your support, that means a lot for me. Especially, now that I am getting through a difficult period time. Also, sorry for any mistakes. Thank you for reading this!

Pairing: Modern!Bjorn x Reader.

Genre: Modern!au, romance, drama, angst.

Summary: You and Bjorn reunite again after two painful months.

Warnings: Jealousy.

You tried to live a peaceful life, away from him and the drama of his world, that followed him everywhere. Wherever he was, the placed ended up destroyed. You even left your home, you left Denmark and moved somewhere else, thinking that he wouldn't find you. You had reached Spain to find your peace, but Bjorn Lothbrok was stubborn and he would do anything to take you back. The reason you left wasn't because you didn't love him. You loved him with every last piece of you. Your heart was beating only for him and the fact that you were apart, teared it off, but you couldn't do nothing else.

He had warned you that his job was his top priority and all the matters that happened into it. You didn't care, at first, but that changed when be spent more and more time away from you, because of business. Of course, business included being close to attracting women. You knew how Bjorn could get when he was close to a hot woman, he couldn't handle himself. He loved you, he really did and you knew that, but that was his weak spot. He was the perfect man. He was a successful businessman, a good looking man and an even better lover, you knew too well how to satisfy a woman. He was a father, he loved his children, he had told you that and even if he didn't, you would see it in his eyes. He loved them deeply, but he didn't really know how to express it, because his own father had never really gotten to tell him. He just taught him how to be the successful heir of his company. He kept saying that he regretted for not being in their lives, you told him that never was late, but, as the stubborn man he was, he didn't listen, he thought that he had lost any chance.

The things between you got bad and then worse when he met your boss. You were working in a well-known law firm. Actually, he had already known him, obviously. Bjorn Lothbrok knew literally everyone in this country and everyone knew him. After all, his family was the richest one in Denmark. The name Lothbrok was known all over the world and many famous businessmen craved a deal with them. Your boss, Mr Jones, was a womanizer, as well as your beloved boyfriend. He was hitting on you non-stop not knowing about your relationship with Bjorn, but even when he learned, he kept doing that. His flirting was the reason of the fights that destroyed you. He spoke harsh words, just to harm you, and you did the same and then your relationship ended.

After all that, you knew that you had to leave from Denmark. Ubbe, his younger brother, told that be was a mess and that he wouldn't let things this way. You wanted to be with him, but all that drama and you being never something serious for him, you decided that it your time to leave Denmark. Ubbe warned you that he would chase after you, but you were sure that you would make it to hide yourself from him and maybe, when he had forgotten you, you would return to your home and restart everything.

Now, after two months, you had settled down. You had a new job and made some new friends. You even managed to go on a date with some man. His name was Olaf, luckily, he was from Sweden. Maria, one of new friends, was working in the same company with him. She was the one whi insisted that you should date someone and you did. At first, you didn't like the idea of going out with someone that wasn't Bjorn Lothbrok, but, when you got to know Olaf, you liked spending time with him. He wasn't Bjorn, but no one would be, you had to move on, as you were sure that he did.

The only problem was that he didn't move on, because you loved you. He couldn't even lay with another woman. Yes, Bjorn Lothbrok couldn't lay with another because of you. Every single time he saw your figure everywhere in the room. He even tried to not be in a room to claim a woman, but you were still around there. He couldn't even imagine that he would feel something like that towards a woman, but there he was, feeling helpless. He tried to find you all this time and when he did, the deal with that Spanish men seemed the best option. They were pain in his ass for a whole year and now they were lucky that Madrid was where you decided to hide yourself, but nothing could be hidden from Bjorn Lothbrok.

"Stop! Please, I can't! It's..... my belly is hurting! Olaf, please you need to stop!" You tried to say within your laughter. You couldn't stop laughing. All night he was telling you some of some ridiculously funny jokes, you couldn't stop laughing. He was smiling at you. He liked you and tried to make him feel more comfortable when you were together, that's why he started saying that jokes. He wanted you to open up.

You couldn't do that. You needed to fully trust him before you started sharing private stuff about you with him. It wasn't like Bjorn. When you were with him you felt comfortable, that had been happening since your first actual date. Now with Olaf, it was different. Maria said that it was normal, because you hadn't been on a date with anyone, except Bjorn, but you didn't feel like it.

Olaf continued saying his jokes, but it wasn't funny anymore. Your laughter died when you saw Bjorn entering that same restaurant. His hand was wrapped around a woman's waist. She looked like a doll, probably she was a model. He didn't look at you neither once. Olaf looked at you confused. You had totally forgotten about him for a moment, but his voice took you back there on your table.

"Is-is everything all right?" He asked looking where you were looking before. He couldn't understand what was happening. "Do you-do you know that man?" He asked again and you coughed. You didn't want to lie to him, but that seemed the only solution at that moment.

"Well, not really. He just seemed familiar to me, but I don't really know him." You lied and he smiled at you again. Your eyes found their way to Bjorn again. This time they made contact with his blue piercing eyes. He didn't looked at you for long. His gaze returned to that woman. You tried to concentrate on what Olaf were saying. Your mind, as well as your heart, was on Bjorn and that blond woman who reminded you of Barbie.

"As I told you before, the company I work for is goimg to deal with some company of Denmark and--" His words made you look at him. He just said company of Denmark, you heard that clear. He was here because of a deal. Then what was this woman doing here, next to your man? Technically, he wasn't your man, not anymore, but you cared.

"You just said company of Denmark, didn't you?" You tried not to yell and you succeeded, only because you didn't want Bjorn to understand, but he did and that was why he smirked. Literally, this man could hear anything, even a cat walking. Olaf nodded and you run your hand through your hair. "Do you-do you know how the CEO of that company is called? Actually, is his name Bjorn Lothbrok?" You whispered and he frowned. He was completely confused. Firstly, he didn't know why you bothered and secondly, he couldn't understand why you were whispering.

"I think so." He spoke and you smiked. Now he was completely lost. He couldn't understand you. "Are you okay, (Y/N)? Do you want ys to leave, you know to continue our night somewhere else?" He asked and you thought about it for a while. If you left now, you wouldn't be close enough to watching him and if you stayed, you would be close enough, but you would be caught up for sure because you couldn't stop staring at them. Leaving was the right thing to do, you didn't want him to thinking that you were staying tgere vecause of him. But if you left, you wouldn't know were he was. That didn't really mattered. A voice inside your hears was yelling at you that you would meet him again.

"I am fine, but I do think that we should leave. I know were we should go. It's funnier there." You spoke and grabbed your jacket. He stood up and a wide smile covered his face. Bjorn wasn't as happy as Olaf. You had succeeded. You glanced at him. You was glaring at you. You smiled to yourself and left.

The fact that Bjorn was enraged because of you made you happy, but that woman with him didn't. You were almost sure that he had moved on, but if he had, why would he be angry with you dating another man? You needed answers and only Bjorn could give them to you, but you were sure that he wasn't willing to give them and even if you was, you wouldn't dare to ask for them. You could imagine that smirk on his face and that drove you crazy.

You were jealous, so much jealous that you couldn't control your thoughts, but you had no right to be. You had found another man and he did the same. You had to be happy for him. Whatever happened between you, wasn't meant to last. Maybe that way was better, but that didn't make it less painful. It hurt seeing him with another woman.

On the other hand, he was enraged. He tried to control his anger and not beat that man to death. That wouldn't help your relationship at all, but he couldn't see him make you laugh or hold your hand, like he used to do. Actually, he had never really held your hand. His hand had always been wrapped around your waist. He was possessive and that movement meant to show to every other man who wanted you, that you were his. He had totally forgotten about the blonde doll with him, but she made sure to remember him. She cleared her throat, but still he didn't seem to care for her. She sighed deep.

"Bjorn!" She whispered yelled and he looked at her frowned. She smiled at him and he looked back at you. You and that prick had stood up and probably were going to leave this place.

He hadn't picked this place randomly, he had learned about you dating this man and even that this place was where you going most of the times. So he wouldn't miss the chance to encounter with you here. He thought that all this would be less painful, but it wasn't. He even managed to bring Stella. She was a model, they met somewhere he couldn't reacall. She was just a friend. Yes, Bjorn Lothbrok had friends that were female. She was one of them. After all, she wasn't interested in any man.

Your eyes locked with his dark angry blue before you make your way out of that place. If eyes killed, you would be dead. Everyone would be dead inside that place.

You started walking with Olaf by your side. No one of you really talked. You were thinking about Bjorn. He looked more beautiful than before. His beard, that you loved so much, had grew much longer and his hair was shorter and that blue eyes that you missed so much. You could sense that something was bothering Olaf, as well, but Bjorn was the only thing you could think.

"There something in your mind that's bothering you, I can sense it you know and I think that it has to do with that man from earlier in the restaurant." Olaf spoke and you turned your face and looked at him. You didn't want to lie to him. He didn't deserve all of this. He was a funny and good guy. He deserved a woman who cared about him truly and loved him, not you. All you could think about, all you cared about was Bjorn. You were stil in love with him. Actually, you had never stopped. You couldn't stop.

You turned your gaze down on the ground. You weren't proud for that. You didn't want to hurt him. He deserved to know the truth. He was nothing but good and fair to you all this time. He didn't even make any move to lay with you. He respected you, because he had understood that something bothered you.

"There is something that's bothering me and yes, it has to do with him. His name is Bjorn and he is my ex." You said in stable tone of voice.

"Bjorn as Bjorn Lothbrok?" He asked, trying to join the pieces together. You nodded at him and he frowned. Now all made sense. He was the man Maria told him about. He told him that you had broken up with your boyfriend and that was the reason you came to Madrid. You lived in Denmark and Bjorn lived there too. Also, Maria told him that you tried to get away from that man. It all made sense. He was famous and powerful. "And you? I mean, do you still love him?" He asked, but you didn't really answered. He knew the answer himself. He could see it in your eyes. When you looked at him in the restaurant, he saw a gleam in your eyes, something that he hadn't seen inside there before. It hurt him, because he liked you, but he couldn't make you love him or even like him. If Bjorn was the man who could make you happy, he would ve happy as well. People said that if you love someone, you let him go. That was what he was going to do.

"I have never stopped loving him. You are a good guy, you truly are. But for me there is only Bjorn. My Gods have decided that I am made to love him, but we can't be together, things between us are complicated. Sorry, if that hurts, but I can't stop it. I wanted to forget about him and be with you. I tried, but I can't control my feelings." You spoke and your eyes teared up. What you said was the truth. It was upon you these feelings, you didn't have the power to banish them. Your tears were streaming insanely from you eyes. You couldn't even control that.

"I understand you. That kind of love is difficult, if not impossible, to die. If you are happy because of him, I am happy, as well. Just not cry. You have nothing to be sorry about. It's your feelings, you can't change them. I really like you, yeah, and I want to fight for you, but I know that I will lose." He said and stopped walking, you stopped, as well. His hands cupped your hand and his thumbs wiped away your tears. "You shouldn't cry. That eyes aren't made for crying. Don't let him leave, (Y/N). You are suffering without and he is suffering too. Actually, he probably wants to kill me. His eyes were throwing daggers to me. I am lucky because eyes can't kill." He said and you smiled. He was so sweet. He even tried to make you smile after all this.

"His piercing blue eyes can kill you know." You said and both of you laughed. After a small conversation, he left. You sat on a bench and looked at the starry night sky. Madrid was busy at night. People were laughing and having fun. You were watching them having fun in a try to forget about your own thoughts, but that seemed impossible. Bjorn were always there, inside your mind, haunting your thoughts. You would never find the peace you wanted, because there is no peace when you are away from only person you care so much about. You would only find your peace by his side, but even there the problems would exist.

A very familiar scent invaded in your nostrils. You lifted your gaze and saw his face. He sat down next to you and for a moment or so no one of you really talked. You were just watching the busy streats. You were sure that he could listen your heart pounding inside your chest. You were together after two whole months and your skin was burning. Your hearts couldn't stop beating so fast. You were sure that if it continued to beat like that, it would be ripped off your chest. You turned to look at him, he was looking at you. Blue piercing eyes met with yours and they stayed there.

"Were is your..... friend?" He said playfully and took a cigarette out of his pocket. He placed it on his lips and light it up. You watched every single movement of his. "Do you want one?" He offered yiu cigarette and you took it. He seemed surprised by this, because you didn't really smoke before. He light it up for you and you inhaled the smoke and then exhaled. Now he was watching your movements. "I thought you hate smoking." He continued and you turned again to him.

"Yes, I hated it, but I guess I have adopted bad habits since I came here. As for Olaf, he probably went to his home or somewhere else. He is a good guy, but not for me." You said and looked back at the street. You exhaled the smoke before you start talking again. "What about your friend?" You asked, trying to sound like you didn't care, but in fact you did. You wanted to ask why he was here, sitting next to you, when he could ve somewhere with that blonde doll, you saw him with, but you were a coward. He smiled. He had succeeded, you were jealous.

"Probably somewhere with her girlfriend." He answered and you looked at him frowned. You couldn't understand. He threw away his cigarette and moved closer to you. You did the same. His hands cupped your face and he looked deep in your eyes. "You were crying. You know that I hate it when you cry." He whispered and his thumbs caressed your cheeks. You closed your eyes for a moment.

"Why did you come here, Bjorn? Don't tell about some stupid deal, I won't believe it." You said and he sighed.

"I came for you, (Y/N). I thought I was fine when you left, that I didn't need you. I was angry with you for leaving me, but I didn't want to admit it. I tried to lay with some women, but you were always there, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I need you. I-I..... love you." He confessed and you tears fell from your eyes again. His thumbs on your cheeks wiped them away. "Come back home." He whispered and you closed your eyes again.

"I tried to forget about you, to start a new life here away from my old one, I even found a man that wasn't you, but nothing seemed to work out, because of my mind. You were, you are always inside there haunting my thoughts. I don't really sleep, you eyes don't let me. Earlier today, I told Olaf about us and he understood. He told me not to let you leave. He even told me that I am suffering when I am not with you and I am not going to deny it. I love you too much to bear living without you, Bjorn." You whispered and he smirked, but not for long. His lips pressed on yours, in a fierce and rough kiss. He was biting you hungrily within the kiss. You loved it. You loved all the marks that he left to your body each time, hickeys, scratches, bites, bruises, you were used to that. He gripped your body firmly, he didn't mean to harm you. He was just getting too much exciting about this and he couldn't handle himself. He hurt you sometimes because of his size and his fast pace, but you liked it. At first it was a little painful, but then it was only pleasure.

When you stopped kissing, you looked at his eyes again. All this was like a dream. He smiled at you and you did the same. He didn't smile often. Most of the times he was angry and his eyebrows were knitted, because of anger.

"So this means that you are coming back." He said and you nodded.

Your relationship didn't work out at first, but it would in the future. Everything would be different after this night. After all this time you were apart, he knew that he needed you, that he loved you. He had loved other woman before, but no one of them made him feel this way. What he felt for you wasn't something that he could handle or control. He liked being in control and that drove him crazy. He would try to be the right man for you. He wanted to be ans he would.

[artxyra]

What if Damian and the miraculous class are friends and they have movie nights, but since Damian is in Gotham he sneaks out of the manor and portal via Max & Kalki to participate. The Fam get suspicious and try to figure out where Damian is going every week. When they find out he goes to Paris they try to follow him but the portal closes and they use the tubes instead. They end up crashing in on them watching a horror movie which freaks the class out. Insert yelling and things being thrown.

To: Demon From: Angel

Are we still on for movie night?

To: Angel From: Demon

Yes. Just need to get away from the family.

To: Demon From: Angel

😀

Marinette looks over smiling from her phone. Today is a good day. There were no akuma that needed Ladybug’s attention, nor had she broken up a fight between Max and Kim about the latest game. So yes, she was ecstatic to know this is how her day is going.

“Hey Mars, is Damian coming tonight?” Adrien asks seating next to her playing with a strand of his hair. Ever since he came out to her, their relationship has blossomed beyond a crush to a blooming brother-sister relationship. That and Luka were more than willing to take on the blonde without a second thought. She kind of feels bad for Juleka having to see Adrien on a near-daily basis and with her brother no doubt.

“Yup,” Marinette continues to smile, “I just received word that he’s good to go. All we need is for Kaalki and Max to open up a portal at the designated time.”

“Sweet, I hear that Kim was the one picking out this week’s movie. I hope it’s nothing horror-related.” Adrien pouts causing Marinette to laugh that the poor kitty’s face.

“I’m sure it’s nothing too crazy.” Marinette hopes that it was something simple to follow and an action pack rather than horror. She may love horror games but kwami be damn if she watches a horror movie in the dark that wasn’t comedic.

“It looks like break is almost over, we’ll continue you this later.” Adrien sends Marinette a comforting smile before jumping down into his assigned seat next to Nino. Alya and Nino just walked in holding hands.

“Hey, lovebirds, who’s ready for a night full of fun?” Alya greets the two causing them to roll their eyes at the nickname that no longer pertains to them.

“Hey Als, I should be asking you that instead.” Marinette lifts an eyebrow that accompanies her smirk. Nino and Alya’s faces turn red and they side glance each other. Marinette and Adrien laugh at the couple.

“After class, I’ll be giving a quick speech regarding tonight’s plans,” Marinette states pulling out her classwork and books for class. They all nod in understanding. Just then the rest of the class filed in with matching smiles and asking pertaining to tonight’s activities.

To: Angel From: Demon

Save me from the idiots that I call my brothers?

To: Demon From: Angel

Can’t love, I’m sure it not that bad.

To: Angel From: Demon

For some idiotic reason, they are watching me like a hawk today. I’m currently in the bathroom with the doors locked listening to them bicker outside.

To: Demon From: Angel

Yikes 😬. I’m sure it will die down before you’re required to leave.

To: Angel From: Demon

I doubt that.

To: Demon From: Angel

About that, why did we move our weekly movie night from Saturday to Friday?

To: Angel From: Demon

It’s a half-day at school.

Shit. Talk to you later.

Marinette places her phone down and slowly turns her attention to Mme. Bustier. The red-haired teacher tried to keep her students engaged with the content, but she was losing them faster than on average. Marinette turns to her classmates. Alix and Kim were trying to out strength each other, Juleka and Rose was trying to pay attention but the drooping in Rose’s eyes say otherwise, Sabrina and Chloe—well doing what they usually do—living in their own bubble, Nathaniel was sketching something down in his notebook while Max was pretending to take notes as Markov does it for him. Finally, Mylene and Ivan were also in their own world.

Hours seemed to past in Marinette’s mind before Mme. Bustier concluded today’s lesson. She was so caught up in watching the time that she didn’t realize that was sketching an outfit in her own notebook. Whoops.

“Marinette is there something you would like to add?” Mme. Bustier prompts sending the class’s designated designer a smile.

“Yes,” Marinette gets up from her seat and walks down to the podium. “Tonight is our weekly movie night instead of tomorrow. Do you remember what to bring? If not, please message me before the event. Remember that we are having this event at Chloe’s family’s hotel as it a makeshift theatre room.”

“Daddy says we can have the popcorn maker also.” Chloe interrupts. The class cheers at the thought of the infamous popcorn maker that was usually locked behind the hotel kitchen doors.

“Thank you, Bee, for that tidbit. Now, Max, you are to arrive at the bakery no later than six o’clock. The demon is having a half-day today and I’m ninety-nine percent sure that he’ll want to be here no later than that. Everyone else, you are free to do.” With that and a pretend gavel, Marinette dismisses the class to their next class for the day. 

For Damian, being at school felt like a blessing even if it was a half-day. His brothers have been hounding him all morning. It’s like they are looking for something that isn’t there. Damian’s emotions? Yeah right, they all know he only shows emotions to his beloved animals or animals in general. Damian had to double, triple check the security on his phones because who knows what Drake would find if he had access inside it.

For over six months, he had been going to Paris for movie nights with his beloved and her classmates. At first, he had done it through the zeta tubes but after gaining their trust just enough to be in on the Miraculous Team of Paris, his trips became a lot more frequent. He would make up an excuse about going to a classmate, or Jon’s, house for the night, or to work on a school project. He had gotten away with it for a while, but Tim was the first to notice the lie.

Tim and Conner were having their usually meet up when the Damian had told his family that he was spending time at Jon’s, something that was no unusual. All was fine and dandy until Jon came home with a Damian Wayne. Tim, well it was mainly Dick, had grilled into the young hero about Damian’s whereabouts. Jon either lied or literally had no idea. Which prompted the Batbros to start the search on Damian's weekly disappearance.

Everyone took the day off to “spend time” with Damian. They wanted to trap the teen inside the manor and watch his every movement. Like that isn’t an invasion of privacy or trust.

Alfred brought Damian to the manor around noon. This gives them enough time to hide any open-source of weaponry they could find or items that Damian could use against them in battle. That was a lot of items on the list. Dick inquired for Bruce to hold off on the tracking device as a last resort. He wanted to start everything out with a discussion, but Jason laughs that idea out the window as he cleans his guns.

“The young master is residing in his bedroom,” Alfred speaks walking down into the Batcave.

The Wayne family knew this was it.

To: Angel From: Demon

I’m ready.

To: Demon From: Angel

ETA in 5

Damian smirks at his phone. He loves his girlfriend and how quickly she can manage an entire group of classmates and plan a weekly movie night event.

He had packed his belonging that he usually brings with him when he does to Paris. Which isn’t much.

Four minutes.

Damian thought his ears were playing tricks on him, but they weren’t. He could hear the stampede of footsteps that were no doubt from his family members aside from Alfred. Alfred’s footsteps are like a ghost, you never hear them.

Three minutes.

“Hey little D, since you had a half-day today, why don’t you spend it with us,” Grayson asks the second his bedroom door swings open. Alfred the cat sends a glare to his owner’s family.

“Yeah, Demon spawn, we all took the day off to spend time with you,” Jason adds gas to the fire that was already burning intensely.

“Damian…” Not his father too.

Two minutes.

Damian doesn’t say a word. His eyes bounce from one person to the next and repeat. He didn’t know who to answer them. “Tt.” Was the only word? Sound? That had escaped his lips.

“You need to leave like now.” Damian refuses to have his family find out the very secret he had kept hidden for so long. His quick need for them leaving only pushes them to stay. Worried about various reasons from teen problems to joining the League of Assassins again. They didn’t want to take any chances.

One minute.

Damian could sense the user of the horse kwami becoming active. Soon a blue swirling portal opens up behind Damian. Damian looks at his family and side glances at the portal. The portal wins. The family of vigilantes runs to the portal only for it to close.

“Am I hallucinating or did that just happen?” Tim asks wiping the sleep away from his eyes.

“No, replacement, that really just happened.” Jason states. Tim nods in understanding.

“I’ll do track him down.” Dick sulks at the thought that Bruce was right.

It didn’t take long for the results to come in.

“Uh…so how the hell is the Demon in Paris, France of all places?” Jason shouts from behind his older brother and Bruce.

“The swirling portal thingy?” Tim states the obvious, but it sounded more like a question as he sits down and drinks a cup of coffee.

“Boys we’re going to Paris.”  Bruce states over his sons. From afar, Alfred sighs and goes to prepare the zeta tubes with the destination in mind.

“Uh, civvies or uniform?” Dick asks as they all start to make their way to the zeta tube. This was one of those questions that they linger on for a hot minute.

Before they knew it, Damian had gained an hour over his family.

“It doesn’t matter, we need to know where the little demon has been hiding all this time.” Jason screeches talking over to the zeta tube and teleporting to the location.

Bruce turns to the remainder of his sons who shrugged and follow suit.

Entering Paris, they were further from Damian’s location than anticipated. They follow the tracker with some interruptions. Dick wanted to buy something for Kori, Jason wanted food and Tim needed for coffee. After all that was done, they officially made it to the supposed location of Damian’s whereabouts.

“Why would the little demon at a hotel?”

“Hum, this coffee is really good,” Tim says before taking another sip.

“Boys, focus on the mission.”

“I am focus, Bruce.”

“I didn’t say you were, Dick.”

“Touché.” Dick rubs the back of his arm.  

They enter Le Grand Paris with tensions high and were surprised by how calm and relax the employees were. Jason swears this was just a hoax and they were torturing Damian behind one of these doors. An employee asks them if they are in need of anything. Bruce states that they were looking for his son.

“Is he friends with Chloe and her classmates?” The employee asks.

“Who?” Dick and Bruce ask simultaneously. Jason had dragged Tim off somewhere to look at some things.

The employee eyes the family skeptically.

“Well if he’s not friends with Mlle. Bourgeois, then I suggest heading to the police department and report a missing child.” The employee states before walking away. Bruce sighs and pulls out the tracking device. Damian is so close to them.

“We’re going to find him, right?”

“And drag the brat back to Gotham?”

Bruce in the direction that would be location, he gestures for his children to follow.

Damian was having a blast. In his arms, Marinette sat on his arm clinging to his shirt cursing Kim’s name throughout the film. Kim had chosen a horror movie for tonight’s showing and by kwami it was fantastic. There was no comedic relief, actual horror storytelling leaving the class on the edge of their seats.

Adrien was curled next to Marinette in Luka’s arms. He was also clinging to a body, a certain musician as if he was a frightened kitten.

Just as the MC was about to open the door to the attic, a series of figures jump from the ceiling. Screams in real-life match those within the movie. Popcorn, empty cartons of candy, soda drinks are thrown at the figures. A string of curses follows not long after that.

“Damian, tell your friends to stop.” He knows that voice from anywhere, it was Grayson’s voice. Marinette slides herself off himself.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He screeches in English. Most of the class didn’t have a clue what was being said.

“We wanted to see where you were?”

“We thought you were kidnapped?”

“I just came for the scenery.”

Damian’s eyes twitch.

“That’s nice and all, but can you move? We’re trying to watch a movie here and you’re ruining it.” Chloe stands up demanding the bat-family to move. They all look to one another before subtly moving away from the screen.

Damian places a quick kiss on Marinette’s cheek and guides his family out of the room. He was not happy that they came in ruining his night with Marinette. Now he has to make up for it with something romantic, not that he’ll do it anyway.

“What made you believe that I was kidnapped?” He asks, the second they were out of the room.

“The portal thingy.”

“You not answering any of our questions.”

Damian breathes through his nose. “You’re all idiots.”

“Well movie night is a bust, but we all agree to stay here to continue rather than going home.” Marinette walks into the hall after a moment of them talking—well it was more of a screaming match between Bruce and Damian with some input from Dick. “Will your family be fine without you for a couple more hours?”

“Habibti, these dunces are my family,” Damian states gesturing to his family,

Marinette nods, “Well then, hello, and can we keep Damian for the night?”

Damian walks over to Marinette and wraps his arms around her. “I’ll return from before it’s nightfall in Gotham, father.”

“Uh, sure. Boys lets go.” Bruce accepts the came and walks down the hall. Before either of the brothers could pester Damian about this newfound relationship, Bruce gave them all the bat-glare and demanded that they follow.

“You know you’re going to get pestered, right.” Marinette laughs.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Come on, we have a movie to finish.”

With that, Damian takes Marinette’s hand and walks back into the room.  

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[mimisempai]

A Purrfect love

Summary:

The life of Sam and Bucky as told through the Alpine's eyes.

🌈 Happy Pride month ! 🌈

To celebrate, 1 day, 1 story.

Be ready for smiles, laugh, fluff, tooth rotthing fluff, positive vibes and a lot of love!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31818871

1185 words - Rating G

Alpine awoke to the familiar sound of the kitchen cupboard doors opening and closing.

She quietly stood up, stretched her front legs, her back legs, arched her back and then walked to the kitchen.

She passed the door and purring went to rub the legs of her master.

"Haha, there you are, little rascal."

Her master bent down to her and scratched her behind the ears.

He whispered, "We mustn't make any noise, Sam is tired so we'll let him sleep a little longer ok?"

She gave a little meow.

Her master stood up while talking, he was talking to himself or to her, she didn't know and even though she couldn't answer she liked the sound of his voice.

She liked the sound because it was different now. Her master sounded happy all the time.

She remembered when they were in the other house, he almost never smiled.

"No... no..."

It was another one of those nights.

Without opening her eyes, Alpine already knew that she would be alone in her master's bed.

She also knew not to approach him because he wouldn't notice her, and once he had almost dropped her.

So since then, when Alpine heard her master screaming, she would wait for him to wake up, sitting wisely on the doorstep of the living room.

When her instincts told her that it was okay, she would slowly move towards him.

She'd give him a little nudge with her head, meaning 'hey I'm here'.

Usually, her master would scratch her between the ears before taking her in his arms.

They would stay together like that until his shaking stopped.

Then he would take her into the bedroom and gently lay her on the bed before going to bed.

Once he was comfortable, Alpine would lie against him on the covers and purr softly until she felt his breathing become regular again.

Thankfully, those nights were now a bad memory.

She hopped onto a seat next to the kitchen counter where her master was cooking.

"Wait a little bit chipie ok? I'll make breakfast for Sam and then I'll give you your favorite food."

Since he had moved to a new home, his master had been smiling almost all the time.

Though the smile he had right now was special, it was the smile he had whenever his master's companion walked into the room, or whenever he thought about him like now.

Alpine loved her new home, she was allowed to go out whenever she wanted, her master's companion had even built her a special little door, on the door of their home for that.

People were nice around their new home.

There was always someone to pet her, children to play with her, dockworkers to give her fish.

People commented on her passing and had made her realize how much her owners were loved.

"Oh that's Alpine, she's Bucky and Sam's cat."

"Awww, she's sweet. You know you are lucky Alpine. Sam and Bucky are the best owners you could have had."

"But I hear she was Bucky's cat before he came to live here."

"Hihihi you mean before he came to move in with Sam. They are so cute those two. Bucky who is getting hearts in his eyes whenever we talk about Sam, Sam who can't help touching him when they're in the same place."

"You're right, I'm sure the whole neighborhood knew they were in love before they knew it themselves. Hahaha!"

"Anyway I'm glad Sam has someone to lean on. They're both good guys."

Oh that, Alpine knew.

Even when he was alone before, his master had always taken good care of her, even when he was too tired or hurt, he always had a pat, a kind word for her or her favorite snack.

Since they had come here, she had seen that her master's companion was also a good person.

In addition to his little door, he had prepared a cozy basket for her in the corner of the living room. He had put a soft blue blanket in the bottom of the basket and said, "You see baby girl, this blanket was Bucky's, so as now, he does not need it anymore, I put it here, so you will have something familiar in this new house.

So yes, Alpine knew that these two masters were good people.

Her master had just served her some food and some fresh water.

"Here you go sweetie. Now I'm going to bring Sam his breakfast."

Alpine quietly enjoyed her own breakfast. Then she took a few sips of water before heading to the living room.

Something she also liked about their new home was the light, it was always warm and bright. She climbed onto the couch to lie down in the exact spot where the sun was shining. She enjoyed the warmth and took a nap.

When she woke up a little later, seeing that her masters were still not up, she jumped off the couch and headed for their room. As she approached, she heard voices that became more and more distinct.

It was the voice of her master's companion who was saying, "Bucky, you always get up to make me breakfast when I'm off duty, but you know you don't have to."

"I know that babe, but let me take care of you a little. Besides I like it. You wouldn't want to deprive me of my little pleasure would you?"

"Who knew my future husband was so sweet."

"What?"

Her master's shout made Alpine stop in the doorway of the two men's room.

She heard her master's voice again, "Sam, don't joke about this."

"You think I'm joking?"

Alpine moved forward a little and jumped onto the foot of the bed.

Her master's companion made a small sign towards her, "Alpine, just in time you are going to be my best man, wait my best woman in fact."

Alpine didn't quite understand the meaning of these words, but she approached her master's companion. He turned, rummaged in his bedside table and pulled out a small red box which he opened and raised in front of his master.

"Will you marry me?"

The little box fell in front of Alpine, and a small, shiny, golden ring fell out of it as his master threw himself in his companion's arms and said, "Yes, doll, of course I will!"

Alpine gazed at the little box for a moment and pushed the little ring to her master with the tip of her muzzle. Then she gave two little meows to make herself noticed.

"Oh Alpine…you are such a good girl."

Her master took the ring with his metal hand and put it on one finger of his other hand before picking up Alpine, placing her on his lap.

He stroked her head a few times before putting his own head on the shoulder of his companion who was watching them with a gentle smile.

She settled comfortably under their two joined hands.

The last thing she saw before falling asleep was the special smile of her beloved master.

________

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

[potassium-pilot]

Prompt 20: Petrichor

I’m in over my head, he thought, I know nothing of the Convocation other than what I learned in school; my creations seem so minimal compared to the Emet-Selch; they’re all taller than I am- I know height has nothing to do with it, but it’s still intimidating. Am I truly worthy of the seat of Elidibus? Am I really the Emissary?

“Do you smell that, young Elidibus?”

He turned his head behind him and noticed a woman. One of the members of the Convocation he met, but which one?

“Y-you’re…the Azem, is that correct?”

“I am, just like you are the brand new Elidibus. Now, do you smell that?”

Elidibus stared down at his lunch that he chose to eat outside on the steps at the back of the Bureau. “Oh…if the scent of my lunch offends, I apologize…”

“Your lunch neither offends my senses, nor is it what I’m referring to, Elidibus. We’ve had a dry period for some time, have we not?”

The weather was far from his mind, but he answered, “Yes, I…think so. Why?” Azem sat down next to the young one and replied with yet another question, “Have you ever noticed that scent that comes before rain after it hasn’t rained for so long?”

Why is she asking me this, he thought. Is this a test? “Uh…no, not really.”

“Hm. You should, young one. One of the gods put in quite a bit of work into making the rain as pleasant as possible. It adds a spice to life to notice the small things.”

He gathered a strange first impression of the Azem, but decided to take a whiff of the air, try to gather what she means. To his surprise, there was indeed a difference. “It’s…sort of earthy…”

“You’re right. It’s a pleasant smell to me, although some have their preferences.”

Elidibus took a moment and asked, “Is this some advice for how to deal with the Convocation?” Azem chuckled with her mouth closed, then responded, “No, friend, I’m just making conversation. You seemed so nervous in there.” Never had he felt more grateful for his red mask as he blushed at the thought that someone would notice such a thing. “The first day is odd, isn’t it?” she asked him.

“I don’t know about odd…but I must admit, I feel a bit…” he didn’t want to finish, but the phrase he was avoiding was ‘out of place”.

“Wanna know a secret about the Emet-Selch?”

That piqued his curiosity. “Uh…will that be all right?”

“Sure, so long as you keep it between the three of us.” Elidibus nodded at the agreement. He watched a wry smile form on the Convocation member’s face. “He’s a sucker for strawberry candy, and he bugs me to bring some home every time I leave Amaurot on my missions.”

His eyes widened at the thought. “Really?” She nodded. “He’ll deny it, but he’s obsessed with it.” Elidibus made a thoughtful hum. “Now what do you like?”

“Me?” he pointed to himself.

“Is there someone else here?”

“N-no…I…” he felt confused as to why she would care, making him hesitate. “I…I like that one concept, that card game…”

“Ah, you’re a gambling man. I see… you and I will need to play one night. I’ll show you some of the cheap tactics I picked up on my travels. You can help me clean out my friend, Hythlodaeus.”

The young man smiled. “What of you, Azem?” She smiled back. “I love to dance. When the Emet-Selch, Hythlodaeus and I go to the park, Hythlodaeus always takes me to see the musicians nearby, and I drag him into dancing when the Emet-Selch inevitably runs to avoid it. There’s another secret for you to keep.” Elidibus chuckled slightly.

“Ah, finally, a laugh.”

“S-sorry…”

“Nothing to be sorry for; I just like knowing that you’re capable of letting loose for a bit.”

He nodded. There was a moment of silence before he asked her, “Azem, is there anything I should know about the Convocation?”

“That we’re all flying by the seat of our pants.”

He stammered at that remark. “I-I beg your pardon?”

“My young friend, confidence is key to being a member of the Convocation. Quite frankly, there’s something new everyday, and it’s impossible to create a real standard for how we handle things. We have our protocol, but as much as they complain about me skirting it, they have also conveniently avoided protocol themselves.”

“But-but we’re supposed to lead our people, keep our society thriving…”

“If that’s how you keep looking at it, you’ll be that nervous every single day for the rest of your tenure.”

He blinked.

“Yes, we’re leaders, and we do, in fact, lead, but there’s no trick to being a Convocation member. There is simply being one. Bring ideas to the floor, engage in debate, do your reports and other paperwork, and go home. You’ll feel much more fulfilled at the end of the day if you remove the unnecessary pressure.”

He contemplated her words.

“The next time we go to the floor, I have an idea about revamping the concept submission process, make it more streamlined for easier processing. Could I…ask for your support, Azem?”

She pretended to ponder, then told him, “Tell you what; I’ll support it…if you can beat me at a game of cards.”

“What?!” he exclaimed in disbelief.

“Those are my terms. Do you accept them?”

“Is that…that can’t be protocol!”

“It’s not, but I should tell you how the Lahabrea got me to support his idea to reconstruct the Akadaemia Anyder.”

BOOM

The thunderclap roared over the Bureau of the Architect, and the rain slowly followed suit.

“Seems like a good time to play in my office, don’t you think?”

He still felt befuddled by the idea that any one of the Convocation of Fourteen should be anything close to him. That they were anything like him felt foreign. They’re leaders of Amaurot, creation masters; how could they be as clueless as the Azem claims them to be?

“Or would you prefer to sit alone in the rain? Because I will be returning inside to listen and watch it from the comfort of my dry and warm office with my meal. I would be pleased for the company, but I will leave that decision to you, young Elidibus.”

She stood up and as she said she would, she turned around and walked inside the Bureau. Elidibus sat there for a moment, realizing just how little he liked to get wet, but still wasn’t sure what to think. Finally, he rose from the stairs himself, and opened the door to return inside himself.

He walked down the halls to locate her office, passing each door, trying to see if there were any that he could peek through, but many were closed. Lahabrea…Igeyorhm…Nabriales…Emet-Selch… and last, but not least, Azem, the only open door. Before young Elidibus could enter, he heard a voice behind him.

“Ah, good afternoon, Elidibus. Were you hoping to speak with me?”

Emet-Selch approached him from behind. Elidibus turned to meet his gaze, despite being hidden behind a white mask, and answered, “Oh, no sir. I was hoping to speak with Azem. She invited me to lunch in her office.”

“Did she now?” he asked with a hint of curiosity in his voice. He took his shoulder and told him, “Come.” The two entered her office together, the Emet-Selch clearing his throat to get her attention. It worked, but she didn’t pry her gaze from the window.

“Hades, use your words”, she teased.

“Helios, are you corrupting this young man?”

That got her attention enough to turn around. Indeed, the young Elidibus stood at his side, a shoulder in the Emet-Selch’s right hand. “He informed me you asked him to lunch with you in here.”

“Oh, Hades, there’s nothing to corrupt. He’s quite stalwart for someone so young.”

“What has she told you, young man?” Before he could answer, she piped in with a teasing, “Nothing of import. Certainly not about how you beg me for strawberry candy when I leave the city.” Hades gasped and stumbled his words, “I-you-guh-I most certainly do not!”

“Uh-huh” she taunted, “Nor how you try to bring home near every stray cat you meet.”

“I would never bring such a pest into our home!”

“Right, now what will you tell Locus when we get home? She’ll be just the saddest cat we’ve ever had.”

He growled, shot his gaze to Elidibus and told him, “Everything she tells you is an absolute lie.”

“Only when it’s convenient for me to be telling the truth will he say I’m telling it, or so I’ve noticed.”

“Helios, you’re impossible!”

“I love you too. Now you better not have eaten lunch without me. I’ll excuse dear Elidibus here, but you?”

“I would never. Come, Elidibus, take a seat.” The young man nodded and took one of two seats in front of Azem’s desk.

“Um, Azem, when did you want to play that card game?” Elidibus asked meekly.

“Ah!” She pulled out a deck of cards and answered, “I’d like to finish my meal, then we can get started.”

“You’re not teaching him that ridiculous card game.”

Helios shook her head at her beloved, “I don’t have to. Why, he told me himself he loves card games.”

“Do you?” Emet-Selch asked the new member incredulously. “Uh, yes, sir, I do.” Realizing how this could be taken, he blurted out, “I-I don’t usually play it when I’m working, but-but I was asked to play with her for a work reason.”

“Oh dear…” Emet-Selch rubbed his temples and asked, “I think I know what she’s doing. All right, young one, what did you want to bring to the floor?”

Something within him sparked. That such a powerful creator could possibly listen to someone like him made him feel so honored. “Well, sir, if I may, there’s been many complaints about the process for submitting a concept, and I had an idea for how to streamline it, make it easier for employees to process submissions, and if you’ll hear me out, I think we can make it work”, Elidibus rambled excitedly.

“Hm”, Emet-Selch thoughtfully hummed, “You are correct that many do have trouble with their concepts being input. Long wait lines, a filing system that needs updating…not a bad idea.” He turned his head towards Azem and asked, “But why are you making him play cards for this?”

“I need to see him play now that he’s told me he likes this game. Besides, he may have your support, but I still have my terms.”

“Such are the dealings of our Azem; you truly wish her to be your role model, young man?”

“Role model? I’m simply his coworker.”

“Well, I’m glad you would deny the mantle. It might be better for someone who actually performs his duties to teach him the ropes.”

“Ha! I do my job well, thank you. It’s just not pencil-pushing.”

Emet-Selch shook his head. “Whatever will we do with you?”

“The better one is ‘what will you do without me?’”

“Work, probably.”

She scoffed at him, and told Elidibus, “I’m ready for that game now.”

“Deal me in as well.”

“My stars, Hades- you would play cards at work?”

“We’re not exactly working now, are we?”

A smile formed on her lips as she shuffled the deck. “Not quite. Don’t worry about him, Elidibus, it’s just me you’ll need to beat, not that it’s hard to beat our Emet-Selch at cards.”

“Hmph, slander, my love.”

The three played a good round. Azem gave him a run for his money, but he ultimately succeeded in the end, and received her full support for his proposal. Not that it mattered; she would have supported him anyways, but she enjoyed seeing the young man go from the nervous wreck he started his day as to a more relaxed version of himself, one that realized he was among peers, and not masters.

“There, he won. Are you happy, Helios?” Hades asked annoyedly.

“Quite. Thank you for a good game, my young friend” Azem complimented.

“Now come, Elidibus; it’ll be better for us to discuss this without her influence.” Hades stood up and walked out of her office to go next door. Elidibus stood up, ready to follow him as he requested, but then stopped. Without turning around, he asked her, “Would it be all right if I came back to eat with you tomorrow?”

She grinned. “My friend, anytime I’m in Amaurot, you’re more than welcome here. I’d rather you here than outside in the rain.”

He smiled and said, “Thank you.” Elidibus walked out of her office and moved himself from her office to the Emet-Selch’s.

The day went by without much clamor, then Elidibus gathered his things and left the office for the day. As he walked outside, the humidity left from the rain slicked his skin. It felt sticky, not his favorite sensation. Then he remembered the conversation from his lunch with Azem.

He took a deep breath, and embraced the earthy scent that blessed the city of Amaurot.

[write-orflight]

Like Real People Do.  Chapter 6

*Gif not mine*

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3  

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Rating: M, eventually will be smut.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: Semi-angst, a lot of cursing, Kinda nsfw language. Body image issues

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

A.N This chapter made me cry while writing it and it’s a long one. Message to be on Taglist. Much love, Cia

Chapter 6: Before those hands pulled me from the earth?  

You wake up the next morning to knocking at your front door, Garbage immediately running out of the bed in search of the sound, probably hoping it was someone with food. 

You groggily walk to the door in your pajamas and open it, it’s Spencer. Standing in his typical cardigan over a dress shirt, messenger bag clenched tightly in his grasp. 

“Spen, what’re you doing here?” You ask, sleepily. 

“I-uh, I know today’s going to be rough, I just thought you maybe didn’t want to go in alone.” He says, nervously. “It’s stupid, I’ll just go-” He starts to turn but you grasp his wrist, tugging him down so you could peck his cheek, you smile at the instant blush that spreads across his cheeks. 

“Thanks for thinking of me but I still have to shower and get dressed. Do you mind making coffee?” You ask, Spencer shakes his head no before walking to where he knew your kitchen was. 

You go into your bathroom and undress slowly in front of your full length mirror. It had been a big selling point when they showed you the apartment, but you kept covered it in newspaper the second you moved in. You hated your reflection, often reminded you of that night and your time with Gabriel. Large raised scars adorned your abdomen and sides, and if you could turn and see they’d be all over your back too. Stray tears fell from your face. Your mom would always tell you how beautiful your skin naturally was. How women her age would pay just for their skin to look like yours again.

You knew she’d be disgusted with how it looked now. 

You sighed heavily before stepping into the hot stream of your shower. 

When you come out, you dress blandly in a simple gray button up black slacks and blazer. You put your hair in a tight bun and opt to wear your glasses instead of trying contacts. Typically, this is boring and not your style at all but Hotch and Rossi had briefed you on how you should dress and act today. To look exactly the opposite of what attracted you to him in the first place, to be sensible and adult. 

You come out and Spencer is leaning against your kitchen counter, sipping from a mug with one hand and petting Garbage who was sitting happily on the counter next to him. When he sees you, he smiles and hands you another mug. You cautiously take a sip. It’s made exactly how you like it.

Of course it is. 

You lean against the other counter across from him and listen absently as he tells you facts about cats, still affectionately petting Garbage. The whole thing feels domestic and scarily, right. Normally, you get antsy when people are comfortable in your space but Spencer just seems to fit. Like it’s exactly where he was meant to be. 

“Are you ready to go?” He asks as a while. You had almost forgotten why he was here in the first place. You nod, and the two of you walk outside to your car. 

You drive silently, Spencer chatting amicably in the passenger seat. You could tell he was trying to distract you, you welcomed that. It was only a matter of time before you saw the entrance to the FBI parking garage. 

You drove straight past it. 

“Uh, Y/N… That was the turn.” He says, warily. 

“I know, I just needed to circle the block really quick.” You say, He nods understandingly, You blow a breath as you circle the block. You see the entrance in sight. 

You drive straight past it again. 

“Fuck!” You swear. “I’ve got it this time, I swear.” 

“You can take your time, Y/N/N.” Spencer says, softly. 

“No, I can’t!” You say, looking over at the man next to you. He looks at you with a soft expression. “And God, stop looking at me like that.” 

“Like what, Y/N.” 

“With pity!” You yell. “You all look at me like I’m going to break any second and this was the exact reason I didn’t want you guys to know in the first place. I’m still me, I’m still more than capable of doing my job. I’ve interviewed serial killers before, so stop looking at me like that!” 

“I’m not looking at you like anything, Y/N.” He says. 

“Spencer, we both know I’m not an idiot. Yes, you are.” 

“Ok, maybe I am!” He raises his voice back at you. You turn your eyes off the road for a second to look incredulously at him. He never raises his voice at you. “But that’s only because you went from being the smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met to being the strongest as well. 

You pull into the garage silently when he says that. You pull into a space quickly, throwing your car into park. You look up at him to see he’s already looking at you with so much adoration, you’ve never seen that on him before.  

“Thank you.” You say quietly. 

“You’re welcome.” He smiles, getting out of the car.  

You follow him to meet your fate. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two of you head straight for Hotch’s Office. He opts to wait outside while Hotch and Rossi go over how you should act with him once he’s in interrogation. Be indifferent, don’t show any emotion and if you do, don’t let that emotion be fear. You still being fearful of him is what gets him off. You nod and mumble “Yes, sir.” as you walk out, you realize you should’ve waited. Spencer was there waiting for you but so was he. Being escorted off the elevator by two guards, Gabriel Ferguson is walking through the bullpen towards interrogation. He looks up at the catwalk, sees you and smiles. You feel sick to your stomach suddenly. 

“Hey, don’t look at him. Look at me.” Spencer says. His hand moves under your chin, tilting your head so you’re looking in his eyes. The action itself is so intimate that you can’t help the doe-eyed admiring look you give back to him. “You’re safe okay, no one here is going to let anything happen to you. I’m right here and I’m also going to be right behind that glass. Nothing’s going to happen. You’re going to get the address, then he’s going to go under the needle and you’re going to move on with your life, ok?” He reassures you. You nod back at him. Hotch clears his throat behind you guys, causing you to take a step away from each other. 

“You ready, Y/N?” He asks. 

You sigh.  “As I’ll ever be.”  

-----------------------------------------------------------------

You follow Hotch into the interrogation room, where you see him sitting. The smug look that always adorned his face. He stands, cuffs around his feet and hands. 

“Beloved--” He greets. 

“Sit down!” Hotch instantly yells, the man falls back into his seat. 

“Hotch, I’m fine. You can go.” 

“Yea, Hotch.” He says, venomously. “She’s a big girl.” 

Hotch gives him an angry look that could cut steel, as he cuffs the man to the table in front of you. He looks at you, softly. “I’m right outside.” He turns and exits, leaving you alone with your monster. 

You sit, sitting a legal pad on the table next to you keeping the pen next to it. You then lean back and pull out your phone. 

Gabriel says nothing, neither do you. You sit in silence, he watches you as you keep your focus on the screen in front of you. 

After 5 minutes, he snaps. “Am I boring you?” He asks. 

“Yes.” You say, looking into his eyes before turning back to your phone. 

“Come on, Play fair, Beloved.” He says, in that voice that always made bile come up every time you thought about it. “The deal was I give up the location if you talk to me.” 

“No, the deal was if you give the location of the bodies, You get to talk to me. I don’t have anything to say to you.” You turn your attention back to your phone. “Oh, and you will call me Agent Y/L/N, or nothing at all.” 

After another minute, he snaps banging his hands against the table. It startles you for a second before you fix back to your bored expression. “What could possibly be more important that you need to be on your phone right now?” He says, angrily. You’ve forgotten how angry he could get and how scary that was but you didn’t let him win. 

“Lunch actually.” You say looking into his eyes with a bored expression. “I’m thinking of getting Thai. I think this’ll take, what… 30 at most so if I order it now then it’ll probably get here by the time we’re done.” 

He slams his hands again. This time you don’t react, expecting it “Put your phone away now!” You roll your eyes. “You know, I don’t like being disobeyed, Beloved.” 

You do get off your phone but place it on the table in front of you, not wanting to show him an ounce of obedience. “I’ve already told you, It’s Agent Y/L/N” 

“Ah yes, Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N.” He says, in a sickly tone. “Followed in daddy’s footsteps, huh? Let’s hope you don’t meet the same fate.” 

That throws you off a bit but you try not to let it show. “Considering you’ll be dead in what? 23 hours? I don’t think I will.” 

He has the nerve to chuckle. “Aw come on, Beloved. You won’t mourn me when I’m gone?” 

“No, I was actually thinking of throwing a party.” 

“That’s not true, there were times when you enjoyed our time together.” 

You look at him, angrily. “I did not enjoy a single second with you.” You say, coldly. 

He leans back. “I saw him, you know.” 

“What’re you talking about?” 

“Him.” He says, as if that was supposed to give you some sort of indication. “Up on the catwalk with you. I saw how you looked at him. Boyfriend, I’m assuming?” 

You don’t give him any reaction to what he said but you knew he was talking about Spencer. 

“Co-worker.” You say. 

“Don’t lie to me, Beloved.” 

“I’m not.” You say, growing irritated. 

“I’ve worked a lot of jobs in this lifetime and I can tell you I’ve never looked at a ‘coworker’ like that.” He says, smirking “And I bet he’s right behind that glass. Do you think he’d like to know how you were back then. How you would beg for my cock? How you would scream?”  

“Stop.” You say, quietly. 

Spencer’s jaw clenched in the other room, he was seething mad and everyone else in the room could tell. 

“You gotta pull her out, Hotch.” 

“She’s fine, Spencer.” Hotch says. “If I thought she wouldn’t be, she wouldn’t still be in there. Let her do her job.” Hotch looks Spencer in his eyes. “Do you need to leave?” He asked. 

“No, sir.” Spencer said, turning his attention back to the scene unfolding in front of him. 

“You were always so good back then, so good and pure. Always wet and ready for me when I got home. I wonder, what he’ll have to say when he sees you, if he hasn’t already,  when he sees just how much I ruined you.” 

“ENOUGH!” You snap, angrily. “You didn’t ruin me! I ruined you.” He looks at you confused. “You think we didn’t find your little manifesto? With your brilliant plan to kill 2 agents and their daughter then kill yourself? You thought that would make you famous, didn’t you? That you’d go down like Dahmer and Bundy? Well, guess what, asshole? I had them seal the records, no one even knows what you did and as a bigger fuck you, I’m. Still. Alive. And you had to live the past 10 years and now the next 22 hours and 22 minutes, knowing that you are exactly what your parents always said you were, a fucking pathetic failure.” You’re seething, you know you weren’t supposed to do this but you don’t care at this point. You played his game for too long, in fact, you played it for 10 years. “And my scars only show me that despite your best wishes I’m still living. And when they stick that needle in your arm finally, I’m going to get a coffee, or read a book, or ride a bike. I’m going to do every single thing a living person does. Because in the end, You did not win. I did.” 

You stand up grabbing your things to leave. Hotch is already entering before you can turn and go. He looks at you in concern but your eyes are only focused on Ferguson’s  

“There’s an old pig farm off route 100. I’d check the flooring of the barn if I were you.” He says. You immediately go to exit the room. “And Beloved?” You stop, but you don’t turn around to meet his eyes. “Of all the girls, you were my favorite.” 

On that, you do turn. “Go fuck yourself.” You say, leaving him and hopefully, the past behind you. 

You speed walk away, you hear Spencer calling your name behind but you speed walk away from him into the file room. The tears you’d been holding all day come back with a vengeance as a sob tears through you. Suddenly, you feel arms around you and you know it’s Spencer. 

“Spencer, let me go. I’m fine.” 

He’s reluctant but he does let go. “No, you’re not, Y/N.” He says, looking into your eyes. “It’s ok. You did so good in there.” 

The sob rips through you again, this time Spencer keeps his hands to himself, unsure if you want to be touched. “You saw?” You asked, He nodded sadly. “So, you heard what he said, what I did.” 

“You didn’t do anything, Y/N.” He says, looking into your eyes. “You did what you had to to survive. No one’s judging you for that.” 

“He’s right though.” You say, tears streaming down your face. “He ruined me.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“It’s true!” You snap. “Look at me, I’m a fucking wreck. I have nightmares all the fucking time, I can’t even look at my own reflection for long without getting sick, I can’t date because every time I do, I’m afraid they’ll finally see me and see this broken, horrifying, disgusting monster he left behind. I-” your rant is cut off by Spencer’s lips connecting to yours. 

Your first kiss had been Peter Ross in the closet at your first boy/girl party in 8th grade, you remember it being wet and slimy and swearing to yourself you’d never kiss a boy again. That hadn’t been true though, you remember your high school boyfriend, Tony, who had kissed you for the first time under the bleachers of the football field. Derrick, your college sweetheart, who kissed you for the first time in the library. Danny, a summer fling who kissed you on the beach. Random boys you had the misfortune of meeting and making out with at parties. You’ve had a lot of first kisses in your life, you thought you knew exactly what they were supposed to feel like. 

They’ve never felt like this. 

Like fire under your skin, fireworks behind your eyes. Pulling cookies out of the oven at the right time. The smell of calm air after a hurricane. 

These were some of the things you’d use to describe what it felt like kissing Spencer Reid but the action itself was still indescribable. 

You groan in surprise at first, not completely sure what was happening. But when his hands caressed soft yet somehow still firmly around your face, you couldn’t help but melt right back into him. Your hands moved to his jaws while his moved from your face to grip tightly at your waist. His tongue slides along your bottom lip, you groan in surprise earning you a groan in return and a tongue in your mouth. You stay like that for a while, frenching in the file room like this was a bad Daytime drama, until he eventually pulls away. You go to follow his lips but he only pulls back more with a smile, leaning his forehead against yours. You stay like that for a moment, your hands still on his jaw, his on your waist. 

“Do you-uh,” He starts. “Do you want to get dinner tonight?” He asks. 

“Uh, yea.” You say, reluctantly letting him go and backing up so you can look at him properly. “Can it be Thai? Talking about it in there made me crave it.” 

He nods, happily at you before following you out of the file room.      

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[freddiefiction]

The Cat Whisperer

Credit goes to the anon who asked for Freddie being jealous of Jim’s way with animals.

It was rare for Freddie Mercury to ever admit defeat. But right now, he felt as though he had been well and truly beaten.

He had spent weeks trying to figure out Jim’s secret to attracting animals. His husband had always been a magnet for furry four-legged creatures; Freddie had even gone as far as to nickname him “St Francis of Assisi” because of the way local strays would flock in his direction whenever they went abroad. But nobody for the life of them could figure out why. Even Jim was completely stumped. So, Freddie had taken it upon himself to discover the secret behind the Irishman’s gift, before Jim stole the affections of all his beloved cats for good.

His first theory was food. Jim was the one who provided the cats with their two meals a day, so perhaps they navigated towards him because they saw him as their primary food source. For a whole week, Freddie insisted on getting up early to serve the cats breakfast and giving them their dinner when he was home from the studio in the evening. But as soon as the food was in their bellies, the treacherous felines would saunter past him and make an immediate beeline for Jim. This theory was quickly scratched.

His second theory was scent. He had read somewhere that animals were drawn to certain odours and wondered if smelling like Jim might solve his problem. He began with stealing a few of Jim’s shirts and using his aftershave; when this didn’t work, he resorted to rolling around in the dirt outside (much to the concern of Phoebe, who thought he was having a funny turn,) in case it was the scent of the garden they liked. But all he ended up with was filthy clothes and a very judgemental look from Delilah. This theory was also quickly scratched.  

His third theory was indifference. Jim didn’t make a fuss over the pets like Freddie did; he gave them their space and didn’t bother them with unwanted cuddles or hugs. Maybe playing hard to get was the answer.

Maybe not. The cats barely noticed his sudden aloofness. In fact, all it seemed to do was push them further into Jim’s muscular arms. Theory three, officially scratched.

‘I give up.’ Freddie said aloud without thinking, as he watched Jim stretch out on the sofa with Miko curled on his chest, gently nuzzling his chin as she groomed her whiskers against his stubble.

‘Give up what?’ His husband asked, puzzled.

‘I’ve tried everything.’ Freddie set down his teacup so aggressively the china rattled. ‘Four bloody weeks I’ve been trying to figure out your secret. Four weeks of my life that I’ll never get back.’

‘Love, what are you on about?’

‘What do you have that I don’t?’ Freddie got up from his armchair, crossing over and plucking Miko off Jim’s stomach – ignoring her when she meowed in protest – so he could flop on top of the Irishman himself. ‘If it’s not food, or your smell, or being considerate of their feelings, what is it?’

No response came from Jim. He just chuckled and dropped a kiss onto Freddie’s head, reaching down to lift a grumbling Miko and place her between the singer’s shoulder blades so she didn’t feel left out. Freddie buried his face into the crook of Jim’s neck, the warm embrace helping to quell his sulky mood as Jim wrapped his strong arms around him and gave a gentle squeeze.

Jim always gave the best hugs. They made you feel safe, secure, as if nothing in the world could ever hurt you again. Honestly, sometimes Freddie felt like he could lie in his husband’s arms forever.

Hold on a moment…

‘That’s it!’ Freddie exclaimed, almost sending Miko flying as he sat up abruptly. ‘That’s why they like you! You’re comfortable!’

‘I hope that’s not your subtle way of saying I’ve gained a few pounds.’ Replied Jim as he reached over to retrieve a disgruntled Miko for a second time. When he saw the startled expression on Freddie’s face, he quickly backtracked. ‘Joke, love, just joking. So, you think the secret to drawing in the cats is because they see me as a big, comfy cushion?’

‘What other explanation is there? I’ve tried everything else, and nothing worked. It’s got to be because you’re more comfortable than I am.’

‘Does it really matter, pet?’ Said Jim between tickling Miko beneath the chin. ‘The cats love you to bits, you know that. Even if they’d rather take a nap on me, you’ll always be their number one dad.’

Freddie went over the question in his brain. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure why he had made such a big deal about the situation in the first place. Jim was right; his cats loved him and that was all that really mattered.

‘No, I suppose it doesn’t.’ Freddie yawned and rubbed his cheek against Jim’s jaw. ‘Besides, I can’t really blame them for wanting to sit on you all the time. You do give the best cuddles, dear.’

‘I know. It’s the only reason you still keep me around.’ Jim sniggered as Freddie playfully slapped his thigh in response.