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4unnyr0se · 4 months

Note

pookie pls can you write for gojo where reader and him are coworkers at jujutsu high and have a dynamic similar to utahime and gojo? and like yaga is always making them work together even tho they don’t like eachother, but Gojo lowkey gets off on reader being annoyed at him so there is *tension*? 🥺🥺🥺

❥ whole lotta attitude | satoru gojo

warnings: enemies to lovers, gojo is a dickhead but it's okay because he's gojo, fem! reader, unprotected sex, office sex (im a slut for office sex), multiple orgasms, wall sex, roughness, one hickey, spanking, oral sex (m! receiving), making out, filthy filthy words are spoken, hella sexual tension, reader hates gojo but gojo loooooves her, gojo gets slapped once, degrading, praise, hair pulling, hate(?) sex, gojo texts like a super senior, a little bit of a textfic but not rlly, fluff at the end

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 3.6k

Jujutsu High was quiet today. That wasn’t unusual because most of the students were either out on missions or in Shokos’ office experiencing whatever the hell she called “medicine.” The quiet was nice, strangely calming, and reassuring. Being a jujutsu sorcerer yourself, calm was a foreign feeling. The cool breeze blew your hair softly in the wind, the songbirds tweeting a melody that was most becoming on this quiet say. You took a deep breath in as you leaned against a wooden pole, admiring how clear the sky was. Everything was simply perfect. If tomorrow was your last day alive, today would be the most wonderful send-off.

“Hey there princess! I missed you!”

And just like that, there was no more peace. No more tranquility, no more sing-song bird crap. There’s only Satoru Gojo and his humongous ego that crushes anyone within a 50-foot radius.

His deep voice was laced with a sickly sweet playful tone that made you want to grab his collar and punch him right in his perfect nose. God, you fucking hated him. He was the bane of your existence with his smug attitude and that stupid infinity that he only turned off when you were around. Did he seriously think you were that weak, and he didn’t even need to use infinity because he could defeat you within a millisecond? Stupid fucking handsome bastard, you hated him with every fiber of your being.

“What, you’re ignoring me now? Don’t be like that, it’s not nice!” Gojo laughed and practically teleported to where you were sitting, his eyes no doubt sparkling under that black blindfold he always wore.

You groaned and rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and looking away from the smug bastard. “Fuck off, Gojo. I was having a perfectly peaceful afternoon before your very existence ruined it for me.” You pinched your temple with your index finger and thumb, rubbing the stressed skin. “I was calm for once in my damn life. You really do have a talent for making me wish I was six feet under.”

Gojo playfully pouted and shifted himself to your other side, taking your hand off your temple. He cradled it with his own, royally pissing you off in the process. “Why are you always so grumpy all the time, huh? Is it because your students are always out on missions instead of keeping little ol’ your company?” He mocked slightly, letting go of your hand. His blue eyes sparkled beneath his blindfold, filled with mischief. “I could keep your company, you know that right? Or is Little Miss Grumpy Pants too high and mighty to give me a shot?”

“I would literally rather make out with Jogo than spend more time with you than I’m legally required.”

“Ouch, that hurt.”

“Too bad, so sad.” You smirked, shoving him away. If anyone else had seen that they would have been shocked. The mighty Satoru Gojo, pushed to the ground by a grade two sorcerer. You rose up from the wooden desk and dusted yourself off, walking away as quickly as you could in your tennis shoes.

“I always look forward to these meetings you know!” Gojo yelled at you in the distance only to see the faintest image of your middle finger wiggling at him. Gojo smirked and put down the hem of his blindfold, his hair returning to its usual upright position.

You stormed back into your office and locked the door shut, sliding down against the mahogany doorframe in exhaustion. How was it possible that just being in his presence absolutely drained you of all resolve? Was he really that strong, or was he just super fucking annoying? You had no idea, no one ever had any idea when it came to Satoru Gojo.

The beautiful day finally came to an end and you got back to your apartment, collapsing onto your couch. Most jujutsu sorcerers had house provided to them by their clans, but that was not your case. Your neighbors thought you were a teacher at some religious school deep in the country side. It was the best excuse you could come up with for being gone for practically days at a time. Maybe the only bus to the train station broke down or something, any old excuse like that in order to keep the nosy (and mostly elderly) fellow tennents off your back.

“Fuck my life…” You groaned, placing your head in your hands as you stumbled over to your cozy bedroom, it’s warm environment almost giving you a hug in its own way. You slipped into your pajamas and curled up under the covers, setting your alarm on your phone for the next morning. Just as you were about to close your eyes, your phone started to buzz. At first it was just a single vibration, probably a text from your mother or something. But the buzzes and vibrations kept coming until your phone was practically moving itself off the bed.

You groaned in annoyance and turned over, checking the notification center to see who the hell had the nerve to text you nine times in a row. And sure enough, sporting the contact photo of a .5 that he took of himself when he stole your phone that one time, Satoru fucking Gojo had spam texted you at 11:41PM.

“What the actual hell?” You whispered, unlocking your phone to see what could possibly be this important. Nothing was ever this important past 10PM, not even if your apartment building was on fucking fire.

The messages plagued your screen, his smirking face in the contact photo made you even more angry. And yet a faint blush found itself creeping up against your face. Maybe it was the sheer excitement of a man texting you at night, or maybe deep down you actually liked Gojo. You smacked yourself lightly on the cheek, trying to erase that thought from your sleep-ridden mind.

Worst person alive: heyyyy

Worst person alive: r u up???

Worst person alive: theres no way u actually went to bed, omg ur such a grandma

Worst person alive: im bored talk to me

Worst person alive: megumi wont answer my texts :(( i think he hates me

Worst person alive: i know ur awake, u were active three minutes ago on insta

Worst person alive: ik u blocked me on their but jokes on u i have 5 other accounts

Worst person alive: pls pls pls pls talk to me im dying over here princess

Worst person alive: btw yaga assigned us on a mission tmrw mwah

Your eyed widened at the last message, your hands gripped the phone with white-knuckle strength. “Fucker!” You yelled, turning off your phone before melting under the covers. Why did Yaga have to do this to you? You and Gojo together was torture enough, but now you had to do actual work with each other? Gojo was grossly incompetent at anything that didn’t involve exorcising cursed spirits.

You sighed and closed your eyes, silently praying that a curse would somehow break into your bedroom and murder you right then and there. But unfortuanly, you woke up to your alarm blaring in your ear the next morning.

Gojo and yourself were sat in Yaga’s office, Gojo smirking at you the entire time. You blushed under his gaze, hands gripping the edges of your seat as you waited for Yaga to tell you what the assignment was. Was Yaga being late on purpose just to mess with you? Did you manage to piss him off somehow? A million questions were flying through your mind and there was no answer in sight.

“I saw you read my messages princess.” Gojo finally spoke, leaning forward. He was significantly taller over you, his towering muscular frame intimating you. “Why didn’t you respond? I was really bored. It’s rude to ignore your friends.” He spoke, that same sticky and syrupy voice coming back to haunt you.

“Maybe that’s because we aren’t friends, Gojo.” You scoffed, flipping your hair behind your back. “Could you please just shut up until Yaga gets here? If I have to listen to you mock me again I might actually explode.” Sighing, you placed your face in your hands.

“Actually,” Gojo purred, getting up from his seat only to sit down in Yaga’s velvet office chair. “Yaga doesn’t have a mission for us, princess.” He kicked his feet up on the desk, taking off his blindfold. His snowy white hair fell into a beautiful mess, with his painfully gorgeous blue eyes lighting up his already hellishly handsome face.

You looked up from your hands to raise an eyebrow, your face immediately turning a bright red upon seeing Gojo without his signature blindfold. “I’m sorry, what? I don’t follow.”

Gojo tutted and threw the black fabric onto your lap, his eyes still staring at your blushing face. Gojo found it simply adorable how you would always get so flustered, so annoyed in his presence. How you would always deny being attracted to him, how you swore up and down that he was put on this Earth to make your life a living hell. But he noticed that you would always squeeze your thighs together when he spoke. It was precious, really. How you thought you could hide your painfully obvious desire for him.

“Ae you hard of hearing or something, princess?” Gojo purred, leaning forward to he could grab onto the collar of your navy blue work uniform. With just a snap of his wrists his face was mere centimeters away from your own, the tips of your noses were pressed up against each other so perfectly. You felt your breathing quicken, the atmosphere in Yaga’s office so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. “I said that Yaga never gave us a fucking mission. I just wanted to see you again.” He breathed out, his steaming air causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. His grip on your collar tighten, his eyes were filled with desire. Desire for you that’s long overdue to be broken.

Your brows furrowed at you gripped onto his wrist, trying your best to pry his hand away from your uniform collar. Twisting and turning his wrist every which way turned out ot be fruitless, causing you to grow ever more angry and flustered. Fuck Gojo and his superhuman abilities, fuck him for being the strongest.

Instead, your hand came flying at his face. Your palm collided with his flesh, the cold stinging sensation snapping Gojo out of his lustful trance. His spare hand crept onto his cheek, rubbing the mark softly. You gulped, nervous to see how the strongest jujutsu sorcerer would react to getting slapped across the face by a grade two.

He smirked and threw his head back slightly, a dark chuckle emitting from his throat. He looked back down at you, his grip on your collar so strong that you started to choke. “God, I was hoping you would fucking do that.”

In an instant his lips were on yours, roughly clashing against each other. It took every fiber of his being to not rip all your clothes off right then and there, to bend you over Yaga’s desk and fuck you senseless. Oh how long Gojo had waited to feel your plump lips being ravaged by his own, and how deliciously rewarding it was to play the long game. Finally your lips were melding perfectly with each other, his tongue picking up just the faintest taste of peach chapstick.

Gojo pulled away from the kiss after about a minute, a thick strand of saliva connecting your lips. He sighed in pleasue as his eye landed on your flustered face, your mouth still agape like a slut.

“So fucking pretty like this,” he muttered, stepping out from behind the desk. He pulled you out of your chair and trapped you against the wall, his muscular torso being so easily felt under the think fabric of the uniforms the school provided. “Been wanting to kiss you since forever, y’know.” He mumbled, dragging his callosued hands up and down the clothed snatches of your wasit. “Your lips taste even better than I imaged, sweetness.”

You blushed at his sultry words, the faint glim in his ocean blue eyes only making your knees evern weaker. Slowly but carefully, your arms wrapped themselves around his broad shoulders. “You’re still on my shitlist,” you muttered, standing on the tips of your toes to meet his eyeline.

“And you’re as stubborn as ever, princess.” Gojo purred picking you up by the bottoms of your thighs, Your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, making it look like a scene straight out of a movie. “Such a pretty mouth, you gonna let me fuck it?” He whispered, rubbing circled on your bare thighs. The modest jujutsu skirt you wore covered your legs quite nicely, so you never really felt the need to wear tights. And that drove Gojo fucking wild.

“Depends, what’s in it for me?” You smirked, tugging lightly on the baby hairs at the back of his head. Gojo hissed in pleasure, kind of proud that you were being equally as bratty to him as he was to you.

“The best fuck you’ll ever get, plus some more.” Gojo let go of your thighs, letting you drop onto your knees. You looked up at him, gulping in anticipation as you saw the imprint of his throbbing erection covered by his pants. “You gotta get me prepared first, princess. Or else I might not fuck that pussy as good, got it?” His voice was dripping with desire for you as his expert hands pulled down his pants, tossing them aside along with his boxers. His cock tapped against his shirt, leaving the smallest precum stain.

You bit down on your lip at the sight of his cock, moving yourself foreward. Ever so carefully, your right hand gripping onto the base of his cock. Tongue falling out of your mouth, you took his cock in your wet cavern slowly, your cheeks hollowing out to accommodate his girth and length.

“Shit princess, just like that. Yeah, I knew you would be good at suckin’ dick.” Gojo praised, offering you a slanted smile as your hands stroked what your mouth couldn’t fit. His large hand tangled itself into your messy hair, tugging on the roots ever so gently. His hips bucked into your mouth ever so slowly, almost painfully slow. He treated you like you were so fragile, sharp contrast to when he had you pinned against the wall with his tongue shoved down your throat.

He groaned in pleasure as his cock his the back of his throat, his hips driving his member down your throat even faster. His grip on your hair tighten, causing a small pool of tears to well in the corner of your eye. A singular droplet ran down your pretty little face, which Gojo thought was just the cutest little thing.

“Oh, is my princess crying? What, my dick to big for your slutty little mouth?” His hips stopped snapping into your face, pulling your mouth off of his member slowly. “Well, if you can’t handle my dick in your mouth,” He grabbed your arm, throwing you against the desk. His pushed you down so your face was against the hard mahogany wood, with your ass up and on display for Gojo to smack. “Then maybe your pretty pussy will be able to handle me, hm?”

He shoved your skirt above your ass, the blue material bunching the divet in your waist. His hand ran over your soaked panties, shoving them aside to expose your soaked core to the cold office air. “So pretty f’me…” Gojo mumbled, gathering up some of your slick on his thumb and popping it inside of his mouth. “Delicious too, maybe you’ll be my dinner one day. Wouldn’t you like that, princess?” He teased, his hand cracking against the supple flesh of your perfect ass.

“Fuck!” you cried out, your hands gripping onto the wooden desk for dear life. You grew increasingly frustrated, especially knowing that Gojo was taking immense pleasure in making you wait tt get fucked. “Dammit Gojo, just fuck me already!” You demanded, your eyes being slightly covered by your mess of hair falling in front of them.

He smacked his hand across your ass again, alighting his cock with your sobbing entrance. “You sure got a whole lotta attitude, princess.” He purred, teasing your hole with his mushroom head. “I’ll be sure to fuck it outta you, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

He shoved his cock inside of you, hissing as your tight walls enveloped his member. You cried out in both pain and pleasure, having never experienced someone as big or as girthy inside of you. Sure, you had slept around before but this time he might actually make you cum. You wouldn’t have to fake an orgasm just for it to end.

“Shit, Gojo!” You screamed, lifting your head up from the desk to meet his gaze from behind. “Y-you’re too fuckin’ big, you know that?”

Gojo smirked and started to slowly thrust himself in and out of your weeping cunt, the sound of his groans mixing with your moans of pleasure filling the chilly office. “God, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Squeezing me already, princess? Good fuckin’ slut.” He grunted, pulling your hair back so your neck was against his mouth. His hips were now snapping furiously at your ass, his balls clapping against the skin. “You won’t mind if I give you a little mark, right? Gotta make sure you remember being bent over like this, pretty thing.”

His sharp teeth bit down onto your neck, sucking a nasty purple circle right where your jugular would be. The stimulation was utterly overwhelming, your mouth was agape and your throat was starting to hurt from all your cries. “Fuck, such a good slut for me.”

Gojo’s rough and callosued hands reached under your top to grope one of your tits, his fingers pinching and rubbing your nipple under the thin fabric. He could feel your orgasm was fast approaching the way you squeezed onto his cock, almost like your body was trying to suck him in even deeper inside of you. “Gojo, fuck! T-Too fucking handsy!” You managed to moan out, your brain slowly starting to turn to mush as the coil in your belly threatened to snap at any minte. “Fuck, gonna fucking cum!”

Gojo smirked and smacked your ass once more, slipping his hand from behind you to rub on your sensitive clit. “Cum all over this cock baby, f-fuck. Be a good fucking girl.” He demanded in your ear, his fingers now furiously rubbing themselves on your clit while his cock hit every place it needed to.

With a wanton gasp you threw your head back onto his shoulders, your orgasm washing over you like tsunami or a tidal wave. Wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over your every nerve, your eyes feeling fuzzy as you swore you could see stars.

“Fuck, holy fuck! Gojo, oh my fucking God!” you sobbed, your bottom lip trembling as you came down from your high. Gojo sighed and began to kiss your neck gently, his thrusts becoming faster and desperate as he felt his own euphoria approaching.

“Shit, gonna cum princess. Lemme cum inside of you, yeah? God you’re so fucking warm and tight, fuck!” He moaned into your neck, the movement of his hips becoming staggering and sloppy as his hot ropes of sticky cum coated your insides, filling you up so nicely. “F-fuck, oh my god…”

Gojo pulled out of you, smirking to himself as he saw his cum leak from your sloppy pussy. “Fucking amazing, princess.” He bent down to pick up his boxers and pants, putting them on quickly.

You got up from leaning over the desk and turned around, your face flushed and your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Your hands still gripping onto the table, your pretty lips slightly agape. “Holy shit…I think that was the best sex I’ve ever fucking had.” You breathed out, brushing the sweaty babyhairs out of your face.

Gojo smiled and bent down slightly, kissing your nose with a gentleness that was the complete opposite of how he fucked you. “I’ve been wanting to do that sicne I met you, you know.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, adjusting your stretched-out shirt collar. “Stop lying, you already fucked me. No need to lie anymore, Gojo.”

He frowned and grabbed onto your hand, his thumb carefully rubbing onto the back of it. “I’m not lying, you know.”

Raising an eyebrow you looked into his blue eyes, curious as to why there wasn’t a hint of deception swirling around in his oceans of blue. “Gojo…are you being serious?” You whispered, a blush once again covering your face. It wasn’t a blush of desire but a blush of shyness, like you were sixteen years old and just got confessed to.

“Satoru,” he spoke, bringing your hand to cup his pale face. “Call me Satoru, please.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes once more, your hand gently petting his flushed face. You took a step towards him, allowing Gojo to wrap his other hand around your waist. You two held each other in Yaga’s office, the scent of sex and passionate still filling up the otherwise stiff air.

“What are you gonna call me then, Satoru?” You softly spoke, standing on the tips of your toes so your lips were hovering against his once more. Gojo offered you a gentle smile, pecking your lips tenderly.

“I’m gonna call you mine.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #satoru gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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sabertoothwalrus · 6 months

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I’ve seen you post some labru stuff and I’m curious what your thoughts on it are. personally I don’t see it? I can buy Kabru having feelings for Laios, but I think Laios wouldn’t be interested in Kabru, so it makes me wonder why so many people ship them. (Tbh I feel like Kabru has more chemistry with Mithrun anyway)

Sorry if this ask sounds rude, I just genuinely don’t understand the appeal of the ship, but I want to understand and I trust your analysis of characters very much :] maybe there’s something I’m missing

I really like both ships, actually!

For labru, there’s sooooo much I could talk about. The inherent homoeroticism of being narrative foils. The inherent homoeroticism of being the king’s advisor. All of chapter 76. The fact that Kabru has mask upon mask upon mask, and Laios is the first person that made his facade absolutely crumble.

Kabru struggles with being genuine!!! Everything he says and does is so perfectly calculated, even when he sort of means it. But since Laios doesn’t get social cues, Kabru gets thrown for a loop.

I get so frustrated when people act like Kabru still hates Laios by the end of the manga!!!!! He killed those corpse retrievers for being corrupt, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to kill Laios. He has such a strong sense of justice, and knew that killing Laios would be a mistake. Because, after meeting him, he could tell he wasn’t actually evil. He’s strange, sure, but not evil.

Kabru DEFINITELY wants to be friends with Laios!! He was not lying about this!!!

But this last comic shows how much Laios wants to be friends with Kabru, too. He’s so nervous after calling Kabru his friend 😭 he doesn’t want to be presumptuous and fuck it up again.

Laios does show an interest in Kabru, at least when Laios thinks he’s interested in eating monsters too. Like,, what was up with THIS

Laios’s gaze is LINGERING. Plus, (this is before that bit at Thistle’s house when he forgets his name) he brings up Kabru when they first form their plan to eat Falin.

And maybe this is just because of my own personal experiences, but Laios reminds me a lot of my own girlfriend. I think they have a similar flavor of gay/aspec & autism combo where, had I not asked her out first, she probably never would have considered being interested in me. But she was very down when I did.

The tricky part about labru is more the political aspect. Regardless of whether you see Laios as aroace or not, he’s in a situation where he will probably get married. He had a fiancée before he was age 13, likely betrothed since he was a baby. He’s already comfortable with the idea of getting married because He’s Supposed To.

However, Laios is king, and could make gay marriage legal if he wanted to (He would probably do this for his sister and Marcille before considering it for himself ). But at the same time, I think Kabru would object to Laios making whatever policies he wants without considering the repercussions of how other kingdoms might react, especially when they’re just getting Melini off the ground and need lots of support from other countries. Laios and Kabru getting gay married anyway and dealing with the aftermath could make for a really compelling story.

I do think Kabru would be a good ruler. He’s already fit for it. He speaks a dozen languages, he knows people and their motivations, and likes politics. The manga already joked about Chilchuck’s daughters trying to marry a king, so it seems like noble blood isn’t too important, but Kabru’s foster family IS nobility. When it comes to heirs, I do like trans Kabru headcanons, but at the same time, I think it’d be cute if they adopt anyway. Kabru seems like he’d have strong feelings about adoption given,,, yknow.

The alternative version of labru to this is Laios gets straight married out of obligation, and Kabru is his mistress hdhdhshsj. I don’t know if I could see Laios doing that? or if Kabru would risk the scandal of being outed as Royal Advisor and Regent trying to seduce the king. It could go SO downhill. but maybe that would be fun.

NOW FOR KABUMISU.

I knew people shipped them, and I could see the basis for it while reading, but I wasn’t really sold on it until the very end. There’s something about “I had no desires left. I decided to create new desires, and one of them is you” that’s really charming.

There’s also something funny about “the demon ate my heterosexuality so I’m gay now”

I think it’s interesting that Kabru hates elves. He was raised by them, and he hates them. He hates feeling patronized by them. He made absolutely sure that elves wouldn’t take control over Melini, not just for his sake, but for Rin’s.

But Mithrun’s interactions with Kabru are founded on more mutual respect. Though, that’s not to say that Mithrun doesn’t still have his biases towards short lived races..

Where Laios doesn’t understand social cues, Mithrun does but just doesn’t care. For that reason, I think Kabru would enjoy spending time with Mithrun. It’d give him a break from his compulsion to calculate all of his social interactions. But at the same time, Kabru is the KING at bottling his emotions. Mithrun is blunt, but also doesn’t care enough to pry. If Kabru had anything bothering him, I could imagine him seeking Mithrun’s company to avoid thinking about it. Could make for a fun dynamic.

I do think it’s funny that Milsiril 1) took care of Mithrun for potentially 20 years and 2) is only four years older than him. I imagine this could lead to funny situations.

I don’t ship things for no reason! I think both of these could work platonically, romantically, one-sided, or even “requited but they don’t do anything about it.” Their relationships compel me and I think it’s sort of bad faith to brush off either like they’re nothing more than baseless yaoi pair-the-spares. To me, I see just as much of a foundation in the source material as farcille.

After all, dungeon meshi isn’t a story about romance, but it IS a story about love. It’s a story about life and death and grief and the love that comes with it. Regardless of shipping, these characters love each other!!! And I love talking about it!!

#long post #dungeon meshi #laios touden #kabru #mithrun #labru #kabumisu #dungeon meshi spoilers #photos

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kozachenko · 8 months

Text

I swear to god, Zanmu has just been on my mind recently, she's taking over my fucking brain please send help

Artist's Note:

Why is it that everytime I do a drawing of Zanmu I always make the canvas size fucking huge and it ends up being a living nightmare to fucking export. I swear to god I had to go from 1200 DPI to 600 to 350.

Exporting hell aside, I loved working on this piece. With Zanmu's design, I wanted to combine all the design details that I love and have seen in other people's drawings of Zanmu and give them my own personal touches. First of all, her sleeves were inspired by @amemenojaku's design for Zanmu, and I absolutley love that detail because not only does it make her feel more regal, it also can be a callback to Satori and old hell, and also gives me the idea that Satori's fashion sense was inspired by Zanmu because IRL a lot of historical fashion was inspired by what the nobles were wearing at the time, and since Satori was around since when Old Hell used to be Hell, she probably took some wardrobe inspo from her (or it could be my headcanon that Satori could've been Zanmu's royal advisor or she was in her court or something but that theory is kinda grasping at strings from other headcanons I have, but that's for a different post). Also, the eye makeup she has was inspired by @jothelion's drawings of Zanmu, and like, I fucking love that detail because it just adds so much like omg I just love it sm.

And now for the design details I put in. I gave Zanmu tassel earrings because I think they'd look great on her. I also really like to exaggerate her hair and really try to make it look wild, as well as having little grey hairs here and there. I also try to add some wrinkles to the corners of her eyes, but TBH I don't know how visible that detail is, since the image is pretty fucking big. I also really exaggerated the tassles/strings on her outfit, since I really wanted to play around with the potential flow they could have. Also, big fan of giving Zanmu longer sleeves and pants. IDK why but I just like how it flows better. Also big fan of making her taller, idk why a lot of fanart makes her short. Also, I placed her horns closer to the front of her head as I just think placing horns in that position looks cool.

Also, if you're wondering about the halo, I took some inspiration from a few of Caravaggio's paintings where he often depicts saints with this very thin halo around the top of their heads. I just liked that detail a lot so I thought I'd include it.

Fun fact, I was originally gonna make the four skeletons Chiyari, Biten, Enoko, and Hisami but I didn't like the prospect of having to draw four more characters, so I chose to replace them with skeletons (if you wanna get silly with it, Zanmu got Hisami to kidnap Aya, set up some skeletons with bones from her bone collection and told her to take a picture of her).

I kinda gave up on Zanmu's feet and the one skeleton's hands (as if drawing hands normally is hard enough but NOPE, HAD TO MAKE IT LIVING HELL FOR MYSELF BY MAKING IT A SKELETON) and the quality of the image may suffer because of how much I had to fucking compress it (Zanmu's presence alone was enough to make the computer lose all of it's desire and motivation to export the drawing of her lmao), but I have been hacking at this piece for a while now, plus I need to learn when to call it quits when it comes to drawings). Also as I was fixing up the hands there was one spot where I forgot to clean up with the sketch and I can't fucking unsee that now and it's going to fucking bother me until I fix it but fixing it requires going back and putting my computer through hell so yeah.

So yeah, that's about all I have to say with this drawing, it was fun but also a nightmare lol

#art #touhou project #fanart #touhou fanart #touhou 19 #unfinished dream of all living ghost #zanmu nippaku #touhou #東方project #東方

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idkfitememate · 10 months

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Hi! I was wondering if you could write another part for Otter creator! Like maybe them with Furina and Neuvillette having a tea party or something! (Possibly Wriothesley[?]!!), and they start realising more! (If Wriothesley’s there he should be oblivious for a bit!)

The Otter Chronicles Pt. 1

♡︎ « Next Part ⋙

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Otter Reader x Fontaine

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 1.3k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff, yandere-ish behavior (really straining the term here), itty bitty bit of angst

“Tea party, hooray!” It was easy to see that Furina was excited.

Because today was the day for your first REAL tea party. Not just locked in a room with her for a day.

And yes you meant a literal day. Like a whole ass day.

Anyway-

Her and Neuvillette were going to FINALLY take you to meet Wriothesley! Yay! It was just a date to take about some royal officiant bullshit you couldn’t bring yourself to care about, but as per usual, they refused to take you out of their sights.

So here you were, getting all dolled up in Lady Furina’s lap. A new bow tie, a fancier hat, and somehow Otter friendly makeup.

Where they found it? You don’t know. Did they make it? You’re 99.9% sure they had it commissioned. Do you look good with cate eye eyeliner? Hell yes.

You were now being carried in the Otter Pack™️ (a rather large and plush satchel that Neuvillette carried around, filled with lush blankets and pillows and only the FINEST toys for you to play with) with your head sticking out of the top, your fur freshly combed and oiled. Neuvillette’s fingers curled through what wasn’t covered by the hat.

Hell, you even had on some adorable golden and lapis embedded clip on earrings - they wouldn’t dare pierce your ears for fear of hurting you and damaging your hearing.

People cooed at you in your Otter Pack™️ and you sucked that shit up, you were basically drowning in sparkles!~ All the while Furina and Neuvillette spoke above you.

“Are we sure we should bring mon preux chevalier? I mean, naturally we should share their beauty with the world but… in a place filled with criminals..?” Furina spoke in a hushed tone, not wanting you to hear her.

“I understand my Lady, but there is no one to trust to take care of them. Who will give them their favorite treats? Shine their coat? Scratch their tummy? No can do it the way we can, Lady Furina. Besides, we are here for only a Tea Party, it should only last around two hours with the matter we must discuss. Three hours at the latest.” Neuvillette replied. Though in truth, he had just as many issues with the whole situation.

It truly was a shame no one was as capable to take care of their darling Otter as them. *Dramatic sigh in French*

Arriving at the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, the duo were ushered inside and directly into Wriothesley’s office.

“Lady Furina! Monsieur Neuvillette! How nice it is to have you in humble prison. Please, follow me.” Wriothesley smoothly opened the conversation, leading the duo to his tea table. Finally, he noticed the Otter Pack™️.

“*Ahem* I see we have a… guest?” Wriothesley mused. See he hadn’t been on the surface for a bit, and news travels slow beneath the waves, so had had no clue of the big hydro duo’s new friend.

“Yea. This is Le superviseur officiel du jury du palais de justice de Fontaine. La Loutre de l'Opéra Eclipse*.” Neuvillette responded curtly. You chittered happily at the title you had just been given as off the last trial held. And Wriothesley only sweated at the long title.

“I… see. Anyway, if we are ready to begin…” And with that you stopped listening.

You had been here for barely a few minutes and you were already bored. See, usually with Furina, something would be happening. Something spectacular! Or intriguing! Never had you seen her in such a… boring environment. Hell, you could tell she was bored but you supposed that being an Archon came with other bullshit jobs other than being pretty and revered.

You hopped out of the Otter Pack™️ and snuggled up in Neuvillette’s lap, and noticed the extra teacup in front of you. Chittering, you sniffed and licked at it, then curled up once more.

You were trying to hide your boredom, but seemed to be failing as you felt Neuvillette’s fingers comb through the fur on your back. You basically purred at the affection, before sighing. Furina turned to you and called out to you.

“Mon ange? Are you bored? Well I, Furina, have just the cure!~” She said in a sing-songy tune. After, she waved her hand and in a puff of hydro, Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta were summoned.

You jumped up, messing up your hat and allowing Neuvillette to fix it, before the four of you jumped up to play. The three swam around you in the air while you followed quickly on the floor, causing the three to laugh. Though, Neuvillette noticed something.

Now, already he and Furina noticed you were smarter than other Otters, being able to understand human speech. You could solve puzzles, and once you had even helped solve a rather hard case! But this was… something else.

Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta and even Singer of Many Waters could speak… kind of. They had their own little babbly language that only Furina could only understand sometimes, and even then it was rocky. That’s why they mostly acted out their wants and needs with over the top gestures… but you.

An otter.

Could understand them perfectly.

You weren’t the only otter they had been summoned around, but then those otter would run away or stay around in curiosity.

But you could understand everything.

You could understand what a god couldn’t.

And that’s when something inside the Dragon Sovereign clicked.

He had been an avid follower of The Creator. The one Above all. Listening gently to all their false promises of bringing his brethren back. If fixing this world of its problems. He would watch as they only cared for themselves. As they punished anyone who went against them. Punished the innocent. As they lavished in the foods and clothes and jewels bestowed upon them by their followers.

Yet the flowers wouldn’t bloom in their presence. The wind wouldn’t blow gently through their hair. The ground and earth wouldn’t stop its quakes. The water would calm its waves. The lightning wouldn’t slow its descent. The fires wouldn’t lower their flames. The ice wouldn’t smooth over and slow the snow.

In fact, flowers would wilt when around them. The wind would whip into windstorms and the earth would rumble with ferocity. Water would rise to heights uncharted and lightning would strike behind their heels. Flame would rise higher and higher and fill the air with ash and snow would turn to hail, ice turning to sharp points around them.

It was the opposite with their darling Otter. He knew something was… not quite right with them. They always had this feel about them.

The melusine would act weirdly about them. Giving them wider smiles and now that he was thinking about it truly… they seemed to always know what they wanted. Even the Clockwork Meka would bow in their presence. When they swam it was always as though the current would work with them, and fish and other creatures of the sea would always surround them, following behind them… almost like…

A veil.

A veil that matched the one their creator always had on in every art of them.

On any statue.

In any painting.

In any description in every book.

They always had a veil.

And glancing at their beloved otter?

Their blue tuff of fur? They lined their back? Combined with the flowing fabrics of their top hat?

Created a veil.

“Excuse me Wriothesley, me Lady Furina must go discuss something. Please keep an eye on ma moitié for us please.” Neuvillette spoke quickly, gently gripping Furina’s arm as she protested, and they both left the room.

You and the three summons looked at the closing office door, then at Wriothesley. He stared back.

“Uhm… hello there, little otter.”

You only chittered in response.

And as Neuvillette and Furina rounded a corner, the Sovereign pressed a hand to her complaining lips.

“My Lady, firstly, my sincerest apologies for dragging you out here. Secondly, I believe I have made a… shocking discovery about our ˈbābē…” Neuvillette’s voice was hushed, making Furina nervous.

“What.. what do you think you found..?” She asked.

“I believe… our darling Otter… is the true Creator…”

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Hehehehe… How will Furina react to this knowledge? What with Neuvillette do with this information? And will Wriothesley ever get over seeing an Otter so close to his Archon? Tune in next week to find out!~

Anyway, I love this and where it’s going! I haven’t had to write any angst and I feel it coming now! Hehehe ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

* The official Jury Supervisor of the Courthouse of Fontaine . The Otter of the Opera Eclipse

#genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #Otter!Creator #anon <3 #asks <3

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vilevenom · 5 months

Text

This bad boy is dedicated to @em-doods, because her adorable sketches of Hickory and John Dory meandering through the woods 100% are the reason I wrote this. (She also helped push me through a rather rough patch I had while writing the first bit, so a super extra special thank you there!!)

If given the chance I will write Hickory and John Dory getting together in every conceivable fashion. In this fic, they go camping.

Enjoy!!

"I've never been campin'."

"What?!" John stared wide eyed at Hickory, who looked somewhat bashful at his admittance.

"Well, I mean…I've been campin', but not, y'know, camping," Hickory unhelpfully tried to clarify while John Dory continued to stare at him in disbelief. He sighed, scratching at his cheek as he tried to think of a way to better explain himself. "Dickory an' I would need to camp out once in a blue moon, y'know, when we were out on a hunt. But it was never the kinda campin' where you get to roast marshtatoes or go swimmin'. It was just basic survival."

"Well, I can't let that stand," John said, smacking the table they were sat at with gusto, making Hickory jump. "No way. Camping, proper camping, is one of the best experiences in the world! I don't think I can let you go another second without experiencing the wonders of camping."

And that was how Hickory found himself staring out Rhonda's front window as John drove her into wilderness unlike any he'd seen before. The troll kingdoms were beautiful and unique in their own ways, but this place was truly something else. Rhonda ducked under gnarled branches and crawled through twisting vines, with John confidently at her helm, a broad smile on his face as he described to Hickory where he was taking them. The Neverglade trail, apparently, had all of the best camping spots, and he knew just the one that Hickory would enjoy.

Hickory felt like he was going to be sick, though he plastered a pleasant smile onto his face and nodded along every time John glanced at him while he excitedly spoke about where they were headed. It wasn't that Hickory didn't want to go camping with John. Oh, no. It was the exact opposite, really. He'd been looking forward to this trip since John had declared they were going a few days prior. It was the fact that it was just the two of them. Alone. Together. It made Hickory's heart jump into his throat and his palms sweat.

Thinking back on it, Hickory came to realize that he and John Dory had only really known each other for a handful of months. They'd met when Hickory had gone to Pop Village with the intention of visiting Poppy and Branch, only to find the royal couple surrounded by a group of trolls quickly revealed to be their siblings. Swiftly, Hickory had been introduced to all of Branch's brothers, and Poppy's sister, all while beginning to feel a touch overwhelmed by the new mix of personalities. Not quite sure what to say or how to act, Hickory began to flounder, when one of Branch's brothers had tugged him aside with an easy smile.

"We're a lot, huh?"

"I mean, I dunno if I'd say that, exactly," Hickory had started to demure, only to grunt in surprise as John Dory slapped a hand to his back with a guffaw.

"You don't need to be shy, man. We all know we're a lot. Big personalities," John had reassured, sliding his hand up to rest on Hickory's shoulder. "I know you're here to visit with Branch, but how about we get out of here? I happen to know that everyone else will be buggering off here pretty soon, so you'll have a chance for some one on one time with him and Poppy, but probably not for a couple hours. You can show me around town? I assume you've been here before. I've been here for a whopping three days, so I have no idea where anything is."

Hickory hadn't even realized his shoulders had been tense until they began to relax as John spoke to him. He let a slight smile curl his lips and gave a little nod. "Yeah. I can do that," he easily agreed, tucking his thumbs into his belt loops as they began to walk away from the cluster of trolls.

They'd spent the next couple of hours getting to know each other, and, quite frankly, Hickory couldn't help but to be charmed. John Dory was brash and confident in a way that made him laugh, but was also, somehow surprisingly, incredibly kindhearted.

As they were walking through town, a couple of young trollings had dashed in front of them, only for one to trip and fall directly in front of John Dory. Hickory had fully expected John to, perhaps, help the trolling up and for them to continue on their way, but instead he'd crouched down to the child's level to make sure they were okay. When it was revealed that the trolling had a scrape on their knee, John dug into his hair, pulled out a band-aid, and applied it to the injury without batting an eye. Hickory then watched in amusement as John scooped the kid up into his arms and spun around while theatrically wondering where the trolling's friend could have gone. They, of course, had been right behind John, giggling manically as the teal troll continued to spin and pretend he couldn't see them. Finally, he placed the injured child down, and the two all but begged John to go play with them.

"Sorry, I can't. See this guy behind me," John thrust his thumb over his shoulder towards Hickory, who gave them a little wave "He's my tour guide. And I can't just let him go on touring by himself."

The children whined at him while Hickory chuckled at their antics, but John ultimately encouraged them to continue on with their game, which they reluctantly did when it became obvious that John was just this side of too stubborn for them to persuade.

"That was mighty kind of you," Hickory hummed as they began to walk through the village again.

"Hm? Was it? I dunno," John said with a self depreciating little laugh and a shrug of his shoulders, "Just seemed natural to me. But, that probably comes from being the oldest of five. Lots of bumps and scrapes to take care of when they come running to you for comfort."

Hickory decided to side-step the comment about John's brothers going to him, rather than their parents. He was sure there was a story there, but it sounded like one for another time. "So…Yer the oldest brother, huh?"

John snorted, shoving Hickory playfully with an sheepish grin. "Yes. What's it to ya?"

"Not much. Just didn't much figure Branch havin' a silver fox for a siblin'."

"Silver-?! I am NOT that old. Do you see any grey hair here?!" John huffed, puffing out his chest and pulled his goggles up to show off his very teal roots, earning a laugh from Hickory. "If you must know, Branch is about fourteen years younger than me. The rest are all in between."

"Ah, can't remember with yer ancient brain? Ya need help rememberin', old man? I can always go find one of yer brothers, if ya need assistance."

"That is just uncalled for," John sniffed, looking affronted. Hickory worried for a moment that he'd taken a step too far in his teasing, when John snorted and deflated a bit. "I am getting old, aren't I?"

Hickory clicked his tongue, quickly realizing he had hit a nerve, but not the one he'd thought. "John, if I may, an' if my math is right, yer only thirty-eight. That ain't that old," Hickory reassured, offering a warm smile to the teal troll, "Yer only a few years older than I am, an' I certainly ain't old."

"Oh, yeah? And how old is the whipper snapper?" John joked, obviously lightened a bit by Hickory's reassurance.

"Thirty-two."

"Ah, you're between Clay and Floyd," John hummed, though the comment was obviously directed more towards himself.

Their conversation ebbed and flowed easily as they continued to walk through the village, Hickory occasionally pointing out landmarks or buildings he knew, while John Dory made comments here and there about how different the village was from the tree he's grown up in. He also made a point to let Hickory know that he'd obviously need to get another tour through town, what with his poor old memory not being quite what it used to be. Hickory was fairly certain he'd never had such entertaining conversation with another troll.

Eventually, they wandered back to Branch's bunker, where John bid Hickory adieu with a rather ridiculous and dramatic bow before going on his way, while Hickory descended into the bunker to have his intended visit with Branch and Poppy.

Their catching up truthfully didn't get very far before the topic of the royal couple's recent adventure and estranged siblings came up, and Hickory mindlessly blurted out, "So…what's yer brother like?"

"…which one?" Branch said with a snort, arching an eyebrow at the ex-bounty hunter.

"John Dory."

Branch seemed to think for a moment, while Poppy gave Hickory an awkward smile. "He's an obnoxious, self-centered know-it-all."

Hickory blinked, quite taken aback by Branch's opinion of his brother. "Really? I never woulda guessed that by the way he was actin' today…"

"Well, to be honest, he may be my brother, but I don't really know him that well. We haven't seen each other in twenty years, but that's the impression I've gotten of him so far," Branch said with a quiet sigh. "He'll be staying in Pop Village for a while, since Floyd is recovering. Maybe if I give him some time, my opinion will change? But, that's what I've got for now."

Hickory hummed thoughtfully, and decided he would give it some time, as well. He bounced back and forth between Lonesome Flats and Pop Village over the next few months, and never once did John Dory give Hickory the impression of being self-centered, nor did he ever become obnoxious. In fact, he continued to prove the exact opposite. Nearly every time Hickory visited, John was with Branch, Floyd, or both, supporting his younger brothers in whatever they might need. And whenever Hickory made himself known, John offered to make himself scarce so Hickory could visit with Branch unimpeded. Eventually, however, Hickory had to reveal that he'd been intending to visit John the entire time, and that had been something of an awkward chat in and of itself. The sheer surprise that had shown on John's face when Hickory admitted that he wanted to spend more time with John had certainly made his heart twist in an unexpected way.

In the end, the longer Hickory spent with John Dory, the more he seemed to develop a rather inconvenient crush on the teal troll. Especially when he did things as sweet and thoughtful as remembering Hickory had casually mentioned once that he had a soft spot for a particular cupcake made by one particular stand in the market, but he was never early enough to get one. John had presented one to Hickory with a proud little grin on his face the next time the country troll visited. Or the way he obviously thought about Hickory even when they weren't together, as on one occasion when he'd trotted up to Hickory and presented him with a rather fancy looking silver belt buckle emblazoned with intricate little flower patterns. He'd said he'd picked it up in his travels and was going to toss it away, but perhaps Hickory would like it, instead?

Now, most trolls would probably consider such actions to be relatively basic indications of friendship. However, Hickory had had so few friends, or trolls who cared for him (and not a character he and his brother created) that he couldn't help but feel special when John gave him his undivided attention. And he had a sneaking suspicion that John Dory was much the same.

He mentioned the incidents to Poppy and Branch the next time he sat down with them to chat, the former of whom cooed happily at the revelation, while the later gagged quietly.

"I…I think he's got my heart all a flutter. What do I do?" Hickory asked, head in his hands where he sat at Branch's kitchen table. He felt like a little kid, telling his friends about a crush he had on some troll well out of his league. He felt especially foolish that said friend was his crushes younger brother, who was watching him with a wrinkled nose.

"Why are you asking me? At this point, I'm pretty convinced that you know JD better than I do," Branch said with a slight grimace.

"Oh, that's so cute," Poppy gushed, waving her hands at Hickory as he glanced up at her with a long suffering sigh. "Don't give me that look. It is! I've seen you two walking around town together."

"We certainly get along like a house on fire, but I don't know what to do. I haven't done this in a while. Least, not properly," Hickory sighed, slumping onto the table they were sat around.

"I don't know, man. Talk to him about camping? That seems to be one of his favorite things," Branch offered with a shrug. "Maybe that'll help lead the conversation into something?"

And Hickory had, which did indeed lead to this whole escapade in the first place. Perhaps it would allow him the opportunity to talk to the teal troll about his feelings. If he could work up the courage to do so, that is. Especially with the discouraging little voice in the back of his head that kept telling him that if the conversation went south, he was either going to be left in the wilderness on his own, or have a very awkward trip back to Pop Village.

"How much further are we gonna haveta go to get to this mysterious campin' spot a' yers?" Hickory asked, arching an eyebrow as John turned Rhonda down yet another trail.

"Oh, not too much further, I don't think," John hummed with a smile, shooting Hickory a wink that made the ex-bounty hunter need to immediately step away to try and hide the blush that bloomed across his cheeks.

They drove in relative silence for a few more minutes, before John finally pulled Rhonda over, and Hickory managed to calm himself down enough that his cheeks were no longer enflamed.

"Here we are!" John declared, as he spun the drivers seat around to grin widely at Hickory, who offered a slightly mollified one of his own. "Now, grab your gear, we've got a bit of a hike."

"Wait, this isn't where we're campin'?" Hickory asked, watching John pull an overstuffed backpack with a sleeping roll tied to it from atop his loft bed.

"What? No, of course not. You can't get a full and proper camping experience if we're staying in Rhonda. That's, like…'glamping', or whatever. No, if you want a proper camping trip, we gotta hike a bit further in and set up tents!" John exclaimed excitedly, pulling the straps of his bag over his shoulders.

"If ya say so," Hickory said with an awkward chuckle, grabbing his much smaller bag and sleeping roll from where he'd stashed them and following John out of Rhonda.

"Now, you be a good girl," John cooed at Rhonda as Hickory stepped up behind him, "There are lots of berry bushes here, so there's loads to eat. You make sure you're back here in a couple of days, okay?" Hickory watched in amusement as John half wrapped himself around the armadillo bus's face in the closest approximation of a hug as he could get as she churred at him happily.

"Y'sure it's okay t' just leave her here?" Hickory asked as they began to walk away, the ex-bounty hunter shooting Rhonda furtive glances the further away from her they got.

"Oh, yeah. She's a good girl. Even if she's not there when we get back, she usually comes when I call, or we'll just need to wait a day or two when we get back," John reassured, as Hickory watched the energetic bus dart off into some bushes.

"…right."

And so on they went, Hickory diligently following along behind John, until he inevitably got distracted by the massive trees and flora they were hiking past. To the rather unfortunate point where John disappeared beyond a bend before Hickory had even realized he'd been left behind.

"Hey, John, have ya ever-" he'd begun as he turned from staring at a large, drooping orange flower, only to find himself completely alone. "…John?" Hickory tentatively took a few steps forward, glancing this way and that to see if he could spot the teal troll, without luck. "Sugar," he grumbled to himself, unsure if he should proceed forward, or wait to see if John would notice his absence and turn back around to find him.

Just as he turned to sit himself beneath the flower he'd gotten distracted by, a rustling in the bush startled him into pulling a knife from his pocket and brandishing it with a snarl on his face. John had warned him, at one point on their drive here, that wild critters of all shapes and sizes roamed the Neverglades, and that he should be wary of being snuck up on, lest he be eaten. John had said it like it was a joke, but Hickory had noticed the scars John's fur hadn't quite fully grown over. He had no doubt there were plenty of critters who would like nothing more than to get a taste of troll out here, and he was not eager to give them said taste.

So, he stood his ground and waited, until finally John Dory came stumbling out of the brush, leg half tangled in a bramble.

"There you are!" John laughed, shaking the bramble off his leg as Hickory quickly tucked his knife back away, "I turned around to point out some funky looking moss and you were gone."

"Sorry 'bout that. Got caught up admirin' this here flower," Hickory admitted abashedly, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder.

"No worries, man! Just gotta make sure I keep a better eye on you," John chuckled, reaching out and unexpectedly taking Hickory's hand. The country troll felt his cheeks heat up, but luckily John had turned to start tugging him along down the trail, and so missed it entirely. "Don't want you getting lost on me!"

"No, no. Don't wanna get lost," Hickory muttered mostly to himself, his gaze stuck pretty strictly on their clasped hands now, rather than the gorgeous scenery they were walking past. Occasionally John would point something out to Hickory, which would pull the country trolls gaze up for a short period of time, before inevitably trailing back down to their hands.

John didn't let go until they reached a rocky path that lead up what most creatures would probably consider a small foot hill, but was nearly the equivalent of a mountain to the two trolls. The path wound up along the side of the hill, and was only just wide enough for them to walk up one at a time. Hickory did his best to hide his disappointment as John let him go and began to trek up the hillside.

"C'mon! If we're where I think we are, there's a great spot at the top of the hill where we can stop and have lunch," John said, glancing back at Hickory with a bright grin.

"Alright, I'mma comin'," Hickory chuckled, shifting the pack on his shoulders and following along after John.

The two managed to make it about halfway up the hill when they came across a slightly wider spot on the trail, overlooking a rather picturesque little area of the Neverglades.

"Too bad there's not more of a plateau here," John lamented as Hickory stopped next to him, "This would be a great spot to stop for lunch."

"Yeah. S'real pretty," Hickory hummed, turning to look out at the view.

"Wish I'd brought my camera," John added with a despondent sigh, "But I left it in Rhonda."

"Well, ain't that just lucky for you, then," Hickory said with a smile, reaching over his shoulder into his pack, "Because I just so happen to have brought one along." He pulled a little instant camera out of his bag and handed it to John, who snatched it eagerly.

"Awesome! Say cheese," John said with a grin, holding the camera out in front of the two and snapping a photo. Hickory blinked at the flash that went off, trying to get rid of the little flare in his vision.

"Some warnin' woulda been nice," he groused quietly, rubbing at his eyes.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't have gotten such a great candid shot," John hummed, pulling the photo free of the camera and waving it slightly. He snorted once the image developed, holding it out to Hickory. "See? Perfect moment."

Hickory wrinkled his nose at the photo, which showed a happily grinning John and Hickory looking like he was, perhaps, about to sneeze. "Yeah. Real flatterin'," he muttered, reaching for the photo.

"Hey now, nuh-uh," John said quickly, pulling the photo back to hold against his chest, before quickly stuffing it into his hair, "This one's mine."

"Aw, come on, now," Hickory grumped, reaching for John's hair, "We can take a better one. You don't need t' keep that."

"No," John quickly took a step back, while shoving the camera into his hair as well, "I like it. It's mine, and you can't have it."

"Don't be childish, John," Hickory sighed, reaching for the teal trolls hair again as John quickly took another step back and snorted.

"Have you met me? I'm the least childish troll out there."

"Mhmm, you keep tellin' yerself that," Hickory chuckled, taking another step after John, only for both of them to freeze at a rather ominous cracking sound that emanated around them. "What was-" Hickory barely managed to get the words out, before he felt his foot beginning to sink as the path beneath him began to give way, and the sound of tumbling rocks hit his ears.

"Hickory!"

The ex-bounty hunter gasped as his footing slipped, quickly scrambling for John's reaching hands. The teal troll had his hair wrapped around some roots that were sticking out of the side of the hill, anchoring him as he grabbed for Hickory as he began to fall.

"I gotcha, I gotcha," John chanted as Hickory managed to grab hold of him, using his hair to pull them both away from the crumbling section of path. Once they were both on a more stable spot, Hickory opened his eyes, which he hadn't even realized he'd clenched shut, to find himself practically nose to nose with John Dory, both of them panting like they'd just run a mile.

"You okay?" John quietly asked after a beat, grip still tight on Hickory as he stared up at him.

"Bit shaken up, but I think I'll be right as rain here right quick," Hickory murmured back, glad that the adrenaline of his near death experience and lack of breath were more than enough excuse for how dark his cheeks must be from their proximity. If he just moved his head ever so slightly, he could kiss John Dory right then and there.

"Good," John's voice shattered Hickory's momentary daydream, a short pat on his shoulder telling Hickory to move away. Which he did, taking a quick step back to give John space. "I think we're close to the top now. I'd definitely say we earned our lunch."

Hickory let out a little laugh, hoping it didn't come off as nervous or anxious. "Well, you certainly did," he said, following after John, "All I did was nearly fall down the hill."

"Yeah, but you didn't," John said, glancing briefly back at Hickory, "Doesn't that also deserve celebration?"

Hickory smiled to himself as he followed after John, mentally telling his heart to shut up as it did a little summersault in his chest at John's words.

They reached the summit of the hill rather quickly after that, not stopping until they knew they were on completely stable ground, neither wanting to risk a repeat incident.

"Here we go," John sighed as they reached the top, swinging his bag off his back, "This looks like a great spot to stop for a bit."

Hickory let out a little whistle as he also set his bag on the ground, turning in a small circle to take in the views. "It's a mighty nice spot, that's for certain," he hummed, only turning back to John when he heard the tell-tale click of his camera. He snorted a quiet laugh, arching an eyebrow at John as he pulled the photo from the camera and began to wave it in the air. "Whatcha got there?"

"Memories," John stated, a little smile curling his lips as the photo developed.

Hickory felt his heart skip a beat at the look on John's face, before he cleared his throat and stepped over to take a look at the snap shot. It was a bit of an odd angle, obviously taken hastily while Hickory had his back turned, but it was a nice photo all the same. The rolling hills and vast trails stretching out into the distance could be easily seen just past Hickory's shoulder.

"S'not a bad shot," the ex-bounty hunter hummed, reaching for the photo, only to find it disappearing into John's hair to join the previous one.

"Sure is," John said with a cheeky grin, before turning to start pulling a blanket and some food from his bag.

"Cheeky," Hickory laughed, joining John on the blanket once he had it all rolled out.

They ate in relative silence for a bit, simply enjoying each others company and the view, until the camera came back out of John's hair.

"I regret givin' that thing to ya," Hickory snorted after John snapped a photo of him while he was about to take a bite of his sandwich.

"You can't blame me for wanting to document your first camping trip," John said, sticking his tongue out at Hickory, who simply rolled his eyes and continued to eat, "It's a big deal, y'know. You're trying to start fresh, try new things, be a different troll from who you once were. Taking these baby steps, even just going on a camping trip for fun, it's a lot. You said it's something you've never done before, right? You should have something to remember it by."

Hickory stared at John for a long moment, a slow smile working its way across his face. "Why, that's real sweet of you, Johnny." His smile widened into a cheshire grin as as he watched John's cheeks darken at his comment.

"Shut up," John grunted, a smile betraying his grumpy tone as he flicked a small rock at Hickory, who easily dodged it with a laugh.

They finished up their meal while chatting amicably about the trail thus far, with John animatedly regaling Hickory with stories about the first time he came up this way, long before he'd had Rhonda. He admitted it was part of the reason he'd wanted to bring Hickory to this particular spot, as it held a certain amount of nostalgia for him, since it'd been one of the first spots he'd stopped while exploring the trails.

"Ya certainly do got a lot of good memories out here, dontcha?" Hickory hummed as they packed up their bags, a soft little smile on his face as he listened to John hum to himself while retying his bag shut.

"Sure do," John chirped, before pulling the camera from his hair again and walking over to Hickory.

"Aw, what now?" Hickory snorted, somewhat wary of the camera, now that he knew John was going to take every opportunity he could to snap unflattering photos of him.

"Nothing. Come here," John said, turning Hickory so his back was to the view. He opened his mouth to protest as John stole his cowboy hat and set it aside, only to snap it closed as John wrapped an arm around his shoulder and tugged him down into his shoulder. "There. Plenty of warning this time," John chuckled, cheek practically pressed to Hickory's, "Say 'cheese'!" He held the camera up and the flash went off. Hickory blinked to get ride of the afterimage, rubbing at his eye in mild irritation as John pulled the photo from the camera. "Nice," the teal troll hummed, a warm smile curling his lips. After a moment he offered it to Hickory. "You can have this one, if you want."

Hickory took the photo with mild suspicion, knowing full well the caliber of photo John had been taking thus far, only to be pleasantly surprised by what he saw. John was grinning widely in the photo, his arm blocking the lower left corner of the frame, while Hickory looked a little dazed, with a slightly crooked smile on his own face, and his cheek squished against John's. In the background over John's shoulder the spectacular view from the top of the hill could be seen, with the sunlight speckled across the trees at just the right angle.

Hickory was pulled from his admiration of the photo by John chuckling practically in his ear, just over his shoulder, pack already strapped to his back and bouncing on his toes. "You struck speechless by my excellent photography skills?"

"Somethin' like that," Hickory said with a quiet laugh, carefully tucking the photo into the inside pocket of his vest before scooping his hat up from where John had set it and slinging his pack over his shoulder. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

The trek down from the hilltop was far less perilous than the trip up had been. To Hickory's great disappointment, John did not take his hand again once they'd reached the bottom, and in what felt like no time at all, John lead them to what he declared would be their camp site. It was a rather sizeable clearing, with bushes and tall grass most of the way around it, with only two trails leading away from it, aside from the one they'd come down to reach it. John explained that one lead to a little lake they could go swimming in, while the other lead further into the Neverglades.

"Alright," John declared, dropping his pack onto the ground with a thump, "Did you bring a tent?"

Hickory flushed, setting his own bag down more gingerly. "'Fraid not. Not gonna lie, I thought we'd be stayin' with Rhonda," the country troll admitted, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "But, it wouldn't be the first time I've slept under the stars, so I'll be just fine."

John scoffed, rolling his eyes as he began to unpack his bag, tossing tent pegs and ropes onto the ground in front of him. "Don't be ridiculous. My tent is plenty big enough for two. Besides, you never know what critter might come across camp in the middle of the night. A tent gives us at least a bit of cover."

"Ah," Hickory's brain froze for a moment, the idea of being tucked up close to John in a tent sending a little shiver down his spine. "Uh, yeah," he cleared his throat, ducking his head so the brim of his hat would hopefully hide the blush that was yet again creeping across his cheeks, "Yeah, that'd be right as rain."

"Good," John grunted, pulling folded up tent poles from his bag, "Well, since that's settled, how about you start setting up a spot for the fire while I put up the tent?"

"Sure thing," Hickory said with a quick nod, turning to wander around the camp site to pick up some stones to mark a space for a small fire pit. He paused and glanced up when he heard the soft, tell-tale sound of a pile of fabric hitting the ground, fully expecting John to have tossed the tent from his bag, ready to offer his help once again, only to bite his tongue at the realization that it was his jacket that John had tossed aside. The teal troll was busy setting up the tent poles, a little frown of concentration on his face while he worked, completely unaware of Hickory staring at him from across the clearing. "Sugar," Hickory breathed, jerking into motion quickly as John glanced at him from where he was working.

"Hey, how about, after this, we go for a swim."

"A swim?" Hickory echoed, tucking a rock into the small collection in his arm while turning to arch an eyebrow at John, only to nearly drop them all at being presented with John leaning against one of the erected tent poles, a little smirk on his face and sweat beading on his brow.

"Yeah! It's kinda humid today, and setting up this tent is making me sweaty. I think a pre-dinner swim would be nice, don't you?" John said with a little laugh, shoving himself off the pole to start gathering the fabric of the tent up from the ground. "Work up a bit of an appetite before we eat."

Hickory swallowed thickly as John tossed the fabric over the tent frame he'd set up, his brain taking a moment to catch up to what was being said to him. "Oh! Yeah! Yeah, that'd be a right fine idea," he agreed, shaking his head quickly to try and get his mind off of the sweaty, half naked troll across from him. "C'mon, Hickory. Get yer act together," he grumbled to himself, walking to a spot he thought would be good for the fire and dropping his collection of rocks.

"I think you might be too close to the tents."

"Sugar, honey an' iced tea!" Hickory exclaimed, whipping his head in John Dory's direction, who grinned sheepishly at him.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to catch you off guard. What's got your head in the clouds, anyway?" John asked, propping his hands on his hips and tilting his head at Hickory, reminding the country troll of a particularly adorable cuddle pup.

"Ah, y'know, just , uh, doin' a mental checklist. Tryin' to remember if I brought my swim gear," Hickory offered with an awkward little laugh. "Sorry. What were ya sayin'?"

"Even if you forgot yours, you can always borrow mine. I don't mind swimming in my regular shorts," John offered with an easy smile, "And I was just saying that I think where you're setting up the fire might be too close to the tents."

Hickory looked between where John had most of the tent set up, barring the tent pegs being hammered into the ground, and the pile of rocks he'd dropped on the ground to find that he was, indeed, just a bit too close. One good breeze in the wrong direction could carry embers onto the fabric. "Oh. Beggin' yer pardon," the country troll apologized quickly, bending to pick the rocks back up, "I really was too lost in my own head just then, wasn't I?"

"Hey, happens to the best of us," John laughed, shrugging a bit. "Just move it a bit over there," he gestured vaguely away from the tent, "And it should be fine. I think I saw a decently sized stick over there, too. We can move it into the clearing to sit on later, by the fire."

Hickory nodded, dropping his rocks where John had gestured. "This whole campin' for fun thing is turnin' out to be a lot like campin' for survival," he noted, arching an amused eyebrow at John who snorted and trotted back over to the tent.

"Set up is always a pain. Same with take down. But all of the in between is great," John shot Hickory a charming smile, completely unaware of how it made the ex-bunty hunters heart flutter, before crouching down to hammer in the tent pegs. "Just you wait!"

"Sounds like a plan," Hickory muttered, though he very much doubted he was heard over the sound of the hammer. Which was probably for the best, as he had to shake himself out of staring after the teal troll once again.

In relative short order, Hickory set up his little circle of rocks while John finished up with the tent pegs. He then shoved his way through the brush surrounding the clearing to see about gathering up some wood for the fire they would be building when they got back from swimming. He deposited his selection of twigs, sticks and bark next to his rock circle once he figured he had enough for the night, just as John finished tying off a large tarp above where he'd finished setting up the tent.

"Y'all set?" Hickory asked, trotting up to John as the teal troll wiped his brow with the back of his hand, dislodging his goggles so they sat askew on his head.

"I think so. We're looking pretty good!" John chirped, grinning up at Hickory.

"I'd say so," Hickory agreed easily with a quiet little laugh, reaching out to fix John's crooked goggles. John looked startled by the gesture, Hickory barely catching a glimpse of a dark flush creeping over John's cheeks before the teal troll turned away from him once his hands dropped away. He took a quick step back, watching as John swiftly moved across the campsite to dig into his bag. Intrigued by the reaction, Hickory made a mental note about it for later.

"Did you bring your trunks?" John's voice snapped Hickory back to reality.

"Pretty sure," Hickory hummed, shuffling over to his bag to dig into it and pull out his swim shorts.

"Great! Then get changed, and we'll head down to the water," John said, staring at Hickory expectantly.

Hickory stared right back, slowly arching an eyebrow at the teal troll. "You gonna stare at me the whole time I'm changin', or just for the first little bit?" He snorted quietly as John's face lit up as he turned on his heel to face away from Hickory. The ex-bounty hunter shook his head with a quiet laugh, setting his hat aside and quickly changing into his swim trunks. He then dug into his bag and pulled out the beach towel he'd packed, draping it over his shoulders as he cleared his throat. "All set. You gonna change, too?"

"Nah," John hummed, glancing at Hickory over his shoulder, though he did pull off his goggles and glove to toss them into the tent. "I'm just gonna go as is. These shorts are already sweaty and dirty, may as well sorta wash 'em by swimming with them on."

"All right," Hickory chuckled, stepping up next to John, "Lead the way, then."

And so John did, after grabbing his own towel from his belongings. The path down to the lake was relatively short and straight forward, but John seemed to take pride in leading Hickory around, so he diligently followed along with an indulgent smile on his face. The lake itself was relatively small, as John had already mentioned, but that didn't make it any less picturesque than the rest of the Neverglades had been thus far. The shores were soft slopes of jutting rock and densely packed dirt, surrounded by drooping trees with their branches and leaves barely grazing the water, causing little ripples every time the wind blew. Early evening sunlight was dappled across the surface of the lake, making it sparkle.

"My," Hickory breathed, almost feeling like he shouldn't be there. Like he was intruding on sacred ground.

"It's real pretty, isn't it?" John hummed quietly next to him, "Almost makes you not want to swim."

Hickory opened his mouth to agree with the sentiment, only to jump slightly as John let out a whoop of a shout while tossing his towel aside, before running towards the water. Hickory couldn't contain his laughter as John jumped from the shore as he reached the waters edge, canon balling into the lake with a large splash.

"Well, that's one way to do it, I s'pose," Hickory chuckled to himself, tossing his towel next to John's. He let out a shout of his own once John surfaced further out into the lake, running and tossing himself into the water with gusto. He surfaced to the sound of John's laughter, followed shortly by a splash of water to the face. "Hey now," he laughed, returning the splash blindly, figuring he'd hit his target based on the sound of John sputtering. He wiped water from his face and grinned at finding John coughing and blinking water from his eyes. "That's what ya get for tryin' a sneak attack," Hickory stated, self satisfied smirk on his face.

"I'll show you sneak attack," John grumbled to himself, before launching himself through the water at Hickory with a yell. Hickory let out a startled shout in response, flailing rather uselessly in the water before John tackled him around the chest and dragged him under the surface.

The two tussled in the water like that for some time, with John using any means necessary to try and catch Hickory off guard as they swam back and forth across the lake, waging war with sweeping splashes. Hickory finally called it quits when John tried to use a handful of slimy lake weeds to retaliate against Hickory for managing to dunk him underwater.

"All right, I'm think I'm done," the country troll sighed, pulling an especially long piece of weed from his hair and tossing it aside.

"Aww, but we haven't even been out here that long," John practically pouted, earning a fond smile form Hickory.

"Never said we had to go back. Just that I think the war is over," Hickory hummed, kicking his feet off the bottom of the lake to float on his back. He watched John continue to pout for a minute out of the corner of his eye, before the teal troll began to swim towards the shore. "Where are ya goin'?" he called, turning to tread water with a small frown on his face.

"If you're done," John called back, walking up onto the shore, running fingers through his water logged locks, "I'm gonna work on my canon balls."

Hickory was quite certain that John had no idea the kind of sight he made as he trotted along the lakeside, looking for a good spot to use as a pseudo-diving board. He kept absently running his fingers though his hair, which supplied a steady supply of water droplets that cascaded down over his torso, which Hickory had to fight with every fiber of his being not to watch as they made their way down to the ground. The country troll had never been so happy to be submerged in water as he was just then, letting himself sink so his nose was barely above the surface as he watched John Dory pause at a particularly large rock and nod to himself. The teal troll climbed up onto it and shot Hickory a winning grin once he was at the top, waving enthusiastically, before letting out a bellow and tossing himself into the water. He was completely, stupidly endearing and Hickory knew that if he didn't say something by the end of this trip, he might just go insane.

John continued his cycle of climbing out of the water and jumping enthusiastically back in for some time, Hickory not even noticing that the sun had began to set with how enraptured he was with watching. That was, until the teal troll finally scooped his towel up from the ground instead of running off to his chosen diving rock.

"Hey, it's getting late," John called out to him, gesturing that he should swim to shore, "We should probably go get started on the fire and make some dinner."

"Oh! Right. Dinner," Hickory muttered to himself, before he began to swim back to shore, shivering as he climbed out of the water and a cool breeze swept across the lake.

"C'mon. We'll get a nice big fire going, and get you toasty warm," John said with an easy smile, handing Hickory his towel.

Hickory bit his tongue to keep himself from saying something stupid like 'Or you could warm me up', and instead murmured a quiet thanks as he took his towel and rubbed at his sopping hair.

"I brought some classic camping food," John hummed as he began to lead the way back up to their campsite, Hickory hot on his heels, "Hotdogs to roast over the fire, and marshtatoes for later!"

"Sounds swell," Hickory said with a little nod, draping his towel over his shoulders as they reached the campsite. "By the by, where did ya say that stick was? The one we could use as a bench near the fire?"

"Right! We should move that first," John said as he snapped his fingers, and pointed towards a patch of grass near the tent.

Moving the stick was only a small struggle when they discovered it was actually much larger than they had anticipated, as part of it was buried in the dirt. Luckily, what Hickory lacked in tenting supplies, he made up for in random assorted other items that John, apparently, neglected to bring along. Such as a hatchet. He made rather quick work of hacking into the stick and cutting off the portion John had indicated would make good seating, and if he happened to flex a bit more than he normally would because he caught John watching out of the corner of his eye, well, who could blame him?

The two of them managed to drag the end of the stick over to the little circle of rocks without much trouble after that, and Hickory promptly dropped himself onto it once it was settled where John thought would be the best spot.

"Gonna need to go for another swim, after that," the ex-bounty hunter joked, kicking his feet out in front of himself as John crouched next to the rocks and began to set up the bits of bark Hickory had gathered.

"If there are enough glow flies in the area we can go for a night swim, if you want," John muttered, half distracted as he struck a match and lit the kindling he'd set up. Gently, he blew into the small pile of bark and twigs until the flames began to grow, a proud little smile on his face as he slowly fed twigs into it until it was large enough that he could put a couple of the larger sticks on. Once it seemed like he thought the fire wouldn't need to be babied further he stood with a pop of his knees and a crack of his back, a low groan leaving him as Hickory winced in sympathy.

"That sounded like it hurt," Hickory commented idly as John dropped onto the stick next to him with a grunt.

"Don't get old," John joked, laughing as Hickory shoved him lightly.

"I'll remind ya, since yer memory's apparently goin', that I'm only a few years younger than ya. Yer knees ain't the only ones that make noise when ya stand up," Hickory said as he rolled his eyes. "Anyhow, d'ya really reckon we could go swimmin' at night? Y'don't think that'd be dangerous, with all the critters roamin' around?"

John shrugged, watching the flames as their fire slowly grew. "I mean, I don't see why not. Like I said, there just needs to be enough glow flies so we can see. The stars out here are pretty bright, but it's better if there are glow flies. They're a really good, obvious, first alert system if something is close by."

"Cause they'll fly away," Hickory hummed with a nod, "Smart."

"Yeah. It's something my dad taught me, a long time ago," John sighed wistfully, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees, his gaze distant. Hickory took that as his queue to go and fetch the hotdogs from John's bag, as well as grabbing a couple of sticks from their little stash to spear the hotdogs with.

"Here," Hickory gently nudged John in the shoulder with his own, offering the teal troll one of the sharpened sticks as John visibly blinked himself back into reality.

"Oh! Thanks," John chuckled, gingerly taking the stick from Hickory, "Sorry. Sort of zoned out there. Didn't mean to get so lost in thought."

"It's alright," Hickory said with a small shrug, cutting open the package of hotdogs to spear one on the end of his stick, "Happens to the best of us. Mind if I ask what ya were thinkin' 'about?"

"Just family junk," John offered with a little shrug of his shoulders, taking a hotdog of his own and stabbing it a bit more violently than strictly necessary.

"I assume 'bout yer dad?"

John clicked his tongue, a wry little smile turning the corner of his lips. "Yeah. A bit. More about my brothers, though, I guess. I never did this with any of them," he gestured vaguely at their campsite. "I got to go camping once with my dad, and he taught me loads. But none of my brothers got to. And then things just sort of got crazy out of hand, and I never got to take any of them." He paused, sitting up and shooting Hickory an apologetic smile. "Sorry. This is supposed to be a fun trip, you don't need me babbling about family drama."

"I don't mind," Hickory reassured, gently resting his free hand on John's elbow, "Don't got much family, myself, aside from my older brother, an' that's a whole can a' worms on it's own…But, I don't mind hearin' 'bout other folks family. If ya need someone with a willin' ear, I'm always here."

John turned his head to look at Hickory, his gaze almost searching as his brow furrowed slightly. "That means a lot," he murmured, shifting so he could take the hand on his elbow into his own, entwining their fingers together. "I really…I really like talking to you, Hickory. I know we haven't known each other that long, but you mean a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me, too, Johnny."

John seemed to think for a moment, watching Hickory intently, before he leaned down to prop his stick between two of the rocks around their fire. He then took Hickory's and did the same with it, before turning sideways on their make-shift bench and taking Hickory's hands in his own. He visibly swallowed, thumbs brushing the backs of Hickory's hands, which sent little shivers up the country's trolls spine.

"You okay, John?" Hickory asked, leaning forward slightly with a concerned frown.

"Can I kiss you?"

It was said so quietly Hickory thought, perhaps, he was hearing things. "Pardon?"

John flushed, his ears drooping slightly as he gave Hickory's hands a little squeeze. "Can I kiss you?" he repeated a little louder, gaze fixed on their hands. "I might've been reading you wrong, but I think…I think you want to kiss me, too? It's okay, if you don't. I won't be offended, and we can pretend this never happened, I just…" He lifted his gaze, letting out a little breath, "I really want to kiss you."

"John Dory," Hickory stated, tugging John's hands closer so the teal troll was forced to lean further towards him, "If ya don't kiss me right this instant, I will be madder than a wet hen."

"Can't have that," John chuckled, before tilting his head and pressing his lips to Hickory's.

It was like pop rocks were poured down Hickory's spine, little tingles igniting what felt like every nerve ending as John shifted closer on their little bench so he could kiss the country troll more deeply. Their hands parted from each other, only to slide into hair and cling to shoulders, earning little shivers and soft sighs each time their lips parted for a moment for air.

"C'mon," John breathed after a time that Hickory's mind could hardly fathom, though the world was distinctly darker than it was before he got lost in John's lips. John stood, a hand outstretched towards Hickory in offering.

Hickory took it without hesitation, letting John lead him to their tent, anticipation twisting in his gut, their dinner and plans of swimming long forgotten.

When Hickory woke the next morning, it was to a tent distinctly devoid of John Dory. Groggily, he rubbed at his face as he sat up and looked around, finding what he assumed was John's silhouette on the outside of the tent, puttering around their campsite. He grunted as he shoved away the blankets he'd gotten tangled up in during the night and somehow managed to locate his pants and belt, tugging them on quickly before he stumbled into the morning light.

"Good morning!" John's voice was chipper and loud, making Hickory cringe slightly as he finger combed his hair.

"Mornin'," the country troll drawled, squinting against the sun until he found his hat and tugged it on, letting out a contented little sigh. He turned to find John Dory hovering over the fire, poking at what appeared to be eggs cooking on top of a flat stone. "Yer up mighty early."

"Habit," John said with a shrug, "Once the sun is up, I'm up."

"Disgusting," Hickory snorted, earning a light laugh from John.

"Yeah, well, can't be helped," John hummed, grabbed a large leaf and scooping one of the eggs from the stone onto it with a knife. "Forgot to bring plates, so you're going to have to deal with eating off a leaf with your fingers."

Hickory took the leaf happily, trotting over to their stick bench and sitting down. "I think I can live with that."

"Good, 'cause there wasn't much in terms of other options," John snorted, taking up his own leaf and egg before knocking the flat rock off the fire and walking over to the stick to sit as well.

They ate their breakfast quietly, John staring off into the fire, while Hickory let his eyes drift shut, smiling slightly to himself as he let the early morning sounds of the forest wash over him. He felt peaceful and calm, a warm little ember in his chest growing steadily at the knowledge that the troll his heart chose to beat wildly for was sat next to him and felt the same. Or, so he assumed.

"Hickory," John's quiet but serious tone shattered the tranquility of the forest, and drew Hickory from his revere. He blinked and turned his gaze towards John, who was still staring intently into the fire.

"What is it?"

"About last night…"

Hickory frowned, his posture stiffening at the words John spoke. He had to force his fingers to not tremble around the leaf he held. "What about it?"

"It doesn't-…Look, I know I dragged you all the way out here, and I'm your only way home, so just in case," John rambled, speaking without taking a breath, "It doesn't have to mean anything. We don't…If you felt obligated, I'm sorry. We can pretend nothing happened and go home right now, if you want."

Hickory stared John down, absentmindedly crushing the leaf in his hands. "Ya think I'd feel obligated to sleep with ya, just because we're out in the woods?"

"I mean," John flushed, looking up at Hickory, anxiety clear as day on his face, "…maybe?"

"I would sooner stab any troll that tried somethin' that I didn't want, then go willingly off to their tent," Hickory practically growled, before taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, listening as John shifted and squirmed on the stick next to him. "I ain't mad," he said after a beat, letting out another breath.

"You sound like it."

"Only 'cause you implied I was easy."

"Sorry."

Hickory opened his eyes, taking one last deep breath in, before turning his gaze to John once again, arching an eyebrow at finding the teal troll practically curled in on himself in his seat. "This been buggin' ya for a while?"

"I couldn't sleep," John admitted, and upon closer inspection Hickory could see the bags under John's eyes.

Hickory sighed quietly, letting his irritation slowly seep out of him. He reached out, his heart twisting as John flinched slightly at the movement. "I ain't gonna hurt you," he reassured, gently taking one of John's hands in his own, "I'd never hurt ya. John…I was so happy, last night, when ya said ya wanted to kiss me. I've been wantin' to do that for quite a while. Just didn't quite know how to go about sayin' anythin'. I like you, John Dory. A whole lot."

John's posture loosened as Hickory spoke, his hunched position straightening as he unconsciously leaned in towards the country troll. "Really?" he breathed, and Hickory could almost describe his expression as being starstruck.

"I don't have a tendency to say things I don't mean."

Hickory let a crooked little smile settle on his face as John slowly shifted closer to him, turning slightly so he could wrap both of his hands around Hickory's. "I'm so sorry. For thinking I'd taken advantage of you. For implying you would do anything you didn't feel comfortable with. I just thought that, if you didn't want it, or felt bad for me or something-"

Hickory cut him off with a snort of a laugh, shaking his head slightly. "Why on this green earth do you think I would feel bad for ya?"

John blinked, tilting his head slightly. "Uh…'cause I'm a washed up ex-boyband member with a laundry list of family trauma issues and no friends?"

"Who's also mighty handsome, talented, a skilled survivalist, and who seems to be completely blind to the admirers that watch 'im every time he goes to the market?"

"…You think I'm handsome?"

"Not the take away ya should be focusing on here, Johnny," Hickory snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry. Go on."

Hickory chuckled, cupping John's cheek in his free hand. "You think pretty little of yerself, an' that's a real shame. I wish ya could see yerself the way I do."

"And how's that?"

"Like a shootin' star in the night sky. So beautiful an' bright, but burnin' out so fast most folks can't appreciate ya for yer true magnificence," Hickory hummed, enjoying the way John's cheeks darkened, just before he gently tugged the teal troll into a kiss.

They parted with a quiet gasp between the two of them, John looking a bit dazed.

"So…you're my boyfriend now, right?" John asked bluntly after a beat, earning a surprised burst of laughter from Hickory.

"You bet yer bottom dollar, playboy."

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls world tour #trolls hickory #trolls john dory #hickdory #trolls fanfic #things that i wrote

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starryevermore · 6 months

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the house of snow (15) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: you cannot seem to stay away.

word count: 1,443

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: another shorter chapter im so sorry, pet name (petal), not proofread

The Snow family cottage was beautiful. It looked like it had been plucked straight out of a storybook. The cobblestone walls, the window boxes overflowing with flowers, the ivy growing up the side of the house—all of it was gorgeous. Though you loved your life in the Capitol, a part of you would be content to live here forever and you hadn’t even seen the inside yet.

“It was a wedding gift from my father to my mother,” Coriolanus said as he walked you up the stone path. “She always preferred the quiet. She would often come here just to escape the noise of the Capitol.”

“Your father must have loved your mother very much,” you said. To build an entire cottage as a wedding gift? You wondered how long it took. Buildings could be erected quite quickly in the Capitol due to all of the resources being sent straight there. But even then, there could be delays when things were not so readily available. How long had it taken to bring everything out to the countryside?

“They had a long courtship, so he could have the cottage ready by the time they wed,” Coriolanus continued. “In the end, it was worth it to him if only because it was where she chose to have her children.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “She…” you tried to ask, but the words didn’t sound right. It sounded too insensitive to even try.

“It was the one place that reminded her of my father that had been left untainted by the war,” he said. “I hated this place for so long because it felt like it took her from me. As I grew older, I began to appreciate that at least, through the pain, she felt some amount of peace.” He glanced at you as if to see your reaction. “I hope to make some better memories here with you. If that is alright.”

You swallowed. Oh, why did he have to be so sweet? To share his pain with you, to be so vulnerable…Fuck. Did he do this just so he could confuse your thoughts even more? Or was he being genuine? “I can try,” you offered.

The corner of Snow’s mouth quirked up. You wanted to kiss it. “Thank you, petal. That is all that I ask.”

But is it all that you will ever ask? you wanted to say. What if you disappointed him? What if you could not provide him with the love he wanted from you? What happens then?

Instead, you offered a small smile. “Can we go inside? I’m quite hungry after our journey.”

Coriolanus smiled, too, and led you in. It almost felt like you were being taken straight into the lion’s den. You pushed the thought from your mind. You told him you would try. Maybe you couldn’t make better memories for him here, but maybe you could try to understand him. Maybe, away from the Capitol, you could look between Coriolanus from the Academy and the Coryo you’ve come to know and find the true man laying inside.

You reached for his hand, and gave it a squeeze.

After lunch, Coriolanus allowed you your space. He gave you leave to pick which room you would like to stay in over the course of the your honeymoon, showed you where he would stay, and other points of interest in the cottage. Then he disappeared into his study, leaving you to do as you pleased.

A part of you ached as he left. It had been what you wanted—distance to figure things out on your own. To determine how much you cared about Coriolanus without his presence influencing your thoughts. But you had so much time with him in recent weeks, had gotten to experience him so intimately, that for him to leave you be…It felt wrong. It felt like he took a part of you with him. You swallowed your self-inflicted hurt, though, took a book from the library, and retreated into the gardens.

Still, as you sat among the grand rose bushes that seemed to follow the Snows wherever they go, you couldn’t focus on the pages. The words blurred together until they were unrecognizable. You found yourself glancing to the window to Coriolanus’s study, silently urging him to walk to it, to look out at you. He never came.

What was wrong with you?

You closed the book, not bothering to mark the page you were on. You hadn’t processed a single thing on the pages you flipped through. Hell, you weren’t even sure what it was you were trying to read. This was just a cheap attempt to push away your feelings, to not have to bother sorting through them.

You retreated back into the cottage, setting the book aside on a table, before marching up to Coriolanus’s study. The door was open. Coriolanus’s back was to you as he gazed out the window. You raised your hand, rapping your knuckles on the doorframe. He turned, his pale blue eyes wild with worry.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“You drive me mad. You make me ill every time I see you. I cannot tell if it’s because of the butterflies girls talk about or because you scare me. You do. Scare me, I mean.”

Coriolanus took a step toward you. “I scare you?” he repeated.

“Your anger terrifies me. I don’t think…I don’t think you would ever hurt me. But the idea of what you might do to someone who does…Coryo, I have never been more terrified than when you thought I was going to run away with Sejanus. I was sure you would have killed him where he stood.”

A frown settled on his face. He took another step. “I should have. You are everything to me. I won’t let anyone try to poison you against me.”

“I cannot for the life of me understand why. You could have anyone, Coryo. You could have someone who knows that they love you, who can say those words.”

“I don’t want anyone but you, petal.” He stepped closer. One more step, and he would be in front of you. Part of you wanted to shy away, to put distance between the two of you. Your feet remained firmly planted.

“Why?” you begged.

“Because I burn for you. You have burrowed yourself into my soul, if I should have one. Since we were fourteen, all I have wanted was you. All I have ever wanted was to be good enough for you. I made a name for myself for you, I became king for you. I will be any man you want me to be. Just give me the word.”

Your brows pinched together. “We only met when we were fourteen.”

Coriolanus closed the distance. “I fell in love with a girl who could look me right in the face and say I was wrong for thinking the opera useless, a gratuitous performance than something contributory to society. I did not come to love the opera that day, but rather the girl whose face lit up at every note. Who nearly rose out of her seat as if she might be sing too. I have loved you for a long time, petal. I fear I always will.”

He reached up, his hands cupping your face. You leaned into his palm, your eyes fluttering shut. “I will go to as many performances as you wish, petal. I will pretend I love every one. I will build you a thousand libraries. I will adopt a million cats. If you…If you tell me to beg for your love, I will get on my knees without a second thought. I will do anything, I will be anything, for you.”

“What if you tire of me?”

“I could never. The months I spent with the Peacekeepers, the years I spent climbing the social ladder, all I could think of was you and all of it would be worth it if I could hold you just once.”

“And when you learn that I am a far cry from the woman you think me to be?”

“Then I would love her, too. You are it for me, petal.”

You opened your eyes. Your gaze fell to his lips—how plush they were, how his tongue darted out to wet them, how they parted, ready to say more. Words never fell past them, though, for you stopped them right in their tracks. You kissed your Coryo until you were breathless.

When you finally parted for air, you whispered, “I…think this is better than a love match.”

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

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vivwritesfics · 5 months

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Fake It Till You Make It

Chapter Seven - The Party Princess... Buys A Car?

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

1.1K

Series Masterlist

The Party Princess... Buys A Car?

The Party Princess is back in Monaco, but it appears as though she has cleaned up her act. The Monaco Press has tried to keep up with her movements, but, truthfully, there hasn't been much to keep up with.

It appears as though she and Formula One driver Charles Leclerc have cleaned each other up for the better.

We are all aware of the princess's history with cars. It was assumed by many in Monaco that the royal family had put her on a ban after she'd crashed her 1963 Volkswagen Beetle.

That's why it came as a shock to us to see the Princess out, shopping for a new car. She was documented visiting Mercedes and Audi dealerships, but didn't appear to be having any luck.

The Princess took to social media to post about the purchase of a new car. It was no surprise that she went for another classic, a 1976 Lancia Scorpion, another movie car to add to her collection.

Charles Leclerc has not yet been seen acknowledging the Princess's new car. We wonder how long it will be until he finally gets her her first Ferrari.

"Cha, I did a thing."

It was a race weekend, one she couldn't attend. But she was still watching from the television in the apartment that she'd started to clean (and she was making progress, too. From the moment they'd gotten back from their little holiday, she began cleaning her apartment. Started with this dishes in the sink and made her way around the room).

"What did you do?" He asked, voice amused.

She practically squealed as she answered. "I bought a Lancia!"

There was a moment where Charles didn't answer, and the smile dropped from her face. "Charles," she said. "Answer me, I beg."

A breathy sort of laugh left his lips. "Chérie," he muttered, voice quiet, kind, and caring. "They rot."

"Shut up," she mumbled. He didn't know that she was currently sat in her Lancia, in the garage beneath her apartment building. "I can pay for someone to look after her for me." She leaned forward against the steering wheel, unable to stop herself from smiling. "I've given her a name.

"What's she called?" Asked Charles.

"Giselle?"

He repeated the name back to her. "Why Giselle?"

She leaned back in her seat. "It's from a movie," she answered and climbed out. "I can't wait for you to meet her."

Charles had to go not long after that. He asked for pictures of Giselle, ones he promised to look at after the race. She stayed sitting in her lovely new car for just a few moments longer, taking a moment to bask in her new purchase. This one she'd take care of, just like she'd tried to do with the rest of her cars. But, this time, she'd do it.

She started her up. Giselle rumbled to life and she drove her out of parking garage.

It wasn't unusual to see odd and extravagant cars around Monaco. But Giselle was something else. She drove around the streets, sunglasses covering her eyes. Cameras were on her, but, for the first time, she didn't much care.

She drove Giselle to the palace. It was a right job getting let in, her car not yet on the list. When she drove up the drive, a member of staff pulled open for door. She tossed him the keys. "Take good care of her," she said and ran up the steps.

It was easy to find Henri, hidden away in his office with his head in his hands. "Hen," she said and sat in the empty seat opposite him. "I think I did it, I think I finally cleaned up my act."

"Great," Henri said with little enthusiasm.

She grabbed her phone from her pocket, pulled up a picture of Giselle and placed it in front of her brother. "She's gorgeous, isn't she?" She began. "Charles says she rots, but I'm gonna take care of her."

Henri released a sigh. "Where the hell did you disappear to last week?" He asked suddenly. "Do you know who has to deal with everything when you disappear? Me! I have to do it. I have so many better things I could be doing with my time!"

"Jeez, Hen. I just got away for a little while. It's not that big a deal," she mumbled and checked her nails. "Besides, it not like you need me for anything."

And, suddenly, Henri was crying. His face was hidden in his hands, but his sobs were undeniable. "Fucking hell, Henri. I was with Charles. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Shut up," he spat between sobs. "You're a spoilt child and you haven't got a clue what's going on."

It was nothing Henri hadn't said to her before, but he'd never said it with such emotion before.

"You have no idea what the real world is like. Our family is already sick of dealing with you, so they dumped you on me. And, guess what, kid? I'm sick of you too!"

Tears sprang to her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. Clearing her throat she stood up. "I know, Henri. I know you're sick of me, you didn't need to tell me."

She stood and strode out of his office. Henri didn't call her back, didn't make any attempt to apologise. Fine, she didn't need her brother. Climbing into Giselle she held her phone to her ear. "C'mon," she mumbled, beginning her drive back to her apartment.

When had Charles become the person she tried to seek comfort from?

She didn't know that Charles had a bad race, didn't know that he was in no mood. He picked up the phone though, if only to tell her just that.

"Charlie," she began, but she didn't get a chance to say much else.

"I can't talk right now," he said quickly, voice low.

But she didn't much care, she needed him. "Charles, please."

But he couldn't hear the sadness in her voice, not past his own anger and annoyance. "Why are you being so needy?" He spat. "I can't fucking talk right now."

She ended the call and threw her phone onto the passenger seat. Pulling over, she buried her face in her hands and cried. Tears ran down her cheeks and she sobbed until her chest hurt.

This day couldn't get any worse, she decided as she drove back to her apartment. She didn't want to speak to anybody. Not Henri, not Charles, not her friends. Nobody.

The news of her father's sickness broke that afternoon.

lol i thought we'd be wrapping up with this story but i guess not lmao also, giselle for reference below

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pursuitseternal · 26 days

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𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓼: "𝓔𝓷𝓿𝔂" 💚

Raphael x f!Reader | E | 2.5 K

Summary: His beloved little mouse, someone dared to touch you, to call you names as he forges a contract with the new Archdevil of Avernus… While the client suffers his own fate, you bear the brunt of Raphael’s possessive nature, the full force of his envy…

CW: name calling, possessive protective Raphael, murder by terms and conditions, cunnilingus, body worship, rough marking smut

Ao3 Link | Masterlist

Lush fruits, roasting meats, even the most sensual of incense fill his halls tonight. The House of Hope hasn’t been such a sumptuous venue since you arrived as the consort of the Archdevil of Avernus… Just the thought of your lover… wait, Master, you correct your thoughts… The single thought of him makes your skin hot, and you are hot enough as it is, the fires of Avernus seep their inferno through the walls of his House. You can feel it waft in shimmering waves, the hellish heat that is always present. The floor is warm under your bare feet as you walk towards the dining hall, the exposed skin of your arms, legs, and midriff shine with sweat as you adjust the scarlet top and skirt, the material is loose and flowy and just opaque enough to hide what little skin it covers.

But for as steamy as your body feels, the pure silver pitcher in your hand is ice cold—charmed that way to keep the fruited wine inside just right. A rich dark red vintage mixed with oranges, pomegranates and of course… cherries. Raphael is fond of the taste, but he’s more fond of the way this cocktail helps convince simple-minded mortals to accept his deals.

Tonight’s guests are particularly choice prey, nobility eager to ensure their power and desperate for sm heir to continue their line. A familiar tale, even in your short tenure as Devil’s plaything, you’ve seen more virtuous beings part with their souls for far less.

The music grows louder as you enter the room, and instantly his sharp brown eyes lock on your figure. That corner of his lip quirks as you saunter right for him, for his seat at the rounded table laden with every sinful decadence the House of Hope can create. Your breath catches to see him, those prongs of his crown nestle so neatly in his dark hair. He says nothing as you fill his golden chalice first, the Master of the House must have his needs met before all others of course. A wave of his expressive arm, and he dismisses you to serve the company. Dulcet and engrossing in tone, Raphael waxes on about the vintage you pour, a simple annecdote to fill the silence and keep the mortals from wondering just what they consume in the house of a Devil.

You stop beside the most regal guest… a king, you think, given the crown and jeweled rings on his hand. “My, my, Archdevil. You lay out a variable feast for our consumption, and yet you save the main course until now…” Oh, that king’s voice is sweeter than jelly candy and smoother than silks from Comyr. His ice blue eyes reel you in, a strange swirl of colors you stare into to discern the exact shade. He taps a jeweled finger on the rim of his empty cup. “Come, come wench, don’t leave me waiting…”

“Wench?” Raphael’s stirling tones ring with command… and a hint of annoyance, you recognize. “Hardly,” he chuckles, “she is my most prized of trophies save the metal atop my own regal crown.”

As you pour the fragrant wine, you feel a tug at the thin fabric of your skirt, just enough to catch your attention and distract you. You stare at the king with wide eyes, a parted mouth. And you spill the wine, red liquid sloshing over table cloth and onto the royal lap of Rapheal’s client.

He hisses in anger, snatching fingers claw around your wrist. “Careful, whore.” The words enrage you, insult you. But that’s not what sets your heart thumping.

It’s the glare you feel from Raphael’s seat, the seer of his anger and disapproval. “Oh, little mouse. How clumsy…” Words meant to dismiss the mistake only cement the rush of fear… you turn to force yourself to meet his gaze of judgment, even as the guest fumes about the mess continually.

“Is this how you treat with nobility, Devil? Soil their trousers?” The king scoffs, grabbing a napkin and waving it in your face. “Clean it, wench.”

A silence falls on the room, even the musicians stop. But you can hear a ragged breath, almost whistling in your ear. Raphael leans against the back of his chair. “I suppose, if my little mouse has made such a mistake, she will have to atone for it…”

He gives you a nod, but only you know how irate he is, how desperately close he is to losing that precious control. His eyes hone in on your hand as you grab the white linen and rub it on the king’s thigh.

“Harder, mouse,” the king purloins your pet name, “don’t miss a spot.” He chuckles as you have to press over his crotch, as you must inadvertently tease on the outline of his cock through the damp trousers.

“Oh, now I might consider selling my soul to produce an heir,” the king taunts as you draw yourself up. “Throw in this delightful female as a broodmare, and I’ll give you anything you ask for, Raphael…”

“Unfortunately, such matters must be negotiated separately…” Raphael shrugs, snapping his fingers to present the contract, its glowing infernal letters shimmering in the dim light as it steals the attention of the king. “Now, I really must see to the proper reeducation of my little mouse. You don’t worry another moment about this, your majesty. Just… sign your contract, and you’ll have everything you desire.” One of his hands grabs your arm, the other waves to the musicians to continue their performance.

Outwardly, he's the image of calm, self-control incarnate, but by the way his fingers already grip with bruising force into the flesh of your upper arm, you know this is about to spiral, desperately, maybe even dangerously, out of control.

He glances once more over his shoulder to see the king throw back the rest of his wine in one swig, quill in his hand as he dashes a frilled and curly signature on the contract. Then, Raphael leads you into his entry hall, the whispers of souls far more tortured than you tickle your ear.

But you love this torture. Crave it even.

He leads you to the massive expanse of glass on the opposite wall, the view of the hells just on the other side. He draws you to a stop, standing stock still beside you, hand still vice-gripped into your arm. “What do you see, my dear?” he whispers, a flourishing wave of his hand.

“Avernus,” you reply. Easy.

That infernal strength floods his body, his deceptively human body. Fingers close around your chin, his body spinning you by your jaw, shoving your scantily clad body against the thickly paned glass. “Wong, little mouse,” he chuckles, slow and staccato. His face presses into yours, his other hand teasing the fabric off the few parts of your body it covers until you are naked. “Shall I enlighten you, or do you wish to answer again?” he croons, voice low and dangerous, his free hand wandering over your soft skin and tracing the edges of your body.

“Your kingdom?” you give your answer more hesitantly. “Your domain?”

That pearly, blunt-toothed grin draws even closer until his lips whisper against yours. “I’ll accept your pitiable answer, but yes… what you see out there is mine… just like that idiot’s soul is also mine….” His hand eases from your chin, ghosting its hot touch lower to cup your breast, to knead it in his palm. “Just as you… dear little mouse… are mine.”

Your heartbeat races, his body cages you in against the warm glass window. “I’m sorry, Master, I didn’t mean to spill or embarrass you…”

He lifts his head from where he’s peppering your neck with small, searing kisses. “Sorry?” The words hangs in the air. “My dear, it is not you who must be, or will be, sorry.” A wicked grin on his saturnine face, and he captures your hand, still sticky from fragrant wine, and one by one he sucks your fingers clean. “You do know how fiercely a devil guards his treasure? More possessive than dragons, more tyrannous than the pitiful rulers of the mortal realms…” His tongue is searing, almost scalding your digits as his tongue wriggles around them to cleanse every inch. “And when we feel our treasure is threatened or… despoiled… we can’t help but need to protect it, to claim it anew.”

He lifts his crowned head, those deep-set eyes roaming over your exposed flesh with unabashed hunger and possessiveness, just as his silver tongue had said. “You are my treasure,” he growls, “and every inch of you is mine, inside and out, body and heart and soul.” Palms cup your face. “That king dared insult you, dared to command you, to touch my treasure…”

A shriek pierces the din from the dining hall, a death rattle of agony, a cry of grief. And another shining green soul flies past you to join Raphael’s powerful collection in his House.

A single brow raises as reality dawns on you… Raphael’s rolling laughter caresses your ear even as his lips kiss your neck. “If only that king had reread his contract before signing. I saw it fit to add a few addendums… just because he touched what was mine, that contemptuous creature. His soul is mine, effective immediately. Mortals are so easy to wrap around my fingers and catch in my claws. But not you….”

His self-satisfaction is boiling over, his body crushing you back against the warm window, thigh slotting against the apex of your trembling legs. Those brown eyes flicker with hellfire, the light of envy, of pride and possession raging red hot inside him. “You, my fascinating little mouse, are the one mortal who has captured my attention so thoroughly and given this old fox the merriest of chases. You are different, special. I spent hours watching you, wanting you.”

Thumbs stroke your cheeks, soft and soothing. “I watched tears roll down your face when you were alone, when you suffered the inevitable losses your peril provided.”

Raphael places a tender kiss on the backs of your knuckles. “I have watched the delicate digits, these fair fingers vivisect your foes, a glorious wake of carnage along your path…” He lowers himself, kneeling before you, a trail of searing, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and through the valley of your breasts. “I watched with chagrin as you bound these gorgeous breasts and shielded your body in cold, unfeeling, unyielding armor…” Nails, blunted and manicured, scratched lightly down your sides, tickling you, making you shiver. “With abject horror…. With the fiercest jealousy I have ever felt in my millennia of existence, I was subjected to watching you be wooed and touched and fucked by inferior males and females…”

You swallow your curses as his fingers slip right inside the wet heat of your folds. Knees buckle. Your belly clenches, an extra rush of warmth and blood into your swollen, velvet cunt as he fucks his fingers in… and out. Your walls clench around those long digits, even his human form has skin that is blistering hot. Even inside you, in your core that blazes as an inferno, he is always hotter.

But it’s not enough for either of you. A grumbling growl from his chest, he pulls his fingers from you, sucking them clean. Then, he lifts your leg, thigh over his shoulder so he can feast. He works his tongue deep inside your channel, heated kisses and sucks on your clit drive you tumbling towards the abyss of pleasure. It’s almost too much… almost.

Then, he speaks. “I starved myself every time another lover was allowed to taste you, to savor your nectar or drink your blood. I made myself mad with want for you…” All his want sweeps you away now, the object of his longing speared on his fingers as he devours your cunt. Your back arches against the widow, hips riding his tongue and touch as he steals your breath like he stole your soul…

That damned silver tongue. Hands grip your ass cheeks, trapping you in his mouth. “Would you like to come, sweet little mouse?” his words are muffled by your folds.

“Yes, please Master…”

“Louder,” he commands. “So the rest of that royal wretch’s retinue can hear for what sins he sealed his fate…”

A whimper escapes you, “Please, Master…” you dare to brace a hand in his hair, that tip of his head encircled by his crown. “Please,” another desperate whine tumbles from your parted lips.

“Mmm, such sweet sounds, such mellifluous music as you crescendo to your inevitable climax…” his swells of laughter vibrate inside you. Lips wrap around your clit and suck, only to then feel the blunt-edged bite of his teeth. That slice of pain sends you over the edge, an explosion of heat and shaking muscles, you come on his tongue. Your arm almost knocks his crown askew, the spasms from your walls wracking their way to the tips of your fingers as you claw into his hair. It’s all you can do, leaning against the window to catch your breath, hips rolling their last waves of orgasm on his tongue as he cleans you, overstimulating you.

Raphael sits back on his heels, the Archdevil at your feet, and he kisses the back of your hand once more. “After all this time, no one will ever doubt you are mine. Mine to covet, mine to order, mine to fuck… mine to envy.”

He rises quickly to his feet, parting your thighs, gripping hard against your thigh to open your cunt. Your walls still flutter as he grinds his clothes erection against you. Fingers release his cock, that blunted tip coaxing its way inside you. “Since you’re mine… let’s make it obvious to whom you belong my little one,” he growls, pushing inside you at an agonizingly slow pace. But that breath of gentleness is all he gives you. Snapping his hips, he ruts, he pounds you against the glass. Every thrust brings a snarl, his melodic voice rough as he growls against your lips.

You pant and sigh and twitch, overstimulated and yet craving more. You grip him, hands on his back, where you can almost feel the eruption of his heat and power straining beneath his mortal-looking shell. His back ripples as if his true Cambion form threatens to burst through any second, releasing those great leathery wings. Those nubs push on your palm, his control slipping ever so slightly as he comes, his hot seed staining your insides, nearly boiling your walls as he snarls and snaps his rutting hips into you.

“Mine,” he rumbles one final time before he pulls from you. A snap of his fingers and his whole ensemble is set aright, canting crown in place, clothing buttoned and immaculate. While you… your dress is torn, your breasts exposed, your cunt leaking down your thighs. And Raphael just smiles. “I think our guests will need another round of drink, my dear. See to it,” he orders, waving to your silver pitcher as it appears refilled at your feet.

#raphael the cambion #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #raphael x you #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael smut #bg3 #bg3 smut #baldursgate3 #baldur’s gate iii #baldurs gate smut #baldur’s gate 3

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myunghology · 1 month

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NOWAY SO UM, i was thinking of a prompt and then i remembered i haven’t seen this theme on ritsu so…

maybe a fic of knight!ritsu and reader being a princess/prince :3?

i have like two ideas for the fic, you can choose the one you like; the first time they meet or being in a secret relationship

Or maybe mix both 👀… ( /j but if you want oke :3 )

and em that’s all, i like your fics and smau, I’m your biggest fan wuuuu :3

✦ — REWRITE, IGNITE, RESTART.

summary a normal day in a royal highschool, you find yourself seeking warmth of a young knight, despite meeting him for the „first” time.

pairings ritsu sakuma x gender neutral! reader, ft knights <3, prince/ss x knight au!

warnings none!! wee bit of an ever after high au but i just stole the 'royal and rebel' group things for inspo HAHHA

a/n if only.

Right. How cliché. A school that seperates students from their origins.. You would complain, but it's not like you could do anything about it. You've made friends here, anyways.

Students separated into two groups— one's with direct Royal status, and one's far from it— or one's who usually served for them. This sounds scandalous, but it really isn't.

Take your friends for example! Tsukasa Suou, the next heir to his family. Of course he was bound to be famous for it. You were also included in that group— the only child of a queen! Obviously, you were close with Suou.

Hmm, yes. Him and his friend group of Knights. And one princess. You'd be lying if you said you didn't have a small girl crush on Arashi.

— "I have never said that! What on earth are you babbling about?!" You snap out if your thoughts as you hear the young heirs voice from across the school's halls, he seems to be arguing with one of his friends again, your eye twitching from the sudden noise.

You approach the noise, seeing the short ex-king, now bound to be a knight. And the up and coming king, Ah. What an old sight. Tsukasa Suou and Leo Tsukinaga, as always.

"Suo~ I was just kidding! You always take jokes seriously.. You're such a killjoy!" Leo growls at him as Tsukasa closes his eyes, as if bracing for impact. My God, don't they get tired from bickering all day?

You feel fingers hands tap you on your shoulder, you turn around and see Arashi standing in front of you. And thus— you can't hold in your complaint anymore.

"Don't they get tired from arguing all day? I feel like I want to shit myself from how much they do it. It's the fifth time this week and it's Wednesday!" You whine, making the young princess in front of you giggle.

"You'll get used to it soon enough," She teases playfully, as the sight unfolds, Sena ironically joining the argument. You sigh, whilst Arashi shakes her head and changes the topic.

"Anyway, love, have you seen Ritsu?" She asks, as you try to hide the visible blush on your face. "No.. Didn't see him in alchemy classes today, actually." You answer, pouting.

"You miss your husband, don't you?" She laughs at your pout, but somehow still managing to tease you. "Don't even... My own parents don't even know that me and Ritsu know each other." You complain internally.

The princess tilts her head, "Seriously?" She asks in pity, your pout slowly getting more visible, as she takes that as a 'yes'.

The day passes by quickly, you find yourself seeking for the young Knight. As a response— you end up going to his favorite sleeping places.

Haaa..~ the young Sakuma. Always wandering around. No wonder why this guy was distantly related to the Cheshire Cat. He was almost exactly like him.

The sun is almost about to set, the school's yard still looking as beautiful as it's always been. You've usually found Ritsu here when he wasn't in classes, I mean.. Who wouldn't? It's gorgeous.

You feel a hand cover your eyes, a frown plastering your face before a voice perks up. "Guess who?"

What a familiar voice. Wow, who could it be?

"Ritsu. I'll kill you." You scowl at him as the male scoff, removing his hand. "Language," Ritsu warned, before ruffling your hair, messing it up slightly.

"I'm sorry, my prince/ss. Do you want me to give you my lap for your royal nap needs? Want a pillow? A blanket, too?"

Ritsu could not be more sarcastic and teasing if he tried.

"What do you mean, 'Language'? I didn't even swear." A tired groan comes out of your lips as you say that, making him laugh. "What's up? You wanted to find me, no?"

". . . . Nuh uh."

"Hah."

"I'm gonna go back home for summer break. You coming with me?" You ask, raising an eyebrow slightly. Ah. That's what it was.

"So.. To put it in words, you're leaving me?" Ritsu asks, cocking his head to the side, replicating your eyebrow raise. "I literally just asked you if you wanted to stay with me." You huff, turning away from him.

"Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah..." He whined, tugging on your hand before you got too far away. As if he already knew you were about to walk away.

"You'll get lost without me. And you'll get into trouble. Don't do that. You're mine, remember?" If anything, Ritsu couldn't stand boredom. He would rather spend his time with his prince/ss than lay around alone and have nothing to do.

"You're usually the one who gets me into trouble." You retort, trying to pull away from his grip, but it was already inevitable.

"... True... true..." He muses, a smirk spreading across his face as he kept his grip on you. "But you love me, remember?"

Ah yes. How could one forget Ritsu's insufferable teasing?

"Unfortunately." A pout plastered on your face, the knight letting out another scoff, shaking his head.

Ritsu gave you a teasing, slightly mocking gasp as he pretended to be offended at such a dry response. "You wound me. Here I am, trying to be a loving, supportive boyfriend, and you're giving me a unfortunately? Where's the 'I love you too?' or the I love you more?'" He groaned dramatically, putting his hand to his forehead.

"You aren't answering my question." Deadpanning, glaring at him as he sighs and caves in. "I can't.." He mutters unexpectedly, making your eyes widen.

That was a rare answer.

The male offers to take you back to your palace, a pout placed on your face the whole way there. Seeing this chance— Ritsu obviously teased you the whole way home.

The sun sets quickly and you're already back, your eye twitching once you hear from your mother to get changed into something proper, as something important came up.

You were now standing, right in the middle of the great hall with your parents, head tilted in confusion.

Until—

"Ah, yes! [Name], my darling," Your mother calls out, before continuing. "We've hired someone new for you— to keep you safe. After what happened before.. I wouldn't even dare to let you out our sight!" She exaggerates, making your head tilt.

"So.. Who's gonna be following me around this time?" You ask, sucking in a sharp breath through your teeth before a smooth voice interrupts you— your eyes widening.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Wouldn't be so much of a knight if I was late to meeting you, now would I?" You freeze as a familiar voice comes from behind you as you quickly turn around, seeing the same black haired male you once saw earlier.

Your dad smiles unknowingly, "Ritsu Sakuma, he's gonna be by your side 24/7, from now on!" You laugh sheepishly, before retorting. "Not in my sleep too, right?"

"Do you want me to?" He hums right next to your ear, making you shiver. "No- I just.."

"Relax, [Name]. Me and your mother will go out for just a short amount of time, so he'll be here to keep you safe for the time being." Your father says— in a rather calm voice. "I can take care of myself.."

"Sure you can."

myunghology: part 2 when hahahah idk bro

#jian’s works!#ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #ensemble stars #enstars smau #sakuma ritsu x reader #ritsu sakuma x reader

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theladywholivesonthemoon · 10 months

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hello ! I read your Kitana fic and I must say your a really talented writer! id love to see you write some general sfw headcannons on her if you wouldn’t mind ! thanks :)

KITANA SFW HEADCANNONS

pairing: kitana x reader

warnings: none!

a/n: my first sfw headcanons. Thank you so much for the kind words ♡

Kitana is not a very emotional person on the outside, but she is a wonderful lover. Due to being raised as the princess of Outworld, she was taught to conceal her feelings, keeping them hidden away from the public as to keep the image of the royal family prime and pristine. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel her feelings, specially through her acts of love.

First, there as somethings that make Kitana, well, Kitana, such as:

Kitana is definetly a very serious individual, years of royal training leading to it. She tends to keep to herself, her interest hidden from view from most people, exept her close ones.

I image her being into dancing, due to all the acrobatics she performs while fighting with her fans, but she prefers to dance alone in her room than in a room full of people.

Kitana has a collection of fans ranging from all the colors of the wheel made with materials from all regions of Outworld. Her favorites being the Fartahk Cutters and the Nekrotonan Bladed Fans. She collects them like someone who collects card seals.

Due to her long life span she has seen a great deal of thigns, so I like to imagine she keeps multiple diaries to keep track of all the happenings. These diaries are carefully made with leather bound covers painted in the most intricate designs, the writing on the inside pristine and sophisticated. They are stored carefully in wooden bookcases in an adjacent room next to her bedroom, to be read when desired.

I definitely see Kitana’s love languages being quality time and physical touch, let me explain

QUALITY TIME:

Kitana cares for her loved ones deeply, but because of her royal duties she hardly had time to spend with them. So she tries her best to aline her schedule to do something with her special one at least for a few hours of the day. This is where I see a bit of acts of service coming in. Kitana, with all her decorum, arranges a diner on a quiet and reserved part of the castle, complete with fairy lights, rose petals on the ground and a good variety of Outworld’s finest beverages. As soon as she is freed from the thousands of appointments os the day, Kitana pushes through the tiredness and heads towards their shared quarters. It would be easy to order a servant to invite her lover to the planned diner, but she prefers to spend every little moment with them. The diner goes perfectly, just as something planned by a meticulous princess would. They talk for hours, the warm colors of dawn slowly merging into the night sky, conversation flowing swiftly as neither seem to notice how late it has become.

Kitana values all the little moments she shares with her lover, specially long walks in the palace gardens. They walk unhurriedly through the hanging gardens, admiring the beautiful scenery. The bioluminescent flora lights up the lovers way as they cruise through the garden. This is usually where Kitana feels most free- free from her royal duties, her worries and her fears. Something as simple as walking with her lover brings her a sense of calm that no other thing can reproduce.

Even though it’s not her favorite thing, she allows her lover to accompany her in missions. As the empresses most trusted assassin, she would often lead missions with the Umgadi, and even in a band of most trusted allies, it can turn dangerous at any minute. But, depending on the nature of the danger, she would rather have her lover closer than away, even if she has the utmost trust in the Umgadi. She knows her lover could manage by themselves, but she would rather not take any chances.

PHYSICAL TOUCH

Kitana is very touch starved, even though she won’t show it. She was deeply loved during her childhood, by both her parents, specialy Jerod, so the distance brought by royal duties was often breach through warm hugs and that love for touch carries to her romantic relationships.

During the time spent together, Kitana always has a hand on her lover. She either holds her special someones hand or has a hand strung around her lover's arm when promenading through the hanging gardens.

She also tends to have an arm behind her lover's waist while guiding them while socialazing in royal events so as to never lose sight of each other. Royal events can be very stressfull for Kitana, as she is usualy the one organzing them as Mileena is not as inclined to participate is such events, leaving Kitana with most of the organization and meddeling with the public. As such, it often leads to burning her out, so being around her lover and with her hand touching them keeps her grounded.

#kitana #kitana x reader #everwritingannafics #wlw #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagine #kitana imagine

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short-honey-badger · 9 months

Text

Peppermint Tea 14

Yaaay. A new part! This one was hard. It goes into our readers backstory so I really hope that you all enjoy the way I've taken it!

Warnings! NONE!

Masterlist

It’s two months later when Mihawk decides to tell you about his charge, for lack of better wording. Perona had shoved her way into his life, and for some reason, Dracule had let her stay. The pink ghost girl drove him crazy, with incessant questions and ridiculous demands, but…it made Gloom Island far less lonely. Maybe that had been why he had allowed Roronoa to stay and train.

The warlord huffs at himself. Look at him, lamenting like a sentimental old man.

Anyway, Dracule could tell how happy you were when he spoke about her, so he started to pay more attention to the other occupant of the castle. While Perona was loud and obnoxious. Mihawk also found that the young woman was kind and wasn’t above helping someone in need. She had been the one to nurse the green swordsman back to health after all.

Since then, Dracule has been debating with himself. It would be a compromise to your safety, but the thought of the look of delight on your face was too good for him to pass up. Not to mention, he had come to tentatively trust Perona in her stay with him. He would have her swear to him not to tell a soul about your existence.

Dracule sighs and shifts to plant his feet on the ground from where he had them kicked up on his desk. He refills his glass of wine and takes a deep sip before calling for Perona.

“Ghost girl! Come here, bring your animals, and shut the door,” Mihawk doesn't need to speak very loud. Her room was right down the hall from his study.

Perona floats inside not long after, a massive scowl on her face, “What? What’s so important for you to be making so much noise?” She demands but does as Mihawk had instructed and shuts the door behind her.

“Stop complaining and sit down if you want to know where I keep disappearing to,” Dracule snaps at her and has never seen Perona move so fast in his life. She zips to her usual armchair across from his desk and tucks her feet under her body as she sits down. Her eyes are wide and expectant, waiting for Mihawk to finally tell her his big secret.

Mihawk looks at her, tone deadly serious when he speaks, “You will swear that you will not speak about this outside of this room,” He demands, and Perona looks shocked at the demand. He watches her gulp and looks up at the two ghosts that float above her. They disappear with a soft pop, and Perona grows seriously.

Whatever this is, it has to be super important. Perona was good at keeping secrets, so she could definitely keep this for Mihawk.

“I swear I won’t say anything outside of this room,” Perona repeats diligently.

Dracule gives her a long look, studying the young woman and hoping that he is making the right choice here.

“I met a woman,” He begins and before Perona can get anything out of her open mouth and demand questions, Mihawk holds up a finger and glares at her, “You will let me speak, or I won’t say a word.”

Perona snaps her mouth shut and crosses her arms with a pout, “Fine.”

Satisfied, Dracule continues, “She lives on an island, just herself and a mutt she found. His name is Hank,” He licks his lips and locks eyes with the enraptured Perona, “I helped destroy her home.”

Perona sucks in a sharp breath. What? Had she heard him right?

“Twenty-two years ago, there was an island in the New World, the Nammu Isle. It was on the outskirts of Big Mom’s territory and was rumored to have connections to Ohara. Charlotte wanted the island gone, and what a Yonko wants, a Yonko gets. The royal family begged her and offered their youngest daughter up as a bride for one of Big Mom’s sons. She pretended to accept the deal, and on the day that they were to come and get the princess, they attacked in the night instead. We attacked.”

Perona doesn't recognize the name of the island, and it makes her wonder why it was such a problem that a Yonko wanted to destroy it.

Dracule pauses to take a deep drink of his glass of wine, licking his lips of the dark liquid, and then picks his tale back up, “I was young. Twenty years old and still dumb enough to be influenced by others. Big Mom promised anyone who would listen to her a good fight, that _’s family was filled with fierce warriors itching for one. None of it was true. We slaughtered the entire island, but somehow, her older brother caught wind of Charlotte’s plans and got his sister out in time. When I overheard plans to send her crew out to look for them, I volunteered and made sure that they got away safely. Went about my life after that, until around half a year ago.”

Perona swallows harshly. Had Mihawk really done all of that when he was younger? While a pirate, Perona thought of the older man as very honorable, not someone who would willingly partake in others' pain.

“Why did you change your mind?” She asks him softly. She needs to know. Why would he be so for the destruction of this girl's home only to change his mind at the end?

“Inside the castle, I caught sight of a portrait of the princess, and she was beautiful in every sense of the word. Looking at her made me feel… guilty for the first time in my life.” The emotion coats his voice, and Perona feels her heart reluctantly go out to the warlord.

“What about _,” Perona presses and frowns harshly when Mihawk looks away from her, his own mouth screwing up in a deep scowl, “You haven't told her, have you?”

“No, and I don't plan to either.” Dracule snaps lowly and then snatches up his glass to drink deeply from it, “I did not tell you all of this for you to judge me, Perona. I told you because _ deserves to know someone other than me.”

The pink ghost girl blinks rapidly. Did she hear him, right? She casts off the doubt and quickly takes it in stride. Of course, you deserved to know someone as fabulous as Perona and not just dreary old Mihawk.

“Well when do we leave?” Perona demands and stands from her seat. Her mind is a whirlwind of plans and things that she could bring to show her new friend. And damn it! She was determined to make this mysterious woman who had captured Mihawk's attention her friend. She could guarantee that _ would like Kumae!

“Sit back down,” Mihawk snaps at her, though a smirk has curled his lips. He is glad to know that his charge had taken everything in stride. “I'll phone her later, and the three of us can have a quick chat. She's very protective of her island, and her devil fruit isn't something to be trifled with.”

Perona promptly pouts and turns her nose up at him. “What's her devil fruit?”

“She ate the Yuki Yuki fruit. She's a logia type.” Dracule says, and the two fall into conversation. Perona is curious and asks all sorts of questions about the lost princess, Mihawk finds himself smiling as he speaks of his angel. It has been a week since he was last in her calming presence, and he longs for you the more he speaks of you.

“You really care for her, don't you, Mihawk?” Perona points out several hours later. She'd gone and fetched them some lunch at some point and helped herself to a glass of rosé as they ate. Dracule glared at her over his own glass of red wine and said nothing. Perona grinned at him, “Aweee come on. You can admit you love her.”

“I do not love anything,” Mihawk snaps harshly and swirls the glass of red, “If anything, _ Interests me. Her kindness, her beauty. She is a hidden bloom in an arctic landscape. She deserves to be protected, and I will be the one to do so. I owe it to her.”

Perona gives him a look of disbelief. How in the world could this stubborn warlord not admit that he loves this mystery woman. She had never once heard him wax poetry before, but she'd heard him recount how lovely this woman was at least three different times in the past four hours.

“Sure, Dracule. Keep telling yourself that,” Perona sneers and takes a big bite of her sandwich, not flinching when Mihawk sends her a scathing glare.

“We'll go make that call when you're finished stuffing your face.” The warlord grumbles and then stands to retrieve the snail phone he inherited from the castle.

Perona finishes in record time, and soon she is floating beside Mihawk as he dies the number to the matching mushi that you own. It rings for a while, long enough that Mihawk begins to grow worried, before you finally pick up

Ca-lick

“Dracule? Is everything okay?” You sound concerned, and Mihawk instantly relaxes at the sound of your voice.

“Everything is fine, Dear one,” he begins and glares at Perona when she claps her hands together in obvious glee, “You remember Perona, yes?”

“Sure do. The ghost girl right? You've told me all about her. Is she okay?”

Gods, Perona could die from how cute you sound!

“She is fine. I called because I told her about you, and she wanted to speak with you.” Mihawk sends Perona a glare when she makes grabby hands at the receiver, “Are you okay with that?”

It's quiet for a moment on the other end.

“Uhm. Yeah, that's fine. That sounds nice, actually.” Mihawk can hear the nerves in your voice and knows that this is a big step for you, speaking to someone other than him. Dracule can imagine you there, flurries scattering around you, and wished that he could be there for your comfort.

“If you are sure,” Dracule murmurs and hears you hum over the connection.

“Yeah, I'm sure. It's okay, Dracule.”

Satisfied, the warlord hands over the snail phone to the overly excited Perona, “Here. Keep it short. The connection won't last forever.”

Perona lets out a squeal of happiness and jerks the phone towards her, “HI! I'm Perona. I've heard so much about you! Mihawk really doesn't know how to keep his trap shut when you're on his mind!”

The phone is silent again, and Mihawk looks murderous for half a second before laughter bursts out the other end. Perona gives Mihawk a smug look.

“Hi Perona, I'm _,” You introduce yourself, and Dracule can hear the smile in your voice, “It's really nice to meet you!”

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #fluff #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #opla mihawk #mihawk x you #mihawk x y/n #opla mihawk x reader #opla #one piece live action #peppermint tea #perona

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wilcze-kudly · 4 months

Text

Kuvira's unsustainable empire.

Stalin is here too. For some reason

I do often find myself wondering just how sustainable the Earth Empire Kuvira created was. Outside of the whole ethnostate thing, I have seen plenty of people argue that what Kuvira was doing was good for the Earth Kingdom and its people.

Kuvira: Growing up in Zaofu, with Suyin Beifong, I learned that the idea of a royal family passing a title from one generation to the next was archaic, and that technology and innovation should be what drives a nation forward. [...] It's taken me three years to get it back on track, and there is no way I will allow it to slip back into the dark ages. [...]

I find myself both tentaively agreeing with and vehemently against these opinions.

It's true that Kuvira helped stabilise the crime problem of the Earth Kingdom post the death of the Earth Queen. She also seemed to have greatly modernised and industrialised the Kingsom as well.

Of course, this actually makes perfect sense when looking at the real life inspirations behind Kuvira and her empire.

A lot of people compare Kuvira's rule over the Earth Empire to the Nazi party. And there is good reason to. But there are also huge ties between her and the rise and rule of Stalinism over the Eastern Bloc.

I think the main reason people compare Kuvira to the Nazis (other than the comparison seeming easier) is the ethnic clensing, concentration camps, etc.

But the thing is, the USSR also did that. The NKVD targeted many ethnic minorities, often accused for secretly plotting against the country.

Now, we never really are given a good reason for why Kuvira went through with an ethnic clensing in her empire. Which honestly kinda fits because from most testimonies I've read, a lot of people who were detained by the NKVD weren't told what they were being detained for either.

Bolin: So how did a bunch of water and firebenders end up in one of Kuvira's reeducation camps?

Ahnah: [Angrily.] Call it what it is: a prison.

Baraz: Kuvira's been purging states of anyone who's not of Earth Kingdom origin and locking them up.

Now the use of the term 'purging' immediately brings to mind the aptly named Great Purge (also known as the Great Terror.), which was essentially Stalin killing a lot of people in order to consolidate his power and remove influence of his political opponent. (A lot of people is apparently from 700,000 to 1.2 million)

Utilising violence in order to remove political rivals is also a pattern for Kuvira.

Of course tlok is stil a kid's show, so no oke is getting shot in the back of the head, but Kuvira uses implicit threats of violence to bend others to her will.

Kuvira was quite alright allowing the people of the state of Yi to starve and die purely because they refused to completely submit to her. (the idea of starvation is a surprise tool thay will help us later!) She also sends men after Wu, due to him posing no immediate threat to her. This is a very smart tactic of methodically stripping away anything that can question the legitimacy of her rule.

The branding of people who disagree with her, even people who were never allied with her, as traitor is also a very smart tactic.

Kuvira: Bring the citizens of Zaofu to kneel before the Great Uniter! All who pledge their loyalty to me will keep their freedom and will be dealt with fairly as full citizens of the Earth Empire. The rest will be imprisoned as traitors, like Su Beifong and her sons. Now bow!

Whoever is against Kuvira, is against the nation... questioning the leader equals treason... got it.

However, Kuvira's... strong punishments don't exactly extend to the very outlaws she was meant to weed out.

Kuvira: Stop groveling as if this is the worst day of your life. This ... is a good day. I'm going to give you all the opportunity to rehabilitate yourselves, and become productive members of your nation. Right now, you're lost, but pledge your loyalty to me, and I'll give you a new purpose in your lives. Of course, if you don't want to join, you could always stay right here.

As you watch the show, you can clearly see that Kuvira valued her Empire's militaristic power more than anything, including her people's actual well-being.

This actually gives us a little insignt on Kuvira herself. Kuvira, ever since she was a child, has dealt with a lot of pain. And the way she dealt with it was by reacting with violence and by pushing others away, keeping her defences up, so to say. This is most seen in her relationship with the Beifongs, and how she would rather push them away and convince herself they never cared for her, than open up.

We also see that Kuvira projects her trauma onto the Earth Kingdom which is an.... interesting way of coping to be sure.

Kuvira: [...] I was cast aside by my own parents like I meant nothing to them. How could I just stand by and watch the same thing happen to my nation, when it needed someone to guide it?

And that's where we get into the unsustainability of Kuvira's empire. She prioritises what she percives as safety. However, she seems to be pouring an astronomical amount of resources into her military.

I mean, how much money do you think was dumped just into this thing alone:

FUCKING LOOK AT ITS GOOFY ASS

To give Kuvira the benefit of the doubt, we don't really get to see what really goes on in the areas she's conquered. (which kinda sucks like did we really need all those episodes in Republic City)

We do however have Opal's testimony, and while she is biased against Kuvira, I don't really think she has any incentive to lie here.

Opal : They might have been happy when you first arrived, but I've seen what happens after you leave. Citizens are forced to work as slave labor, dissenters are sent off to who-knows-where!

I wouldn't be completely surprised if it were revealed that Kuvira introduced some manner of collectivisation in the Empire. Since this would also mirror the USSR's collectivisation of agriculture in real life. Plus, it would allow Kuvira to handle more respurces she could funnel into the army. This is also kinda supported by Varrick telling Bolin this:

Varrick: Relax, kid, what can they do? Kuvira controls the whole nation now, and Republic City is begging for the metal that we're mining. This train has left the station, and we own the track!

This implies that Kuvira excudes at least some amount of control over all the aspects of the country's economy.

More proof of this lies in Kuvira's words about literally seizing and redistributing Zaofu's resources as she sees fit.

Kuvira: [...] Zaofu cannot continue to rule itself. They have been hoarding their riches and technology too long. I'm here to distribute those resources fairly throughout the nation. This is about equality.

How much do you want to bet that 99% of those riches and technology went to the invention of Avatarverse's equivalent of nuclear warfare?

How much money was spent on Kuvira's military. More important question, how much food would it take to keep this military alive. Especially that you must also count other batalions and forces stationed around the country, so this isn't even all of it.

So we have a country where the citizens are forced into slave labour and most likely are poorly fed, in order to bolster and uphold a military (that probably consists of at least a few criminals). This is... not really good nor sustainable.

But it is in character for Kuvira, someone who prioritises her percieved 'safety' over everything, even her own other needs. Such as her very obvious desire for relationships.

Sadly Kuvira projecting her poor coping mechanisms onto an entire country isn't the best idea lol.

"But, Quill!", I hear you say, "If Kuvira ran the country so poorly, why did she have so many fans and supporters? "

That's where we get into ye ole cult of personality. Propaganda can be a shockingly effective tool, one that was used a lot by Stalin.

Similarly, we see tons of propaganda surrounding Kuvira. Even her title, The Great Uniter reeks of it. There's a lot of spectacle and performance in how Kuvira intracts with her people.

There's many examples of Kuvira twisting the narrative to make herself look better/more reliable, especially to her subordinates. Her lying about Bolin and Varrick still being with her, her portraying herself as a peaceful negotiator at Zaofu, despite threatening the Beifongs with an attack (her ignoring Wei's question of "you call bringing an army to threaten our city peaceful?" also feels very poignat because there really is no good way to answer that question lmao)

Her speech to her men before her fight with Korra is also a good example.

Kuvira: Fine. I want you all to know that I would never ask any of you to do something that I'm not willing to do myself. So, rather than risk your lives, I will fight the Avatar one-on-one.

Yes, perhaps to some extent she wanted to keep her soldiers safe, but this was also calculated. I'm quite sure Kuvira was able to tell Korra was weakened, she comments on it a few times. Kuvira has hostages, Zaofu's forces are diminished by her taking a lot of them with her. She clearly has no care for civilian lives, she attacked Republic City, a place full of civilians earlier than expected, it was guaranteed the place wouldn't be evacuated in time.

Kuvir holds all the cards here, but she still puts on this spectacle, because what better way to convince your followers about your power than kicking the Avatar's ass?

Kuvira's rule is built upon by the cult of personality surrounding her. She is, to some extent the figurehead that brought the army together.

There's fucking merch of her, she signs autographs, like she's a celebrity. This is deliberate. This is what keeps people blind and excusing her shortcomings and cruelty as a leader.

This may also be why Kuvira's right hand man, Baatar Jr seemed to have gotten scott free off for the crimes he also partook in. He may have helped Kuvira commit them, but he wasn't "the face of the empire" , so to speak.

Also no one gives a fuck about him for some reason despite him being a really interating character. I also want to make a longer post about Baatar, Kuvira and the consequences they faced for their actions.

In the end, I think that Kuvira is a very troubled young woman, who gained a good deal of power very quickly. And used that power the only way she knew how. To control and protect by pushing away any percieved threats.

You can see the Earth Empire as an extension of Kuvira herself, in a way. Kuvira has been through pain, and built up very prickly painful walls, while also maintaining a tight grip on her vulnerability.

The cult of personality thing would also be a more self indulgent aspect of Kuvira's trauma bleeding into her rule. Kuvira wants to build relationships, but doesn't want the vulnerability that comes from true relationships (most likely one of the main reasons she distanced herself from the Beifongs). This makes sense, as she did experience the cruelest rejection one can go through, being rejected by one's own parents.

However, facilitating connections where she has all the power would allow her to reap the benefits of relationships, without having the vulnerability she fears so much. (The exception to this rule is Baatar Jr. And I do wanna talk more about him and his relationship to Kuvira one day).

Kuvira is a really complex person, who really shouldn't have been placed in any position of power. But Raiko and Tenzin really needed someone to do the dirty work so they could place Wu on the throne (and probably puppet him) so uh. Yay.

Also I'm really not sure what this rant even is at this point. It was gonna be me complaining about Kuvira running the Earth Empire. Then it became me vomiting the contents of my history textbooks onto you.

Tbh I feel like I've been stating the obvious so uh. Yay. But enjoy my rambles lol

#tired of calling kuvira 'avatar hitler'. it should be 'avatar stalin'#there's also certainly some north korean influences here too but I don't feel too confident in talking about that #kuvira #legend of korra #avatar #tlok #the legend of korra #avatar the legend of korra #atlok #lok #anti kuvira #i guess. not really #is it anti kuvira to say she shouldn't have been placed in charge of a country for any amount of time

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onceuponastory · 1 year

Text

a perfect fit - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: After fleeing the Royal Ball, Y/N knew she had no chance of ever seeing the Prince again. But Prince Bucky is determined to find her. Pairing: Prince!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of abuse and violence, blood, being cut by glass, Y/N’s stepfamily belittling and degrading her, Y/N doubting herself, and her parents dying. Also the cheesy fairytale love at first sight tropes and all that good stuff I love so much, hahaha. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: This is part two of my Cinderella AU, because I’m a sucker for a happy ending... and writing PrinceCharming!Bucky, as it turns out. You can read part one here if you haven’t already.

Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

When she awakens the next morning, for a moment Y/N thinks the night before was little more than a dream. It’s only when she sees the glass slipper beside her bed, shining in the early morning light, that she remembers how real it all was. The memories come flooding back. She really did dance with Prince Bucky, and spent the whole night with him. Unfortunately, now she has to go back to her regular life. But that doesn’t mean she can’t hold onto the memories a little while longer. After hiding the slipper, she soon busies herself making breakfast for her stepfamily, whilst pretending like nothing happened at all.

Inside, though, she’s so happy that she wants to burst.

“Good morning.” She smiles, placing down each plate and teacup in front of her stepmother and stepsisters. “How was the ball?” She asks, trying to hide her grin. All she can think of is Prince Bucky, and the warmth of his smile. The way he looked at her still makes her heart beat that much faster.

“It was awful.” One of her stepsisters huffs, and Y/N raises a brow.

“Really? How so? You were dressed so beautifully. I thought Prince James would’ve been enthralled by you.” It still feels odd to call him Prince James, rather than Bucky. In the few hours they spent together, the pair really connected, as if they were close friends. But that only reminds Y/N of how she’s never going to see him again.

“Prince James didn’t even look at us! Some other princess caught his attention, and he spent the WHOLE NIGHT WITH HER!” she whines.

“And then she just ran away from him!” The other gasps. “Imagine running away from Prince James! She doesn’t even know how lucky she was!” As her stepsisters continue to wail about how unfair everything is, Y/N nods along, feigning shock. Although, all she wants to do is laugh. Her stepmother and stepsisters have tormented her for so long, yet they couldn’t even remember what she looks like, too ignorant to realise it was her that Prince Bucky wanted. The mystery princess they’re talking about is right under their noses.

“Didn’t you hear? She left one of her shoes behind. The Prince is searching for her now.” When she hears that, Y/N almost drops the plate she’s holding in shock. He’s looking for her. Maybe she has a chance after all. A part of her wants to tell the three of them the truth right there and then and rush out to find Bucky. But she can’t. Not now. She has to wait for the opportunity to present itself. But she can’t stop a little happiness from peeking through. As her stepfamily eats, Y/N refills their tea and fetches more food for them, humming a happy tune to herself.

“You seem rather… happy this morning.” Her stepmother frowns. “More so than usual, anyway.”

“Do I, stepmother? I hadn’t noticed. I suppose it’s just such a wonderful sunny day that I guess I’m in a sunny mood.” She chuckles, paying no mind to her words. Yet, it’s enough to get her stepmother thinking. The tune Y/N is humming seems so familiar, and she’s never seen her so happy before. Something must have happened whilst they were gone.

“How about you? What did you do while we were gone?” For a moment, Y/N’s eyes widen slightly, only adding to her stepmother’s suspicion.

“Well, I finished my chores and then… I read my book for a while before bed. Nothing too exciting.” Y/N replies. Yet, her stepmother remains unconvinced. She knows she’s hiding something, she just doesn’t know how to prove it.

But she’ll find out what it is. One way or another.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When she finally has a free moment, Y/N rushes back upstairs, ready to think about the night before. She closes the door, finally letting out a small, happy squeal.

“I believe this is yours, isn’t it?” A voice speaks from behind her, the sudden noise making her jump. When Y/N turns, she sees her stepmother standing there. As soon as she sees what she’s holding, Y/N’s stomach drops. Gripped tightly in her stepmother’s hands… is her remaining glass slipper. “Imagine that. A glass slipper. Just like the one belonging to the mystery girl Prince James is so desperately looking for.” She gets up, stalking towards Y/N. “And yet, I found it in my stepdaughter’s bedroom. When she was under explicit instructions not to attend the ball.” The entire time, her voice remains eerily calm and monotone. With each step she takes, getting closer and closer to her each time, Y/N’s heart pounds so strongly it could break through her ribcage. “It is yours, isn’t it?” She hisses, and Y/N nods, deciding it would be best to accept whatever’s coming her way than to lie.

“Yes, it’s mine. And Prince Bucky’s looking for me now.”

“Oh, Prince Bucky, is it?” Her stepmother scoffs. “Searching for you or not, do you really think he’d want you when he realises what you truly are? Just a pitiful, lonely and dirty servant girl with no money or dowry to her name?” Her words register something deep within Y/N. The same shame she felt when she fled the ball. When she ran from the kindest man she ever met, and the best chance she ever had. Y/N’s stomach twists, and she registers tears pricking at her eyes. Yet, she remains strong.

“I cannot trust that he will want me. But that is my slipper, and you said yourself that he’s looking for me. I still deserve the chance to win his hand.”

“Very well. How about a deal?” Her stepmother suggests, and Y/N raises a brow. “When the Prince arrives, we tell him the truth. And I’ll help support you in your new role and life.” Y/N listens intently, waiting for the catch. She’s been living here for long enough that she knows better than to trust her stepmother. “But of course, I’ll need to help your new husband too, no doubt. After all, he’s foolish enough to want you as his wife. So you will make me your royal advisor. All decisions go through me. Deal?”

“No.” The word causes Y/N’s stepmother to blink in surprise for a moment. Quickly, she regains her composure, yet her brows remain furrowed in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“No.” Y/N repeats. “I want the Prince to find me more than anything… but not with your ‘help’. He is the most wonderful person I have ever met, and I refuse to let you treat him as cruelly as you treat me. So.” She takes a breath. Despite the courage flowing through her veins, she can already feel the sick taste of regret, and the worry that she’s throwing her last chance away is beginning to build. But she’d rather be stuck here for the rest of her life if it meant Bucky and the others in the kingdom were safe. “My answer is no.”

She expects her stepmother to start sputtering or yelling, to call her all the names she’s accustomed to hearing by this point. Because that’s what she always does. But that’s not what happens. Instead, her stepmother simply stands up straighter and walks towards her, completely silent. With each step she takes, Y/N feels her heart pounding faster and louder. She considers running, but she can’t even take a step. She’s frozen, waiting for what’s coming.

“You ungrateful brat.” Her stepmother hisses, finally reaching her. As she backs Y/N up against the wall, she towers over her. Despite the stones digging into her back, Y/N stands firm, showing her stepmother that she isn't scared of her anymore. “After your fool of a father died and left us with next to nothing, I made sure you still had a home! And when I ask for something in return, for a moment of thanks, you throw it back in my face.”

“Don’t speak about my father like that!” Y/N demands. “He may not have had a lot, but he still loved me. He loved us. All you have done is treat me awfully. I have nothing to thank you for.” A harsh slap suddenly hits her cheek, stunning Y/N into silence for a moment. Her stepmother has only ever called her cruel names, and treated her like a servant. She’s never hit her before.

“How dare you disobey me! What on earth makes you think that a servant girl like you deserves this over my daughters?!” Her stepmother hisses, her breath hot against Y/N’s cheek.

“Because that is my slipper. I am the one who danced with him.” Y/N repeats. Fully aware of the potential consequences, she looks her stepmother right in the face once more. “It proves that I’m the one he is looking for. He wants me.” Suddenly, her stepmother smirks, standing up a little straighter.

“Oh yes. So it is.”

And without another word, she raises the slipper into the air, and then smashes it against the wall. When the slipper hits the wall, it shatters, spraying glass everywhere. Although, the sound of Y/N’s cry blocks most of it out. She sinks to the floor, desperately trying to salvage what pieces she can before her stepmother can crunch them under her heel. Her vision blurred by tears, Y/N registers pieces of glass slicing into her palm and fingers, but she doesn’t care. She has to get these to show Bucky the truth. That it was her he danced with all night. Although she already feels like it’s hopeless. These are simply just smashed pieces of glass… they mean nothing. Especially not that they used to be a glass slipper. As the last shred of her hopes and dreams fade, Y/N sniffles, breaking down in silent tears.

“Clean this up.” Her stepmother orders, her voice back to the scarily calm, monotonous tone from only a few minutes ago. “And do not fill your head with such ridiculous fantasies again.” Then she slams the door shut, the sound ricocheting across the room. Y/N jumps up, ready to run out of the room after her, to fight for her future, her and Bucky’s future.

“Let me out! Please!” She begs, pounding on the door and trying to pull it open. But it doesn’t budge. Her stepmother must have locked it, trapping her inside. Her chance to get out of here is just as shattered as her glass slipper. Breaking down in tears, Y/N sinks to the floor once more, too tired to fight it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Still no luck finding the mystery woman, Your Highness.” The Captain informs Prince Bucky, and he sighs.

“How many houses are left?”

“Just one.” Bucky nods. Although he still has some hope left that they will find his mystery princess, he’s been losing hope with every failed house search there is. He glances down at the slipper.

“Let’s hope the last house gives us some more luck, then.” Mounting his horse once more, they set off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sometime later, Y/N sits up, her body aching from laying on the cold and wooden attic floor. Her cheek throbs from where her stepmother slapped her, and her eyes are red and raw from crying. She doesn’t even know how long it’s been since her stepmother locked her in here. Bucky could’ve been and gone already. As the beams from the setting sun fill the room, the shards of her glass slipper sparkle, a cruel reminder of the happy ending she could’ve had. Now, it’s just as shattered as her slipper.

Y/N goes to the window, hoping that the sunset will at least cheer her up. As she gazes out of the window, she suddenly notices something. Men atop horses. She has no idea exactly how many, but there must be at least thirty. And they’re all outside the house. Y/N’s up too high to see everything clearly, but she recognises the deep blue of their uniforms.

It’s the Royal Guard. They’re here. She’s not too late. She still has a chance.

But how is she going to get their attention? Her stepmother locked her in, and she’s not strong enough to pull open the door or to break it down. She could try screaming or stomping her feet to prove someone is upstairs, but her stepmother would probably find her before they did. Y/N paces the room anxiously, muttering to herself, trying to think of a way to get their attention.

And then, something crunches under her foot. Glass. And then, she knows what she has to do. The walls of this attic room have been falling apart for decades, leaving stone pieces scattered around the room. If she breaks the window, she could alert them that way. Quickly, she grabs the biggest piece of stone that she can, rushing back to the window. Of course, hitting a member of the Royal Guard with a stone or raining broken glass down on them is not ideal, but it’s her only hope to get their attention. Bracing herself, Y/N raises her hand… and throws the stone at the window.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Thank you again for your time, ma’am.” The Captain nods.

“Of course.” Y/N’s stepmother replies. “I am sorry that your search wasn’t successful.” She smirks. Even if her daughters don’t get to marry the Prince, the fact that Y/N won’t either is more than enough solace for her.

Bucky walks back to his horse, unable to hide his disappointment. Maybe he’s destined never to find his mystery girl again.

“Wait! Stop!” a distant voice calls, stopping him in his tracks. “I’m up here! Wait!” The words send a jolt of hope through his body. Immediately, he turns around, marching back towards the house.

“Ma’am. You said there were no other eligible women in your household aside from your daughters, did you not?” Her eyes widen, and she stammers.

“Well, there’s only my stepdaughter, but it can’t be her, she’s just a servant girl, nobody important.” Bucky hates the way she talks about her stepdaughter, as if she’s not a valid member of this household because she’s not related to her by blood. He remembers the mystery woman’s apprehension, and how afraid she was to let him help. And things suddenly make sense. If someone who speaks so terribly about her is 'taking care' of her, it's no surprise she didn't want him too close. Although, this only spurs on his desire to find and help her.

“Her status does not matter. What matters is you lied to the Royal Guard, and to your Prince.” He states. “Now, let us pass.” He orders.

Upstairs, Y/N nervously wrings her hands. Ever since she broke the window, she’s been waiting for her stepmother to burst into the room and punish her. She’s spent the last few minutes trying to think of an explanation that will save herself, but her brain has turned up empty each time. And that’s why she’s also considering making a break for it. When she registers the sound of the key in the lock turning, she sighs.

“Stepmother, I just wanted-”

“Hello again.” Prince Bucky smiles. Y/N gasps. As the fear leaves her body, she takes an enormous sigh of relief. It feels like an immense weight has just been lifted off her shoulders.

“Am I dreaming?” She asks, and he chuckles.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” He steps closer, taking in every inch of her. “It is you.” He whispers, still grinning. And something deep in Y/N’s stomach flutters. Suddenly, he notices the mark on her cheek. Immediately, his face hardens. “Who did this to you?”

“It was my stepmother. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth, I was afraid she’d find me, and-” He takes her hand, cutting her off. He grips it tightly and protectively.

“There is no need to apologise, my love. She will never hurt you ever again. She won’t even be allowed near you again. You have my word.” Y/N nods. Even now, when he holds her hand, she can feel the same care and love from the night before. “Now. If you’ll allow me, my lady…” Bucky smiles. He holds out the remaining glass slipper, ready to slip it onto her foot. But first, Y/N knows she has to tell him the truth.

“Prince Bucky, my name is Y/N. I’m not a Princess, or a noblewoman. I’m more of a servant than anything. In fact, that’s why my stepfamily calls me Cinderella. I don’t have any family, or dowry I can offer. Even though I am the person who danced with you at the ball… I still don’t know what will happen once that slipper fits, or if you’ll even want me afterwards.” She can feel tears rolling down her cheeks, but she doesn’t stop. “But I love you. And I hope you will take me as I am.”

Bucky smiles, gazing at her like she hung the moon. “Of course I will. I don’t care about your title or what dowry you can bring. All I care about is the person behind it. And I love you… Y/N.” He whispers her name, almost as if he still cannot believe he finally gets to know it, or that he’s finally found her. Her name leaving his lips sounds so sweet, so loving. It’s been so long since she heard anyone say her name, let alone with no hostility in it. For the first time in a long time, she feels loved. “Now. Despite knowing the truth, every maiden in the kingdom has to try this slipper. Prince’s orders.” He reminds her, and she giggles.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Y/N slips her boot off, and Bucky slides the slipper onto her foot. “It’s a perfect fit.” He beams. He takes her hand, running his thumb along her knuckles. “My princess.” He whispers.

Slowly, he leans in closer, tilting his head towards hers, and Y/N rises to meet it. The kiss is soft, yet passionate. In fact, it’s everything she could’ve dreamt of. He holds her in his arms again, keeping her safe from everything in the world. Soon, Bucky leads her downstairs, keeping a tight, protective grasp on her hand.

“In a way, I’m going to miss this place. Well, I enjoyed living here when it was just my parents and I.”

“Don’t worry, my love.” His nickname for her makes her smile, light heat settling on her cheeks. It’s a nice change from Cinderella. “We’ll both make sure nothing happens to it, and you can come visit whenever you want. I’m sure your stepfamily won’t be here for much longer.”

“And if they do stay?” Bucky chuckles.

“Trust me. My guards and I will make sure they don’t.” Y/N smiles, squeezing his hand.

“Thank you.”

When they reach the bottom of the stairs, her stepmother stands there, flanked by two guards. Reflexively, Y/N tenses. “It’s alright.” Bucky soothes. “I won’t let her hurt you ever again.” As they pass by her, Y/N can feel her stepmother’s glare burning through. As she begins to panic, Y/N registers Bucky squeezing her hand once more. Keeping her head held high, Y/N and Prince Bucky walk through the door, ready to start their new life.

Together.

The End.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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