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heizlut · 30 days

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Closing the Distance

ꕀ cw: mention of blood/injury (nonsexual related)

ꕀ tags: fem!reader, inexperienced and possibly ooc!calcharo, oral f!receiving, first-time sex, breeding kink, creampie, mostly proofread

ꕀ nsfw under the cut

ꕀ m!list here

Calcharo didn't expect this at all. He only agreed to help you find and fight against the tacet discords that had sprung up from a particularly strong tacet field. But here you were, laying underneath him and looking up at him with big eyes, your chest heaving with heavy breaths and your lips looking quite inviting.

All he was trying to do was get you out of harm's way by practically tackling you to the ground and caging you in with his own body as the final tacet discord emitted an explosive energy as it was struck down. It wasn't anything special, he swears it's not.

You clear your throat awkwardly, blush evident on your cheeks, "You can uh... get off me now..." You avert your gaze, unable to properly look him in the eyes, not now, and not since you felt something particularly...hard brush against your stomach. Your words snap Calcharo out of his daze, heat rising to his own pale features, "Ah, y-yes. I apologize..." He moves off of you and stands up, extending his hand towards you to help you up as well.

You take it, pulling yourself up and let go abruptly, "Thanks for your help today." Calcharo looks down at his hand where the warmth of your touch still lingered, then curls it into a fist, "It was no problem." The air felt heavy and awkward. There was something bubbling up inside of him that felt wholly unfamiliar. He rolls his eyes at himself and he turns away from you. Why was he acting like this? As if he's never seen a pretty girl before... How pathetic.

He peeks over at you as you absorb the echoes, taking in your strong but soft form. Calcharo could at least admit he found you to be a strong fighter, you were part of the Ghost Hounds after all. He was familiar with you, so why was he feeling like this now. He's never had time to form a romantic relationship with anyone nor has he ever felt the need to. He had more important things to worry about than getting his dick wet and being all soft with someone.

You meet he gaze, noticing that he's staring at you again with his intense blue-grey eyes. You raise a brow as you walk back over to him, "What's the matter with you today? You seem off." Calcharo huffs, looking annoyed as he turns his face away from you and crosses his arms, his voice deep and monotone as usual, "I'm fine." You study him for a moment and then shrug, "Whatever you say. Let's get going." As you move past him, Calcharo notices your gait, "You're limping."

You freeze in your tracks, having hoped that whatever was bothering him would keep him distracted enough to not notice. He already did so much for you today, you wanted to handle your injury yourself. You feel his large hand on your shoulder as he stops beside you, "Why didn't you say anything?" You want to shrug off his hand, but you don't; instead you sigh, "It's not a big deal. Let's just-" "No", Calcharo cuts you off quickly, moving in front of you, "At least let me take a look."

"I don't think that's such a good idea...", you say a little softer than you had liked. Remaining stern and stoic as ever, Calcharo crosses his arms as he looks down at you, "And why would that be?" His question sounds icy and he must've realized it because he tone softens when he speaks again, "You're injured and I wouldn't be a very good leader if I didn't look out for another member." Thunder rumbles in the distance, a sure sign that a storm was on its way. You look down and then grab his arm, surprising him, "Fine. But let's not be out in the open..."

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If you hadn't been injured and limping, the two of you wouldn't be soaked from the rain you had gotten caught in. Slamming the wooden door shut of the run-down cabin you found in the woods, you immediately sink down onto the floor. "How did you know this place was...", Calcharo's voice trails off as his blue-grey eyes find the growing patch of blood on your upper thigh, immediately crouching down to your level.

His intense eyes take in your features, your face flushed red from a slight fever and a couple droplets of water run down your face to your neck. Calcharo's hand reaches for your wounded thigh before pausing, hovering right over the wound, "May I?" You grit your teeth and nod. With uncharacteristically shaky hands, he undoes your pants and helps you lift your hips off the ground as he lowers them. In his head, he repeats over and over that this is just to treat you. That's it!

But he can't help glancing at your cotton panties... There was nothing particularly special about them, but the way they hugged your hips, pressing close against your pussy underneath; it had him inadvertently licking his lips. Calcharo shakes his head and looks to the open cut on your thigh. He does his best to make sure his voice comes out even as he speaks, "It's not too deep. There's just a lot of blood from straining yourself." You point to your bag, "There's a first aid kit in there..."

With a single nod, he grabs the bag and rummages through it til his fingers brush against the small first aid box. He grabs it and mentally prepares himself to give you stitches while also trying so damn hard to stop from popping a boner at the sight of you.

You were injured, for fucks sake! Now wasn't the time to suddenly sprout inappropriate thoughts that he had never had an issue with before. Sensing his hesitation, you practically snatch the kit from his hands, making him blink in shock.

Though flushed with a bit of a fever, drenched from the rain, and injured, you still have the nerve to narrow your eyes at him, "I can do it myself." His jaw hangs open for a moment but he quickly shuts it, returning to his usual cold demeanor, "Fine." He sits back, watching as you thread the curved needle and piece your own flesh as you stitch yourself up. Mentally he cringes on your behalf, but you barely react as your skin closes with the thread.

If anything, seeing just how strong you are, not just physically, but mentally, it makes things even harder for him, quite literally. His cock throbs in his pants and he presses down on it, willing it to just go the fuck away. After tying up the thread and cleaning off the remaining blood, you look his way, noticing his hands pressing down in his lap and you raise a brow, a weak smirk playing on your lips, "Are you seriously hard right now?"

Calcharo's eyes flick to yours, all wide-eyed as he looks at you, then he frowns and looks away, "No, I'm not." You breathe out a laugh that does nothing to help the ache in his pants, "Really? Then move your hands." Calcharo grimaces, his nose scrunched in what looks similar to a snarling dog, "I don't want to." You just shrug, looking amused albeit still a bit weak from your condition, "Suit yourself then. It just looks like you're having a bit of a rough time."

He turns his body away from you, not wanting to listen to anymore of your teasing. "It wouldn't be very nice of me to not show my gratitude to my leader for helping me so much today...", you trail off with a teasing lilt in your voice. Calcharo straightens up and peeks at your over his shoulder, "What do you mean...'show your gratitude'?" Hook, line, and sinker. You put on a more nonchalant look and sigh heavily, "I'm simply saying that since you helped me out..." You look into his eyes again, "I could help you out as well."

Too many thoughts race through Calcharo's mind. How could he even take you up on that offer, especially when you're injured. Especially since he shouldn't be having thoughts like this. Especially because you were special to him. Wait... You were... special to him? When did he feel this way towards you? I mean, sure he always went with you whenever you were itching for a fight and he did talk with you a little more frequently than the others, albeit not too much.

You can tell his mind is racing, so you lean forward, ignoring the bit of pain in your wounded thigh, and place your hand on his shoulder, "Just quit thinking, Calcharo." Your hushed voice and hot breath fan across his ear, sending tingles straight down to his cock. Fuck it. He turns around and faces you once more, his face close to yours as he speaks low and deep, "I don't want to hurt you." His eyes are on yours, but yours are on his lips as you speak again, "You won't."

Before he can protest again, your lips are on his in a soft, but demanding kiss. Calcharo is frozen for a moment, having never done this before. Hell, he's never done anything romantic or sexual in the past. But the plush softness of your lips on his has him beginning to melt. He returns the kiss hesitantly at first, but once he finds the right rhythm with you, he finds himself leaning into you more. His hands are on your flushed cheeks and your heat radiates into his palms.

Your tongue prods his lower lip, begging for entrance to which he allows, parting his lips as you tongue slips in and moves against his. It's a slippery feeling, but you taste so sweet.

Without having realized it, Calcharo has you caged in underneath him yet again, although this time is was special. Your legs are spread to accommodate his body between your legs and your fingers are tangled in his wet, but long silver hair.

Your lips brush against his, "As much as I'd like to help and take things over, my injury-" Calcharo cuts you off with a kiss, "I know. Tell me what to do and I'll do it." His voice sounds husky and breathless, needy for more of you. You grab his hand and place it on your breast, making his breath hitch, "You can touch me."

He looks down at where his hand rests on your breast, taking in the way it fills his palm so perfectly, and he squeezes lightly. Truthfully, he wants your shirt off so he can feel the soft skin against his own calloused hands.

Calcharo's eyes go to yours and his fingers hover over the buttons of your shirt, "May I?" You chuckle a little at his formality, "Please do." With your affirmation, he unbuttons your shirt, tugging the material gently down your shoulders. He takes in the sight of you under him in just a bra and panties. You truly were a sight to see. Without asking for permission again, he fumbles with the clasp of your bra before eventually unhooking it and sliding it off.

Calcharo licks his lips again when he finally sees your bare breasts, so round and perfect. His hand makes its way back to your breasts, gently palming them. His thumb flicks over your nipple, making you draw in a breath. His gaze break away from your chest and back up to your face in alarm, "Did I hurt you?" You smile tiredly at him and shake your head, "No, it felt good." Calcharo visibly relaxes and returns his attention back to your chest.

Leaning down, he captures one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue sliding over the pert bud as you let out a soft sounding moan. His eyes flit up to watch your reactions as he continues with his ministrations. All he wants is for you to feel good even if he's not entirely sure what he's doing. But from the look on your face, your lips parted and brows knitted together, he can tell he's doing well so far and that's all he needs to know to keep going.

Calcharo presses little kisses from your breasts, to your stomach, then pauses above your covered cunt. Without a word, you shakily raise your hips, signalling him to remove your panties and continue on. He bites his lip, nervous as hell, but he didn't know when he would get an opportunity like this again. So he slides your panties down, ever so careful to not have the material rub against your wound on it's way down your legs.

With you panties off and your pussy now exposed to him, Calcharo feels like he's in a daze. You raise your hips yet again with a raised brow, "Well? Haven't you done this before?" Calcharo looks away from you, not wanting to confirm nor deny, feeling too embarrassed to say you were his first everything.

Your sweet voice pulls him back in, "You're so unlike yourself right now. Where'd my confident leader go, huh?" You were only half teasing as you spoke, just wanting him to move on from your first quip.

Hearing you call him your leader stirs something inside of him. Calcharo feels like he has something to prove. You were right, he did everything with a cold confidence, so he could certainly do this. Calcharo lowers himself to your pussy, his lips so close to touching. With a quick look back up to you, he lightly licks at your clit. It's experimental at first, just small little licks to test out your reaction. But once he sees how turned on you are, he dives right in.

It's sloppy and wet, but Calcharo has no intention of stopping now. His tongue prods and licks at your entrance, lapping up your arousal as it coats his tongue. His cock twitches as he mindlessly grinds against the floor. Your beautiful moans and shaky breaths only spur him on and make him feel even more brave. His calloused thumb rubs at your clit in time with his tongue lashing between your folds.

Your hands fly to his hair, pressing his mouth further into your pussy as you cry out his name, "C-calcharo! 'm cumming-ngh!" The taste of you flooded his senses and he simply could not get enough. He grips your hips, keeping his mouth latched onto your soaked cunt as though it was his first and last meal he'd ever have, groaning as if he were the one on the receiving end. You try to push his face away, "S-stop! Too much-ngh!- 'm sensitive!"

Calcharo knew he should stop, but your moans and the way your arousal flowed from you was way too delicious. His tongue flicks over you clit once more, making your legs shake as you moan loudly, releasing on his tongue once more. Finally being merciful, Calcharo removes his mouth from your pussy, your juices and his own saliva glisten on his lips and chin, but he doesn't have a care in the world right in this moment.

Your breasts move in time with your heavy breathing and you narrow your eyes up at him, "You're so lucky I'm injured right now..." Calcharo's eyebrows furrow, cocking his head to the side slightly, "But you liked it." You can't keep your glare when he's looking at you like some confused puppy, although quite the scary looking puppy... You look down, spotting the wet patch on his pants, "Just take your pants off. It looks like your cock is ready to burst."

Calcharo's eyes widen at your straightforwardness, but he immediately schools his expression, "...Right." He undoes his belt harness, letting it drop to the floor with a soft clank of the metal. Next, he pops open the button of his pants and lowers the zipper, tugging his pants and briefs down just enough to free his cock. His cock springs forward, large and veiny, twitching and leaking profusely.

You're in awe of his size and if you had known he was packing that much down there, you would've intentionally tried to get yourself in this situation much sooner. With one hand, he holds his aching cock and covers his face with the other, "Why are you staring so intensely?" Seeing the state he's in makes you laugh. The sound of it makes his length twitch and he peeks at you through his fingers, sounding a bit annoyed, "What's so amusing to you?"

You give him a genuine, yet cheeky smile, "I just... Never thought I'd see such an intimidating guy like yourself get so flustered." Calcharo groans at your teasing remark and lowers his hand from his face, his other hand absentmindedly stroking his cock, "Enough of your teasing."

You spread your legs a little more, careful not to strain your injury, "By all means, please continue. I promise I won't tease you anymore." "Hmph...", Calcharo does his best to look displeased, but there's too much longing and desperation in his eyes for it to be even remotely convincing.

He lines his leaking tip up with your awaiting entrance, but pauses, "Just tell me if it's too much, alright?" With a nod from you, pressure begins to build as he pushes his length slowly inside of your tight, wet cunt.

Cacharo's face scrunches with pleasure and he sucks in a breath, the feeling of being inside of you, inside of anyone for the first time has him struggling not to cum right then and there. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you, speaking softly, "It's okay. You can move now."

He whines at the affirmation and begins to thrust slowly, trying to keep himself calm so as to not cum immediately or hurt you from going too hard too fast. His muscular arms cage you in and his silver hair cascades over his shoulders.

His blue-grey eyes lock on yours as he keeps his steady pace. Calcharo's voice is strained when he speaks through gritted teeth, "This feels too good..." He groans as his hips make contact with yours, his cock pressing deep inside of you.

You press a kiss to the corner of his lips, whispering against them, "Then keep going." Calcharo's cock jumps inside of you and he starts thrusting a little faster, a little harder, "F-fuck..." He kisses you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours as his cock fucks into you. All you both can do is whimper and moan between relentless kisses as he comes closer and closer to orgasm.

His thoughts are only on how fucking good you tight pussy feels squeezing around his cock and how badly he wants to breed you with his cum. Gods, what he wouldn't do to see your stomach growing round with his kids.

Fuck, what the hell is even thinking right now. He can't even own a dog, let alone raise a kid, it was too dangerous. But your pussy and your hold on him was way more dangerous to him. He had to keep going.

Calcharo growls out a low groan, "I'm gonna cum -fuck- take it all. Please, please take it -ngh- all!" With a harsh, deep thrust, he releases his warm seed inside of you. His cock throbbing as his cum pours from his tip and the excess drips down to the floor.

He presses his sweaty forehead against yours, the heat from your fever seeping into his skin. Fuck, you had a fever and were injured... He pulls out of you, making you whimper at the feeling of emptiness.

His eyes flick over to your stitched wound, eyes wide as he sees some of the stitches had popped open and fresh blood was trickling down the side of your thigh, "I-I apologize. I shouldn't have-mmph!" Your lips on his shuts him up and when you pull away, you only smile tiredly at him, "I'm fine. Quit worrying about me." Calcharo's expression shows just how much he's struggling with all of this. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you or make anything worse.

You tug a strand of his long, silver hair, bringing his attention back to you, "If you really feel that bad then I guess you'll have to make it up to me another time." Calcharo's eyebrows furrow, but then his expression softens slightly, "Of course. As your leader, I-" You cut him off quickly, "No, not so much as my leader. But as my partner. How does that sound?"

He's stunned for a moment but then clears his throat, trying to keep his typical brooding expression, "We can't. I don't want you to get hurt." You roll your eyes and look up at him, speaking in a resolute tone, "This is different. I'm not just some civilian, I'm part of the Ghost Hounds just like you. I can handle whatever danger comes my way or else I wouldn't be here right now." Calcharo processes your words for a second, then sighs, "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Your expression brightens, "I'm pretty sure that's similar to what you said to me when I first joined." Calcharo rolls his eyes as he gathers your clothes and his, "Whatever. I meant it as much then as I do now." You just breathe a small laugh, "Of course. I think we'll be just fine."

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a/n: calcharo is a cutie patootie under that tough exterior, i just know it🥺

#calcharo x reader smut #calcharo smut #wuthering waves smut #wuwa smut #calcharo x reader #calcharo wuthering waves #calcharo wuwa

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natsukishinomiyaswife · 3 months

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⋆ 𝓔𝓻𝓲𝓬 𝓥𝓮𝓷𝓾𝓮: 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓕𝓲𝓵𝓶 ⋆

Eric Venue x Reader - May be OOC due to lack of information, I love this man ♡

⋆ You had known Eric for a while now, working with him on various films. Though you were only a staff member, he was always kind, greeting you and making small talk whenever he had time. He was different from the other stars you worked with, never demanding or rude. He treated everyone with respect, no matter if they were a costar or crew member, taking the time to talk with whoever he could. You could hear him laughing as he got his makeup done, or joking around as he got ready in wardrobe. It was surprising the first time you saw him on set, a contrast to the serious action role he would always play. You'll never forget when filming ended that day, how he had called out your name and waved you goodbye. You hadn't expected him to remember, let alone ask what it was.

⋆ As time went by he would continue to surprise you, talking with you more and more whenever you worked together. You would bring him a coffee as he got his hair done, Eric thanking you and starting a conversation. If you were busy he wouldn't keep you, understanding you had a job to do. If you had time though, he would offer for you to stay, wanting to chat with you while he got ready. You would never talk about anything serious, just general things, like how your day was going, or what you were having for dinner later on. He would always remember, asking you the next day of filming how it was, or if your day was any better.

⋆ One morning he showed up on set earlier than he was scheduled, a coffee in one hand and a drink for you in the other. It was what you would always drink, your favorite drink to have in the morning. You thanked him, heart racing as he assured you it was nothing, continuing on with your work. It wasn't until you were leaving for the day that you realized you had never told him what you liked, your face growing warm at the thought. The idea of him paying attention to you, noticing you and what you would drink...it left your mind racing as you went to bed that night.

⋆ While he was a private person, you knew he had a son, having heard about him throughout the years. You may not know his name, or what he looked like, but you knew how proud Eric was of him, his face softening and voice fond whenever he brought him up. You felt honored the first time he spoke of him, talking about how his son got accepted into a prestigious academy for magicians. He was shining with pride as he told you, going on to discuss how talented he is, and how he couldn't wait to hear how his first day went. As you listened you couldn't help but smile, his enthusiasm contagious as you congratulated him, wishing his son well at his new school. You knew better than to pry, grateful that Eric was willing to tell you this much. It was your lack of questions that encouraged Eric to speak of him more, enjoying how nice it was to speak with someone who respected his privacy, who wouldn't hound him for more.

⋆ The first time Eric brought you up was during his weekly call with Vil, having mentioned you offhand without realizing it. He would continue to bring you up each time they talked, Vil becoming curious the more he spoke of you. His father had never spoken of anyone like this before, always focusing on his career and being a parent. The way he talks about you, it almost seems like...

"Sounds like you have a crush," Vil says, interrupting the story his father was telling him. Eric's voice tampers off as he goes quiet, the line silent for a moment before he laughs, "I'm too old for crushes, Vil," dismissing the idea.

⋆ Yet, the thought never leaves him, Vil's words sitting in the back of his mind. Even though you only saw each other on set, talking with you made him feel like a person, like he wasn't a famous actor. He never feels like a celebrity as you laugh and joke with each other, he never worries about his image as he eats with you instead of in his trailer. Just being able to talk with someone about how he's doing, about Vil, without fear of it being in the tabloids the next day, was something he was grateful for. He had to hold his tongue when you told him you would be working with Vil on a commercial, excited to be working with him for the first time. The pride he felt as you talked about his acting, how much you enjoyed his films, left him itching to join in. That's my son, he thinks, isn't he amazing? Isn't he talented? He stays quiet though, soaking in your words as he realizes Vil may be right. Perhaps he's not too old for crushes after all...

⋆ You couldn't help but notice how Vil would stare at you throughout working together, almost like he was staring through you rather than at you. You wondered what you could have done to cause this reaction from him, having only met him that day. You were surprised when he approached you after filming ended, his arms crossed as he stared. It was like he was examining you, looking at you from head to toe. You were unsure what to do, ready to say something until he spoke, breaking the silence.

"So, you're Name, correct?" You nod, telling him yes as he continues,

"I heard you've been a staff member for quite some time now, working with plenty of celebrities. Tell me, have you ever worked with Eric Venue, by chance?"

You pause for a moment, processing his question before confirming, telling him you have worked with Eric before. A small smile comes to his face at your response, coming a little close towards you.

"I hear he's a very private person, never talking about his personal life. Since you've worked with him before, I'm curious...have you heard anything about him?"

You shake your head, telling him you haven't heard anything. You go on to say that anything Eric has told you is confidential, and that if Vil wishes to know something, he would need to ask Eric himself directly.

⋆ Vil looks displeased, going on to ask if you'd be willing to tell him for money, which you automatically decline, repeating what you told him before. After a moment a smile comes to Vil's face, looking pleased as he nods his head, making you feel like you passed some sort of test. The smile stays on his face as he wishes you a good day, leaving you standing there in confusion, wondering what that was about. As you're getting ready for bed that night you get a text from an unknown number, the person claiming to be Eric. You call the number to confirm, hearing him laugh on the other end as he tells you it's his personal number, leaving you in disbelief. Before the call ends, he asks if you'd like to get a coffee with him tomorrow, your heart racing as you agree. Little did you know just how important your first meeting with Vil was, leading to the start of your relationship with Eric.

⋆ Other than Vil, you were Eric's best kept secret, the public unaware you were together. You didn't care that your relationship had to be private, that you couldn't be shown off like most celebrities do with their partners. What you cared about was Eric, the man who remembered anything you would tell him, even noticing things you never mentioned. Eric, the man you could laugh and joke with, always having a good time. Eric, the man who cares deeply for those close to him, wanting them to be happy without worrying about the public having eyes on them.

⋆ It wasn't until you were together for a while that he decided to introduce you to his son, telling you he would be coming home soon for winter break. You knew how big this was, his son being the most important thing in his life. It showed just how much he cared for you, just how much he trusted you. This was HUGE. You couldn't help but stress out over it, wanting to make a good first impression. It wasn't until you opened the door that you realized Oh, his son is Vil Schoenheit ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

Tag list: @midnightmah07

#♡.sheep writes #♡.twst #♡.eric venue #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #eric venue #eric venue x reader #twst spoilers

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thebookbutterfly · 2 months

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Hey there! Could you possibly write a Sandor Clegane x gender neutral reader where Sandor has a soft spot for reader and reader feels the same? He tries to hide it but one day reader get’s hurt and he patches them up and maybe confessions come out?

🦋 Little Bird— Sandor Clegane x gn!Reader

Summary: You get injured in an ambush. Sandor carries you to safety and takes care of you.

Tags: #so much hurt/comfort, #a teensy bit of angst, #fluffy ending, #potentially OOC Sandor Clegane but personally I think he is pretty baby girl, #request

Warnings: Gender Neutral, no use of Y/N, descriptions of blood and injury, mentions of death, cannon compliant threats of violence, no beta and no ‘ragrets' [1,371 words]

AN: This is a request by @agender-wolfie. I really hope that this is what you were looking for! It came out a bit longer than I intended, but I am such a sucker for hurt/comfort tropes I really shouldn’t be surprised lmao. I wrote this all in one sitting and I haven’t done any editing so please excuse any errors. Happy reading! 🦋 Love BB

If you like this work my requests are currently open! So please give me your ideas ;)

You hissed a curse, gravelly and threadbare, as Sandor sidestepped another fallen tree.

A jumble of vulgar expressions that barely registered to you as they left your mouth. Almost all of them taught to you by the giant man holding you to his chest. The hound cradled you surprisingly gently, but his tension was evident. It was written all over him.

His scarred face, which you so rarely got the opportunity to study, was pulled into a broken grimace. The rest of him taut like a wire ready to snap beneath his armour. If you weren’t bleeding all over him, you might have reached up to prod the furrow of his brow. A silly attempt to smooth away Sandor’s permanent scowl.

The thought shattered as another wave pain tore through your ribs. Every bump in the path sowing fresh agony in the ruined skin and muscle.

Sandor ran a calloused thumb over the side of your knee in apology. Uttering clumsy noises of comfort as he picked up the pace.

“We’re almost there. Hold on just a bit longer, little bird.”

His gruff voice was cut with a noticeable amount of panic. Your brow scrunched at the unusual sound. You had gotten used to many things about Sandor as you travelled North with him. His rough sense of humour, bitter attitude, scarred face and huge stature were familiar to you by now. Underneath those things, his kindness and his softheartedness had become apparent to you too.

All the vulnerable pieces of himself that he smothered and choked beneath layers of vulgar humour and recklessness, had been presented to you in glimpses as you got to know him. But panic? Panic was new to you.

The farmhouse that Sandor had marked out in the distance finally drew into view. Up close it was a measly grey thing. The stone masonry looked haphazard at best but its chimney puffed with life. Behind it a barn lay with its doors open and rattling in the freezing wind.

You expected Sandor to head straight for the shelter of the barn but instead he strode to the front door. The family of four, seated around the dining room table inside, scrambled back as he slammed open the door with his usual subtlety. Which was to say— none at all.

You groaned as the sudden movement jostled your wound. Normally you would have chastised him for being so rude but your head was swimming. Too weak to lift your hand, you focused your energy on your eyes. Willing them to stay open, if not for your sake then for the sake of your worried companion.

An old man stepped forward to speak but Sandor cut him off, “One of you better be a healer, because if they die I will mount all of your heads outside on sticks.”

It was an ugly threat and they paled. The youngest boy whimpered looking suddenly ill. A younger woman with dark hair and a generous smattering of freckles stepped forward. She gestured a slightly shaky hand towards the table before him, before turning to her family.

“Clear the table, quickly. We can lay them down here,” her attention shifted back to the massive man standing in the doorway, “I’m not a healer by profession but I’ll do everything I can.”

Sandor seemed pleased enough by this answer. The rest of the family had been wise enough not to put up a fight and so Sandor stepped forward. He eased his grip and lay you down on the hastily cleared surface.

He moved to step away and let this stranger do her work but you whimpered. Fingertips clutching at air until he shifted back into reach.

A leather belt was stuffed between your teeth as your tunic was torn up the side. Unfamiliar hands grasped at your arms and legs. Holding you down with a bruising grip. All the while, Sandor brushed his bloodied fingers over your forehead and through your hair. The warmth of his skin a small consolation for the pain you were about to endure.

The woman lifted a needle and thread. With a glance at Sandor and his affirming nod she began to count down and you closed your eyes, unable to look.

Three.

Two.

One.

Fire. Your body was on fire. You arched off the table. Trying to escape the agony, the needle slowly piecing your flesh back together. The table shook as you thrashed but the hands holding you down didn’t falter. Sandor’s gravely words of comfort were the last things ringing in your ears as the world went black.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first thing that you noticed when you woke up was the lack of pain. Your side still ached, the wound tender, but it was a dull throbbing now. No longer, the screaming torture it was as Sandor carried you away from where you were ambushed.

The second was the warmth. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this warm since you and Sandor had journeyed across the border into the North. Sandor.

You opened your eyes slowly. The lighting was dim but from what you could tell you were inside the barn. The door was closed now though and soft orange candlelight illuminated the space.

You lay on your good side underneath a thick layer of blankets, and next to you lay the man your eyes sought for. His arm tucked you to him, large calloused hand resting somewhere on your lower back.

His heart thudded rhythmically beneath where your head lay on his chest. His even breathing and faint snores filled the quiet. Despite your inner protests it was the most comfortable you had been in years.

You gazed up at him, not wanting to wake him just yet. Sandor didn’t sleep nearly enough and you were content to watch the way the candlelight danced across his skin. It caught on his scarred cheek. Shadows flickering on the panes of his face.

Unable to resist you lifted a hand to his cheek. Your touch was featherlight but his eyes snapped open. Sandor’s gaze flicked to you immediately. Scanning you for distress and finding none, his body relaxed.

“Seven Hells, I thought you were going to die. Never do that again,” he said gruffly. His cheeks were flushed but he made no move to shift away from you.

Your voice was cracked from screaming but you still managed to mumble, “M’Sorry.”

Sandor sighed, “It wasn’t your fault, little bird.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a water-skein. Unscrewing the top he held it out towards you.

“Here, drink. Then you can go back to sleep,” he said.

“Thank you.”

The moisture eased the pain in your throat and soon you were snuggled back up under Sandor’s arm. The wind howled through the rafters and you both sat in silence for a little while.

Your thoughts broke the quiet, “Thank you for carrying me here. Thank you for staying.”

Sandor’s eyes met yours, they were unguarded and soft in a way that seemed reserved for you. Reserved for these conversations in the dark.

His voice was low as he replied, “I would have carried you to the ends of the earth, little bird.”

You studied him, the scars that mottled his skin, the cut on his brow and the curl of his mouth. Something deep within you settled, like a cat stretching out on a rug.

“You’re a good man, Sandor Clegane,” you said.

The conviction in your voice hit him harder than any blow on the battlefield ever had. The tidal wave of emotions that followed threatened to take him under but he swallowed them down.

You pretended not to notice his watery eyes and he lifted his spare hand to stroke your head. “Go to sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”

You nodded sleepily, too tired to fight it off any longer. A few seconds pass before you feel it. The soft press of his lips on your forehead. They linger there for a while before he pulls back, the warmth that they leave behind searing like a brand on your skin. You smile as you drift off, lulled to sleep by his warm embrace and steady breathing.

“Goodnight, little bird.”

#bbrequestlist #sandor clegane x reader #sandor x reader #sandor clegane #sandor the hound clegane #got #game of thrones #sandor clegane x you #the hound #tyrion lannister #sansa stark #oberyn x reader #prince oberyn #no use of y/n #hurt/comfort #whump #request #banners by cafekitsune

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unhclydiivinty · 2 years

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Young homelander faceclaim: Zack Morris

#fc #young homelander #homelander #ooc; hound speaks

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the-trails-we-blaze · 2 months

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Gallagher is live!

#mun speak #ooc #old hound's tooth (gallagher)#visage (muse)

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descendinginto-madness · 2 months

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your first and final chance.

word count: 618

content warnings: injury & death, description of a death scene (mild gore)

summary: welt yang is a smart man. sometimes, it does him more harm than good.

both the story and the author's note contain spoilers for 2.1 hsr update!

author's note: ookay. so. oh my god. ummm 😋 welt x gallagher gone terribly wrong! "ship so good they kill each other" to quote my friend. though! here we just have an implied past relationship. but i'll write something nice for them idk man i just!! can see them together!! idk what i'm doing though!! idk man. i'm sorry if they're ooc once i have more time i might take this fic and make it longer and uh. also here. my assumption is that welt guessed something's wrong abt gallagher (we all know there is) and yaaaaaa idk man.idk!! i love rambling fr

“I'll give you one chance to surrender, Mr. Yang.”

Welt looks at Gallagher when he speaks; the man’s smile is all the same, just like before, but there's a hint of something else in his eyes. Something… Dangerous - though not enough to scare Welt; there are few things that would actually manage to do that.

Of course, it’s already clear to him this won't be a peaceful conversation, as Gallagher has initially promised— he expected it much earlier, the moment the Hound requested they talk. He's confident in his own abilities, though; even going against something the nature of he doesn't necessarily fully understand.

If the others were here with him - if he'd allow them to accompany him in the first place - he’d likely feel different. He'd be more cautious. But he's alone right now, and that means that he doesn't have to pay that too much mind - for now, at least.

So, to Gallagher’s words, he only raises his eyebrows slightly.

“Is this the real reason why you wanted to see me?”

Gallagher laughs quietly.

“Yes and no. You're a bit too observant, Mr. Yang.” He steps closer, but Welt doesn't move; his grip on his cane only tightens a little bit. “I won't lie, I'm impressed, but I can't just allow you to run around with this knowledge, risking that you’ll expose me, can I?” He raises his hand, and his thumb brushes against Welt's cheek gently. A while ago, perhaps he'd like to lean into this touch. Right now, it's not comforting, but rather feels… filthy. He doesn't let anything of that show, though; he's letting Gallagher talk. “The thought of having to get rid of you is pretty upsetting, though. I thought I'll invite you here, and maybe we'll be able to come to an agreement.”

Welt frowns at these words.

“I won't negotiate with you,” he says. His voice is calm, but cold. “Nor join forces with you.”

“Ah.” The Hound looks at him with a thoughtful smile, before taking a step back, his hand falling back to his side. “I see. I thought you might be willing to, since you came here, and confronted me about what you had discovered before sharing it with your trusted companions– but I guess I was wrong.”

There's warmth coming to Welt's face, a slightest hint of red on his cheeks, barely noticeable but still there - embarrassment, perhaps. It is true; he chose to settle this privately first, for a reason not particularly clear even to him. He knows he has misplaced his trust once again, and yet something stopped him from exposing Gallagher as the murderer first thing.

He doesn't want to dwell on it too much right now. He will have time later.

“But that means I don't really have a choice,” Gallagher adds. Perhaps he'd scare someone else with such a statement; Welt doesn't feel much, though.

“What makes you think that it'll be easy to get rid of me, Mr. Gallagher?” he asks.

The other man just laughs.

“It might be much easier than you think, Mr. Yang.”

Welt opens his mouth to reply, but then a shadow appears behind him.

Despite his age his reflexes are still well, his body still quite agile, but the Death is faster; he barely has any time to react, to even process what's happening, before something pierces through his body. It's accompanied by a blood-curdling screech and tears through his body, ripping his flesh, crushing the bones in its way. Blood splatters around the room when Gallagher's silhouette fades as his vision becomes blurry and then goes entirely dark.

“...What a shame,” Gallagher says, looking at the pool of blood on the floor, and laughs.

divider by @/cafekitsune

#angstpril2024 #honkai star rail #fanfiction #day17 #last chance #hsr #welt yang #gallagher #tw death #tw injury #tw blood #dim writing ☁️

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bokutosmochi · 2 years

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WORTH BEING SECOND BEST ♡ IWAIZUMI HAJIME

iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader

ingredients? perhaps being "second best" and not having other people crowding him all the time had its perks. what's it? fluff allergen warning/s? delves into iwaizumi's insecurities and the stuff he doesn't project outwardly so maybe he's a lil ooc. sugar level? 2.3k regulars? @hanayanetwork @tahonet @tokyometronetwork parlor's note? iwaizumi, along with eita who i can't shut up about are so underrated ugh.

bon appetit!

iwaizumi's been oikawa's friend for more or less a good fifteen years now and as such, he's come to the conclusion that there are pros and cons to holding the title of oikawa toru's best friend.

the pros? one, toru's entertaining. whether it be with his latest gossip that he may or may not have gotten from a fangirl who snitched on their friend just to gain his attention for a few measly seconds or him hitting himself in the head with the volleyball trying to better his serve, oikawa always knew how to make iwaizumi feel happy (and worried, but that's just part of the Oikawa Toru's Friend Experience, he reckons).

two, he's genuine, even if it may not seem like that to some people. if he smirks at the rival team's captain, telling him they're gonna be the one headed to nationals, that's what he's planning to do. if he tells them to do their best, oikawa wants them to do their best as he's aware that the competition will sharpen him to be better. if he thanks a fanboy for the cookies he's baked for him, he's actually thankful. while the fan may be thinking that this is his movie moment, that the oikawa toru is going to be his boyfriend and oikawa doesn't really think much of the sweet gesture, he still actually appreciates it. besides, since after the breakup with his last girlfriend, oikawa wasn't really into the dating scene during high school, much too focused on finally defeating and humiliating shiratorizawa or ushijima wakatoshi in general.

and three, the one he cherishes the most is how they're like-minded people, both hardworking and studious. the brunette man never led him astray, never became a bad influence - at least not to the point of it becoming an issue - and never nagged him to just have fun. they both cared about their performances, polishing it to the best they can because like he said, talent is something to nurture and wisdom is something to hone. he probably wouldn't be as good at his profession as he is now without oikawa, but that's not something he's going to tell the man. there's no need for him to blow up his friend's ego even more.

the cons? he wants to say there's a lot, but to him, there really isn't much of those. not subjectively speaking anyways. he loves oikawa, he's his best friend and though he objectively had flaws, there weren't flaws to hajime because it made him him.

that being said, there are still two the bugged him to death.

having oikawa's fangirls and fanboys hounding them on school grounds all the time. they'd sit near iwaizumi in class, hoping to use his connection to their crush to build a connection of their own. there were even times where they'd plop down next to the two boys in aoba johsai's canteen, fawning for oikawa's eyes to be trained on them for a while. and as a person would imagine, iwaizumi's not the only person bothered by this. hanamaki and matsukawa stopped sitting with them for a while and that's the reason why. it'd be a different story if they were all over me though issei smirked the time iwaizumi and oikawa confronted the two of them about it. and honestly if he wasn't so nice, hajime would consider doing it too, but that's not the case. he's too damn nice for his own good, and sanity at that.

and the second one? it didn't just bug him, no. that'd be too small of a word to describe how much he hates it and hate sounds too much of a mean word so he settles on the word saddens.

it saddens him how he's always treated second best next to oikawa. sure, he's aware of just how talented (and good-looking) his friend is. out of everyone on this earth, whether a friend or someone standing across the court, iwaizumi knows oikawa better than them so this also means he knows how much oikawa deserves the praise he gets because the man doesn't half-ass anything. it simply was not in his dna. he always has the goal of being the best. saying you're gonna be the best is easier said than done. putting in the effort needed in order to be the best is easier said than done, but oikawa means it. he does it even if it's at his own expense, arriving home at eleven at night practicing jump serves or getting absolutely exhausted. anything for his hard to reach goal.

but did people have to rub it in iwaizumi's face all the time?

whether it was people working for the news saying things like "people have always said that the person who foes fear when across the court is the ace, but when you glance at this powerhouse school, you will see that this statement is no longer true. this is the new breed of setters!" or his friend's fans pushing through him to get to his best friend, it was always made clear to him that he was just second best to oikawa. people whether consciously or unconsciously have shoved it into his brain so much, that he began to internalize it.

but he kept all that down, he didn't want the man in question to know. he didn't have to know. he didn't want his pity or his trying-to-be-comforting words because it'd do nothing. this has been happening for far too long for iwaizumi to just suddenly, magically feel better after a few words of praise.

but then you enter his life and everything he knows is turned upside down.

you hand him appetizing homemade chocolate truffles you made along with a good luck charm a few moments before his team faces shiratorizawa in the finals during this third year. when he tells you that he'll give it to oikawa as soon as he manages to wrangle the boy from the girls crowding him, you shake your head at him, wearing a confused look on your face. "may i ask why? they're for you."

you asked him to hang out a few weeks after he approached you at school, telling you about how good the truffles you made were. he asked if you wanted him to bring oikawa - something he doesn't typically do, but he figures you're worth it when you're able to cook so well. maybe when you bring oikawa something, he'll be kind enough to share - and you told him that it'd be preferred if it's just the two of you. his heart clenched in his chest when you told that he could bring his friend if it'd make him more comfortable even though you ultimately just wanted to get to know your school's ace.

you asked him out on a date while the two of you were in a phone call, making the first move and showing actual interest in him and just him. your voice was shaky, it seemed like you were scared of messing things up between the two of you, but that didn't happen because iwaizumi was more than happy to say yes. then you picked him up and paid the bill -- even though you only ate at a cheap ramen place because you were broke high school students that are months away from going to college. on top of that, you even offered to walk him home, but he figures you've already done enough. he does it to you instead.

you love him, embrace him, nurture him so perfectly and it makes his heart flutter and cheeks heat up. the way you intertwined your pinkies together while walking or the way always let him use your shoulder as a pillow to sleep on during train rides home makes him feel safe, secure. like he can be himself when he's with you. and he can, you accept him for all that he is.

then you cry when he breaks the news to you that he'll be moving to america for university despite not being together for a very long time. you cling onto him for the rest of the night, deciding to stay over theirs since both of your parents were away. you claimed that the reason you're doing this is to make sure the monsters in his closet doesn't get him, when you know it's so you can spend a few more precious minutes with the man you've loved since you were a first year in aoba johsai high.

you were in the car at three in the morning with his family as they drove him to the airport, letting a few tears down when you bury your face into his chest, bidding him a farewell, then a few more during the drive home. his family who has grown quite fond of you has kindly driven you home so you could not have to walk or take the bus at this late hour. you also appreciated how they didn't stare at you through their peripherals, letting you wallow in your own sadness during the one and half hour drive. as much as you adored them, having met them and talked to them already because of all the iwaizumi family dinners you've been invited to, you really did not want to talk right now. you weren't in the mood for it.

iwaizumi doesn't stay in the californian apartment they rented out during the few weeks of arriving in the foreign place. he stays over his aunt's place just so he has a stable support system while he lets himself get adjusted to north america, to california because it wasn't easy. the culture shock hit him harder than he'd like to admit. he starts to miss everything about home, the atmosphere, the food, the culture, his family and friends even goddamn shittywaka. and then he misses you too. misses how your hand fit perfectly in his, how well you treat him and how special you make him feel, the texture of your lips on his, the butterflies in his stomach that only seem to come alive whenever your around.

and the worst part of this whole ordeal is that he doesn't know when he'll see you again. hell, he doesn't even know if he'll see you again or if your fate is just gonna be like all those long distance relationship horror stories heard of. your good mornings will be during his evening, and his good night will be received by you at eight in the morning. that slowly, slowly, the passion between the two of you is just going to fade away into nothingness.

he can't bear the thought of that so he swears to himself that he'll do anything to keep your relationship alive, even if it meant to go to sleep at three in the morning and be awake at five to study and ready for his morning classes.

but you bested him.

it's you who's positioned on the sofa of his new suspiciously cheap apartment, laying down on your back oh-so nonchalantly like you're home where you're supposed to be, like you aren't hundreds of miles away from your homeland. you have your hands folded behind your head and when you catch his confused gaze, you simply shoot him a smile and a wave of a hand that he's missed holding so much that it makes tears prick the corners of his eyes during those bad, bad nights where the homesickness is especially haunting. "hey haji!"

he can't help but run to you, to pull you out of the couch and hug you so tightly that you couldn't breathe and it's fine, you didn't mind because you yearned for his presence and cursed his absence as much as he did for you. which brings him to "what the fuck are you doing here?" it's said fondly and iwaizumi has a genuine smile on his face, one of the biggest ones he's ever sported in his life, he's sure. it comes along with the biggest surprise he's ever had - not that he had a lot of those - in his life too.

"i go to your university now too!" you grinned at him, keeping your arms around his muscled figure. "and i'm your roommate."

he still had so many questions,

did his family know about this?

did yours?

did they approve of the both of you living together?

is this their idea in the first place?

but right now, he couldn't care less. he leaned down to capture your lips with his in a kiss, though it wasn't much of it. it was more like laughing and teeth colliding because of how you couldn't stop smiling, running your hands over each other's bodies. it was nothing sexual, it was simply relishing the fact that the other half of you, your better half is right here. it's making sure you're not dreaming, and making sure that if you are, you'll remember every detail, every dip and bump of the other even after you wake up to empty sheets with no one beside you.

iwaizumi decided that being second best to oikawa might not be that bad if it led him to you.

i get: reblog

you get: iwaizumi's old volleyball jersey

#order of the day!#order up for iwaizumi!#one matcha mochi #with a side of coconut italian ice #iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi one shot #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime fluff #iwaizumi hajime one shot #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x you #haikyuu!!#haikyu!! fluff #haikyuu!! one shot #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x you

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disneyanddisneyships · 3 months

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Get Down

Warnings: Alastor being OOC. This is in no way supposed to be in Canon universe yall. This is purely for fun. I know Alastor is Ace.

Pairings: Alastor x aponi

Summary: Alastor confronts aponi after what he saw the night before. Aponi proves she doesn't need him anymore. (Part 3 of "me too")

Taglist: @gyubby99

After the events of the night prior Aponi found herself more closed off to Alastor than usual.

Which Alastor noticed, of course.

All day he had been trying to get her alone to talk. After witnessing her breakdown last night and realizing why she broke up with him, he felt as if he needed to confirm.

He hated the feelings in his stomach. He hated that somehow she was the only one to bring these feelings onto him. And he hated that at times, he didn't mind it.

"Lilly," Alastor stated as he appeared in front of her, his smile ever present.

Aponi rolled her eyes. "What do you need?" She asked as she helped to position a dancer.

"I was wondering if we could speak... alone," Alastor all but muttered.

Aponi scoffed. "Why, you wanna yell at me in private?"

"Why must you be so stubborn?!" Alastor asked a but louder thus time.

"HAH. you're one to talk," Aponi replied as she walked away to get her water bottle.

"Look at me," Alastor commanded.

Aponi rolled her eyes, ignoring him.

"You would be nothing without me! Admit it!" He shouted, his smile straining.

"Admit what?!" Aponi asked, finally turning around.

"That you miss me!" Alastor stated sith a cocktail smile as if it was the most obvious thing in the room.

At this point everyone in the room was staring.

"HAH! HAHAHAHAH!" Aponi laughed. "You wanna see how much I miss you?" She asked.

Alastor stayed silent.

"Music," Aponi stated as her dancers moved to put on music Aponi had picked out to teach them today.

Sittin' here all alone On a throne

Aponi sang as she sat on a chair that her dancers brought out for her.

In a palace that I happen to own

She sang, gesturing to the whole room and in return, the whole building.

Bring me some pheasant Keep it on the bone

She sang with a glare.

Fill my goblet up to the brim Sippin' on mead and I spill it on my dress With the gold lace trim Not very prim and proper Can't make me stop

As she sang, her dancers brought her a wine glass, filling it with wine before she took a quick sip of the drink.

I wanna go hunting, any takers? I'm not fake 'cause I've got acres and acres Paid for with my own riches

She sang as she pulled out some coins from her purse, letting them clatter to the floor.

Where my hounds at? Release the bitches (Woof)

Her dancers surrounded her, singing along before aponi stood up and began walking toward Alastor.

Everyday Head back for a round of croquet, yeah 'Cause I'm a player And tomorrow, I'll hit replay

She stated with a smirk before walking around the room as the music picked up.

You, you said that I tricked ya 'Cause I, I didn't look like my profile picture Too, too bad I don't agree So I'm gonna hang it up for everyone to see And you can't stop me 'cause

As she walked, her dancers followed, dancing in perfect harmony as if they had practiced this. (They did)

Aponi made her way back to the middle of the room, sitting back down in her chair as her antennae sprouted from her head and her wings grew from her back.

I'm the queen of the castle Get down, you dirty rascal

She sang as the lights turned off, the spotlights highlighting her features as her dancers moved her around the room in her chair.

Get down Get down Get down you dirty rascal Get down Get down 'Cause I'm the queen of the castle

As the music went on Alastor rolled his eyes before his grip on his microphone got tighter at the sound of Charlie behind him.

"Shes really cool," Charlie stated as she watched the performance.

Hey When I get bored I go to court

Aponi stated with a wink before moving to dance again.

Pull up outside in my carriage

She sang as she and her dancers pranced around in perfect rhythm.

Don't got no marriage

She held up her hand, absent of the ring alastor had gifted her.

So I have a little flirt with the footman As he takes my fur (huh!)

She stated as she threw off her sweater.

Her dancers gasped as she stood like that for a few beats, a smile on her face as she looked to alastor.

As you were

She winked again.

Making my way to the dance floor

She sang more as she walked into the middle of the room, striking a pose.

Some boys make an advance I ignore them As my jam comes on the lute

Her movements paused as the sound of a lute played.

Lookin' cute Das ist gut

She giggled as she started dancing.

All eyes on me

Her dancers kneeled down, looking at her as she sang.

(No criticism) I look more rad than Lutheranism

She moved her hands to pose as if she was praying.

Dance so hard that I'm causin' a sensation

She stated as she danced to the beat.

Okay ladies, let's get in reformation

She sang with a smirk as her dancers lined up next to her.

You, you said that I tricked ya 'Cause I, I didn't look like my profile picture Too, too bad I don't agree So I'm gonna hang it up for everyone to see And you can't stop me 'cause

As she sang she began dancing even more.

Alastor's smile strained in a small amount of heartbreak. He hated these feelings.

I'm the queen of the castle Get down, you dirty rascal Get down (yeah, hey) Get down you dirty rascal Get down Get down 'Cause I'm the queen of the castle

As the music went on, aponi continued to dance, the look on her face free as she smiled through the lyrics and music.

Hey, best friend, here's the thing

She stated as she saddled up next to angel before turning to Charlie.

Now, I ain't saying I'm a gold digger But check my prenup, ahh! And go figure

Aponi giggled as she sang.

Got gold chains Symbolic of my faith to the higher power In the (fast lane)

Aponi gestured to her outfit, a gold accentuated top with gold jewelry she wore for the performance today.

My horses can trot up to twelve miles an hour Let me explain I'm a Wienerschnitzel, not an English flower

She and her dancers moved to the beat, smiles on all of their faces as they had fun.

No one tells me I need a rich man Doin' my thing in my palace in Richmond

She yelled in alastors face, rage on her features.

You (hey), you said that I tricked ya (tricked ya) 'Cause I, I didn't look like my profile picture Too, too bad I don't agree (no) So I'm gonna hang it up (hang it up, hang it up) for everyone to see (Henry!) And you can't (no) stop (uh uh), you can't stop me, 'cause

Her dancers began to sing as well as she danced, performing flips and twirls that were too advanced for some people.

'Cause I'm the queen of the castle

As the lights went down for effect, aponi smirked at alastor.

Get down, you dirty rascal Get down (ah, you get up, get up) Get down (okay, okay, that was cute, that's enough) Get down, this is my song, honey (ge-ge-uh-ge-ge-uh-ge-ge get) Get down

As the song went, aponi encouraged others to join the song.

After a while everyone in the room was dancing except for alastor.

"Cause I'm the queen of the castle," aponi stated, crossing her arms only a few inches away from Alastor.

All the dancers in the room applauded and supported one another as aponi and alastor continued to glare.

"Lilly, I-"

"It's Aponi, to you, radio demon," Aponi stated before walking away. "Alright Charlie let's see if you and your friends have been practicing!" Aponi stated with a smile as she walked away from alastor.

#Spotify

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