#ray master filter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shalomniscient · 5 months

Text

greetings gamers. my return to this webbed site approaches so i just wanted to say thanks for sticking around !! *throws arle fluff smut at y'all*

cw. [NSFT UTC] gross amounts of fluff, praise, creampie, kinda lazy morning sex yk notes. this is kind of selfship adjacent but can be read as a normal readerfic as well taglist. my comrade in arms of arle fluff nation @e-hibiscus 🫡🫡🫡

“dearest.”

arlecchino’s voice is barely above a whisper as she tries—and fails—to sit up on the bed. the cause? your arms wound tightly around her waist, and your face nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“hm?” you respond with a lazy hum, snuggling even closer to her, if possible. your body is soft against her firmer one, and her hands rest placidly on your waist. she could simply move you, it wouldn’t be difficult at all for her, but she doesn’t. she can’t seem to be able to find the heart.

“i have work to attend to,” she reasons with you. “you know this.”

you breathe out a giggle against her neck. “okay. go, then.”

not surreptitiously at all, your arms get ever so slightly tighter around her, and she sighs. “beloved…”

“what?” you ask innocently, a self-satisfied, cheeky grin on your face. it’s such a lighthearted expression on you that she feels her conviction tremble in its presence. she has long mastered anger and sorrow, but the love you coax out of her still seems to be as wild and free as the day it was born.

“i cannot leave if you do not let me go,” she says, and you shrug, eyes twinkling with mirth. you lean in close, close enough that she can feel your warm breath spill across her own lips.

“then don’t,” you offer simply, and she rolls her eyes, but the slightest hint of a smile twitches at the corners of her mouth.

“you and i both know reality is far more complex than that,” she argues gently. the sunlight streaming through the windows only grows stronger by the minute, illuminating your lovely face in shades of gold. “my schedule does not allow for such leisure.”

your smile turns a twinge enigmatic, almost mischievous, and arlecchino’s eyes narrow. “doesn’t it?”

“little minx," she growls, but there's no bite to her tone. "what have you done?"

“managing your schedule is part of my duties, you know. and as your excellent adjutant, i made a few executive decisions on your behalf regarding your work-life balance.”

“‘a few executive decisions’,” she echoes, raising a brow. “i’m quite certain that is above the pay grade of mere adjutants, my dear.”

you roll your eyes at that, a teasing pout forming on your lips. “would you much prefer i make them as your wife, then?”

“immensely,” she agrees, and you laugh again, and arlecchino feels a swirl of butterflies come to life in her belly. how strange, that such feelings can be inspired in the soul of someone like her.

how beautiful, too.

“so will you stay?” you ask eventually, your tone hopeful, and she cannot find it anywhere in herself to deny you. not that she would want to, anyhow.

“it seems that i will,” she concedes. a free day is rare for her, and a free day to spend all with you even more so. she will not squander such an opportunity. “i am all yours, today.”

you beam at her then, and oh, not even the sun rays filtering in through the windows could even hope to compare to the brightness of your smile. you reduce her to a moon caught in your orbit, able to do nothing but reflect your radiance with a small smile of her own, one that only you could ever see.

your lips fit perfectly against her own when you kiss her, slow and sweet, as if she were something to savor. it sends thrills running up and down her spine, her cold blood starting to run hot. you must have noticed her reaction, because when you draw back, there’s a hungry glint in your eye that arlecchino is all too familiar with.

“i missed this,” you confess against her skin as your lips trail kisses down her neck. “missed having you.”

“we are hardly celibate even during work, my dear,” she chuckles, delighting in the way your teeth sink into your lower lip as you recall all the times the both of you had lost yourselves in each other at various places that normal people would certainly never dream of.

"that's different," you say, almost petulantly, and arlecchino runs a hand through your hair as you continue to reverently kiss your way down her body. and in a sense, she understands. desperate fucking between meetings in hidden hallways against cold walls or hard desks can certainly be enjoyable, but there is admittedly something special about this slower pace. perhaps, she muses to herself, as she lets the sensation of your lips over her skin wash over her, this is the love-making authors and poets write about.

her fingers wind tight in your hair and you squeak as she tugs you back to her lips so she can kiss you again, hungry and wanting. she has you properly straddle her hips, the fabric of her nightshirt ridden up to reveal the smooth muscle of her stomach. your hands trace the contours of her abs as you plunder her mouth, your tongue teasing the pointed tips of her canines and making her growl into your mouth.

"eager little thing," she murmurs when you draw back for breath, eyes half-lidded and dangerous in a way that makes your blood sing. her hands fall down to your hips, squeezing ever so slightly, and she delights in the way you're so soft under her touch. you take the opportunity to tug your own nightdress over your head and toss it over your shoulder, allowing her a stunning view of your bare upper body. and from where you're sat, low enough on her body, you can feel the twitch of her hard cock against your ass, still restrained by her sleep shorts.

you grin at her words, a hand reaching behind you to palm her through the fabric. the muscles in her jaw jump and flex as she grits her teeth. "pot, kettle, don't you think?"

"get on with it," she huffs, nails digging into your flesh ever so slightly as you tug her shorts down and free her aching cock, already dripping pre-cum. you look down lovingly at her as your fingers daintily wrap around her, exerting a delicate pressure as you pump your hand up and down. her eyes nearly flutter shut as she leans back into the pillows, the crosses of her pupils growing as she looks up at you.

as you continue to stroke her, she takes the liberty of rubbing her thumb over your stiff clit through your underwear. you jolt and squeak against her, surprised, though she keeps you firmly in place with her other hand. in doesn't take long for you to start rocking your hips, grinding against her hard abs and her thumb. your breathing deepens as pleasure ebbs through you like a tide, drawn and released by the gravity of your husband, your moon.

once she feels your slick drip through the now ruined fabric of your underwear and onto her skin, she stills your hips, and coaxes you to rise a little. you obey, and her dark hands push the fabric of your panties to the side while yours aligns her to your eager cunt. you gasp when the tip pushes in, the feeling of her stretching you out pleasurable in a way unlike anything else. you brace your hands on her chest and she coos at you as you take more and more of her.

"just like that, sweetheart," she murmurs, watching as more of her cock disappears into your tight heat, "so good for me, aren't you, sweet thing?"

you practically collapse onto her when she bottoms out, your hips now flush. your cunt clenches and squeezes and arlecchino has to resist the urge to fuck into you. she needs to let you adjust first. so she wraps her arms around you as you shiver on top of her, your face buried in her neck. her warm hands run up and down your spine, gentle, comforting, until your breathing evens out.

"ready?" she asks against your temple, and you whisper out your assent against her skin. arlecchino hums at that, shifting her legs to plant her feet flat on the bed. she offers you a soft, affectionate, "good girl" before she's pounding up into you, her strokes slow but deep, tip pushing up against that sweet spot inside you every time.

you can't do anything but tremble and moan. your whines and whimpers of fuck, so good, baby, so fucking good and right there, right there makes her go near delirious, rational thought slipping from her with each second. it doesn't take long for you to start clenching tighter around her, and she knows you're close. and you tell her as much, between breathy moans.

"'m close, baby, so close," you stutter out, pushing yourself up on trembling arms. your expression is pinched into one of pure pleasure, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes screwed shut. "oh, fuck--i love you, just like that, fuck, i love you so much--"

arlecchino groans as you babble your professions of love, her blood warming in her veins. not scorching like a raging flame, but still just as bright--like a hearth. "i know, sweetheart, i know," she mutters, driving into you harder with each thrust. "cum with me, sweet girl. can you do that for me?"

you nod eagerly, rocking your hips to chase the feeling of her cock dragging along your sensitive walls. arlecchino pulls you down by the neck with one hand to crash your lips together, while the other toys with your stiff clit through your thoroughly ruined panties. you whine and whimper into her mouth, and she swallows each noise eagerly, greedily.

"i love you," she breathes out, a hand on your cheek, thumb stroking the ridge of your cheekbone gently even as she pounds into you. "my sweet girl, my wife, my sun."

she kisses you again and then seats you firmly on her cock, her tip mashing against that spot inside you and pushing you over that edge. you practically wail into the kiss as your body tenses and trembles with each dizzying wave of pleasure. the force of your cunt bearing down on her pulls arlecchino along with you, and she groans as she cums, spilling ropes of cum into your squeezing cunt. her arms around you hold you close as you drift through both your highs until you come back down, panting against her chest.

she takes your hand, limp as it is, and brings it to her lips to kiss your knuckles. "take your time and rest, dearest," she hums, tilting your chin up to look her in the eyes. her gaze is soft, affectionate, but there's a hint of danger in them that makes your throat go dry in a good way.

"after all, thanks to you we have all the time in the world today, don't we?"

#sev.writes #[nsft]#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut

734 notes · View notes

sakkiichi · 1 year

Text

HERE COMES THE SUN.

They comfort you while you’re having a difficult time.

ft. Childe, Lyney, Albedo, Shikanoin Heizou x gn! reader.

cw/genre: hurt/comfort.

for my dear @https-furina I know you’ve been going through trying times lately, so I hope this can comfort you a little <3 I also struggled a lot with Heizou’s part, so I apologize if it’s no good at all…

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

✧ CHILDE

Linen sheets feel like ropes on raw skin against the morning chill.

Its warm cream color, ashen, nothing like the mirror sunrises you were used to witnessing right after you opened your eyes.

What’s the point in opening them anymore? You wonder.

You bury your face against the pillows. In any other occasion, you would have been grateful for the coolness of its silk.

Now it’s just an iceberg. Like a missing shard of your shallow beating heart.

“Someone’s sleepy today.” A familiarly perky voice greets, the mattress dipping slightly with new weight.

You rolling in the other direction is all the greeting that meets him.

“Hey, love! It’s time to wake up!” Childe chuckles, his hand gently shaking your body.

Yet something already tells him this is not right; you usually would have already shoved him away by now.

But today you’re just… unresponsive…

The dull oceans of his stare rise in dangerous waves at your state.

Hesitant, he calls your name, his tone more like a question.

And this time, he does get an answer.

Familiar arms he adores wrapped around him loop around his middle, your face burying against his chest.

You’re warm, yet you feel so… faraway… as if the pain of past memories was seeping out your light.

Ajax is no stranger to the despair palpable in your strong grip around him, he’s endured it himself, through years robbed of him by an abyss that turned him into a master of all weapons.

So because he’s known the cold of endless nights where all he had was a tattered red scarf to remember the warmth of a distant home, he now holds you.

And for someone whose hands were tainted in the filth and bloodshed of a lifetime of slaughter, Ajax is undeniably gentle.

His fingertips ghost over your skin, easing the burning anguish of bed covers that felt too rough, too suffocating, too wrong.

When your lover’s hands get lost in your hair, combing it, you swear sun rays filter through the deep sea you’re falling through.

And then, suddenly, the choice to swim upwards presents before you, scarred sun-kissed hands extended towards you.

You take them.

When you open your eyes, russet sunsets and constellations over your beloved’s skin greet you.

His lips find yours, a bit chapped but gentle; not his usual playfulness, but soothing aquamarine waves.

You swear Childe’s kiss tastes salty. And that’s when you realize the dry tear-tracks down your cheeks.

He made them dry, sunlight evaporating puddles after grey days.

You break the surface, the waters now turquoise beneath Ajax’s light.

He won’t let you sink again.

✧ LYNEY

A whole audience’s cheers fill the Opera Epiclese. Lights shine upon every smiling face, every vigourous clap of hands after the magician’s grand finale echoing through the theater.

However, the illusionist’s gaze of amethyst is focused on the sole grim expression amongst millions of joyous others.

Yours.

Your hands move, clapping together, as if automated; your eyes stare at everything, seeing nothing; your mouth is a taut line, your lips devoid of their usual vibrant tint.

Lyney doesn’t like that being his last memory before the curtain closes.

When you step out of the Opera House, an infinity of starfields is abloom across the crepuscular skies.

What a mockery; a cruel jinx on display, for you to see the unfulfilled sparks dimming inside your heart.

A sigh escapes your dry lips, a small cloud forming when it meets the late night chill.

“You’ll catch a cold there, mon coeur,” Someone you know, tricks and all, utters behind you.

Welcome warmth tinted in lavender envelops you the instant your eyes meet the magician’s starry ones.

A small smile tugs at your lips, the curse of melancholy still clinging to you through it.

“Lyney…” You start. The twilit breeze picks up around you, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself for some semblance of a warmth you haven’t felt in days.

“That won’t do, ma chérie.” Your lover chuckles.

Then, with a wave of his hand, a piece of the night sky itself seems to become tangible in his grasp.

“Here,” he offers, draping it over your shoulders.

Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s a shawl; the cloth feels delicate to the touch, quite fine too, and yet, you feel the warmth of a thousand suns. If you had to describe its color you would come up empty. Silver glitter seems to be embedded in the fabric, but at the same time, it looks like multiple tiny lights had been stitched to the material. You suppose you’d call the hue, dark; a myriad of indigoes merge into violets, threaded together with navies and cobalts. And yet, when you move it, the colors seem to shift, almost like the clouds drifting across this midnight.

“I take it you liked it.” Lyney smiles, softer than his usual cheshire-like grins, when he observes your wonderstruck features.

“Very…” You muse, awestruck at the magical silk.

“It’s a châle de ciel,” your beloved explains, “It will change depending on the state of the sky at each time of day.” He pauses, eyes, the color of lumidouce bells and rainbow rose petals merged, glinting as he admires how the garment fits you. “But I can guarantee,” your illusionist steps closer to you, plucking something out of your hair. “That it will always keep you comfortable… warm or cool, whatever you need.” He finishes, handing you a pluie lotus.

You take a few seconds to appreciate the second gift of the night. The flower’s petals are the same color as Lyney’s eyes, yet not as vivacious.

“Shall we go, mon amour?” Your boyfriend inquires, already offering your arm to him.

Together, you leave the opera house behind.

You hope for light blues on your new cape tomorrow morning. And somehow, you know that’s what you’ll find.

You squeeze Lyney’s arm gently. The sun will rise soon.

✧ ALBEDO

When he sets foot on his camp in Dragonspine, Albedo finds the heater already on.

Strange.

The sun hasn’t even quite awoken yet, the snowy peaks outlined against skies still clinging to dreamless cloudy nights; shards of ice, embedded in the softness of dawn clouds. An accurate representation of the region of freedom’s snowy mountains: menacingly beautiful, brimming with lethal charm, for one step in the wrong direction, and the cold might as well consume you for good.

At this hour, no one was ever already working at his lab, making of these moments calm sunrise-tinted memories in the alchemist’s mind, before the day’s hustle and bustle began.

However, today, the running heater is not the only out of the ordinary salutation to greet the chalk prince.

The acute sounds of clicking vials, books being rearranged and crunching snow are confirmation enough that he is, indeed, not alone.

With silent steps, Albedo advances, keeping one hand hovering over his trusty sword. Then, he finally lays eyes upon the cause for the commotion, and despite the lack of danger, the sight doesn’t calm him any better.

“My dearest?” He calls. The instant your gaze meets his, your condition scares him more than any bandits ransacking his research material. Your hair is messy, falling on your face; dark circles are etched beneath your lower lashline, darkness clinging to you like remnants of turbulent nights; and you’re shivering, whether from the cold or because you’re distempered he can’t quite discern, although it’s most likely due to both.

“Hello, ‘Bedo…” You mutter, the flesh of your lips bitten, flecks of Dragonspine’s freeze coating them, the cold lacing with your bones, chilling you to the core. Your eyes widen when you notice your lover’s teal gaze scrutinizing you. You quickly busy yourself with classifying some potions, by color and texture, whatever takes the longest for him not to worry about your less than ideal condition.

However, perhaps you underestimated his attention to detail; for he has a skilled artist, after all.

“My love, are you feeling alright?” He questions, gloved hands gently taking the crystal vial-filled wooden box you were carrying off your trembling hold.

And in that instant, you don’t know if it’s the warmth of your prince’s hands on yours; or the comfort of his voice, like honey on bitter tea, but you find yourself taking a deep breath, the fresh air of a midwinter’s sunrise filling your lungs.

And then you talk. You spill every worry and bad dream, your shadows opening up to the gilded starlight of him.

And through it all, the alchemist’s hands warm yours, fingers interlocked, very much in the way your souls are undeniably so too.

Because no matter how daunting the river seemed when you faced it alone, when you were with Albedo, its typhoons calmed down, stone bridges and his outstretched hand painting safety and comfort in hues of gold before your eyes.

While the kreideprinz grounds you, the sun reaches its peak, a canvas of aureate and cornflower blue grazing the mountaintops.

You would be okay.

✧ SHIKANOIN HEIZOU

Emerald eyes read through you as if you were made of clear glass.

The way you worry your lower lip between your teeth; your fingers almost going white at the knuckles as you clutch a pencil, its wood creaking in your grip; and the general absentminded state you’re in, papers scattered over your desk, several case files stacked in disarray.

Something is clearly weighting on your mind.

“I think a break’s in order, wouldn't you agree, sweetheart?” Heizou suggests, standing up, those striking eyes of his fixed on you.

The detective’s voice is enough to stop the quickening clock ticking in your mind, regrets and dark spirals momentarily coming to a halt.

When you rise your furrowed brow, shades of maroon and viridian flood your sight, vivid as summer and warming your up just as much.

Nodding, you stand up too, limbs feeling heavy despite the comfort of your lover beside you.

The brown shades of your office turn into blue skies and soft pink sakuras not long after, the scented tree branches swaying above you, like fragments of dreams someone had given up on, waiting to be picked up by another soul who dared to imagine.

Your back rests against your lover’s lean but strong torso, the sweet smelling breeze combing through your hair, as Heizou’s chin rests on your shoulder.

“So will you tell me what’s wrong, darling?” Are the words of his that break the birdsong-filled calm.

A pang settles on your chest, you didn’t want to take away that cheeky grin that most of the time decorated his quick-witted lips.

“I…” You hesitate. “Well, it’s- it’s complicated, Heizou…” Your lids flutter closed, a shaky breath raking through you, as you turn around in his embrace, your hands bracing on his shoulders. “I don’t want to bring the mood down, you know…”

The detective places a thumb on your lower lip, smoothing over the bite marks you left there earlier.

“You never, ever, bring the mood down, dear. Never.” He leans in, brushing a soft kiss over your forehead. “My intuition told me right away there was something up.” He takes a stray cherry blossom petal from your hair. “So, why don’t we take the rest of the day off, love?” Your partner proposes, as he takes your chin in between his fingers, mischief flashing in his features.

And perhaps your lover’s smile was more infectious than you had ever given it credit for; and maybe the way he flashes his green eyes at you has your heart trembling in ways that have nothing to do with the fear and guilt you’ve been festering, but you find yourself retorting back, with a grin of your own:

“Don’t you have cases to solve, detective Shikanoin?”

This time, he takes a full sakura flower, delicately placing it behind your ear.

“I have something more important to solve right here…” He smirks, cheekily, as he admires your now flustered expression.

When you lean the side of your head against his chest, he cradles it with one of his hands, the other playing with the ends of your hair.

It would be unfair, if gloom were to take your soul captive when spring seems to linger through Inazuma’s breeze.

With a last look at you, the detective’s maroon lashes flutter closed too. He hopes, at least for today, he managed to protect precious you from the crimes of cruel sorrow.

He leans his head on top of yours.

The case is solved.

1K notes · View notes

von2dutch · 4 months

Text

Sugar baby | Jey Uso

Chapter three

Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.

Pairing: Jey uso X Black Fem reader | word count: 2.1k | warning: smut, toxic behavior , protected sex | 18+ ONLY

Series master list

Tag list

@shayaaaaaaa

@trashbin-nie

@blacst4r

@paigereeder

@whatdoeseverybodywant

@empressdede

@superpietom

@bebesobrielo

@solefae

@skyesthebomb

@reci1996

If anyone doesn’t want to be tagged anymore please let me know!

Lastly, Enjoy.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

As the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon inside Jey’s hotel room , a chorus of birds greeted the dawn with a symphony of chirps and songs. The melodic sound filled the air, announcing the arrival of a fresh day full of possibilities.

The calm and tranquil feeling in the bedroom is one of comfort and safety, as if the world is at peace. With Dakota by his side of course.

Joshua slowly opened his eyes to a warm and radiant morning light filtering through the window.

As Jey looked over at Dakota, he saw her sleeping peacefully beside him. He couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in his heart as he watched her snuggled up against his chest, her arms wrapped around him tightly. The moment felt serene, and he took a deep breath, savoring it. He couldn't help but admire Dakota's beauty in that moment, as the soft glow of the moon illuminated her features and added an ethereal quality to the scene. It was a simple yet beautiful moment that he would always cherish.

He gently pulled her close with his arm, and planting soft kisses all over her face and neck, waking her up slowly but lovingly.

Jey had felt horrible about how he treated Dakota especially what he said to her a couple weeks ago when discussing being with her more than just a client.

He initially took in what his brother was saying and realized he loved Dakota not just what she did for him sexually but what she did for him mentally and physically because as much as he was there for her in those needs she was also there in those needs of his. With him being on the road 25/7 it sometimes gets lonely and sad but she always made sure to brighten his day even when she didn’t know she did.

His affection for her was not just a fleeting infatuation. It was a profound feeling that surpassed any previous experience he had ever had. This love penetrated through the depths of his heart and soul, and he had never felt anything like it before. He was completely consumed by her, and she had become the center of his whole universe. In his life, she was the beacon of hope that illuminated his path through even the darkest of times.

She's got him wrapped around her little finger, and he'd do anything to see her smile. He just needed to show her more than tell her and he was going staring today.

“Mmm Josh stop.” Dakota groaned moving her face away to stop the kisses he repeatedly left on her cheeks.

Chuckling he kissed her exposed neck annoying her even more “Ko baby get up I’m bored and I miss you.”

Opening her eyes staring back at his brown precious big eyes she could almlsh Melt into them but at moment all she felt was her love fading away from him because like he said she was just a client. “Josh don’t think cause we had sex last night that every is all dandy and cool cause it’s not.”

Joshua, sighed flustered, sat up abruptly. "Ko, I apologize. What more do you want me to say?" he asked, his tone reflecting a hint of desperation.

Getting out of his grasp she folded her arms looking at him like he was stupid “It’s not about what else I want you to say, I want you to acknowledge what you said.”

“Matter fact I’m done explaining myself cause remember I’m just your client it isn’t nothing else to it so it don’t matter I’m leaving.” Dakota attempted to get out of the bed to grab her clothes and leave but Joshua grabbed her pinning her arms down on the bed hovering over her as his sliver chain dangled in her face he stared in her eyes deeply.

“Dakota, you're more than just a client...I can't be away from you, can't go without seeing your radiant face or hearing your angelic voice. I want to be around you, soak up life with you, and just be beside you. Losing you would kill me. I love you with all of my heart.I don't want to miss a minute without you by my side. I love you Ko.”

“I want you and I’ll prove it by showing you then just telling you.”

That was it. Those words was something she thought she’d never hear but she did. All Dakota could do was stare back into his eyes taking in everything he had just told her. He was in love with her but she was also hesitant to believe maybe he was right he did need to show her.

“Joshua you don’t mean that you’re just telling me that because you want me to get over what you said.” Dakota said being stubborn no matter how much it melted her heart to hear him say those words she just couldn’t believe it.

Laughing to himself softly he knew she would be stubborn and he could handle it he just had to show her how much he meant it “Ko I mean that shit and if it takes me a million hours, years, or months to show you I will. I apologize for I what said I love you and I’ll show you.”

As he hovers above her, his gaze never wavers.He stares down at her with such intensity and passion, as if he owns her.He wants her back in his home, alone, just the two of them for a whole month.

He wants nothing but her all to himself, without any interference or distractions.

“That’s why I want to ask you to come back home with me while I’m off for the whole month just me and you…that’s if you want to mama.” He asked with pleading eyes.

Dakota pondered for a moment, her mind racing with thoughts and doubts. She wanted to believe him, to trust that he was sincere in his words. Could this be his opportunity to prove it? She took a deep breath and looked up at him, searching for any sign of insincerity. When she saw only a warm smile on his face, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. With a smile of her own, she answered, "Yes, I'll go with you."

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Instagram Story • Dakota Valentine

“It’s so beautiful here.” Dakota covered her eyes from the hard sunlight while she admired the beautiful landscape of Pensacola, Florida. The beautiful trees and water was something that amazed her how beautifully it was.

After a long flight from Atlanta in Jey’s private Jet alone just them two the more they spent alone the more she became to believe he actually meant what he said.

“Here ko.” Jey handed Dakota the keys to his home while he grabbed her luggage from the car his driver sat in. “Go unlock the door and chill I got everything and you better be laying down Frl ko.” He glared at her knowing how much she didn’t listen.

Rolling her eyes she caught the keys walking towards the door she threw the middle finger up at him “You already did.” He shot back smartly.

As she turned the doorknob and stepped inside, she found herself mesmerized by the sheer beauty of his home. Every time he had flown her out to his place when he was off, she was left in awe at the stunning interiors and the breathtaking exteriors. It was as if the first time she had visited his home was replayed in her mind every time she visited.

Dakota walked towards the refrigerator grabbing a drink of water before she plopped down on his white comforting couch she watched as the sunset rose in more beautifully the water waving softly the trees flowing through the wind she was so caught up into the sight that she didn’t hear Josh calling her name.

“Mama you good?”Jey asked sitting next to Dakota on the couch, gently and lovingly takes her feet into his hands.He removes her blue Dior slides and begins to gently rub and massage her feet, caressing every inch of her soft, smooth skin.

He places a gentle kiss on her foot, sending tingles through her body, before rubbing the other foot. She leans back into his hands and sighs contently as he spoils her with this attention and affection.

With a gentle nod of her head, she replied, "Yes, it's just that this place is so breathtakingly beautiful. It's been quite some time since I last visited, and I almost forgot how much I missed it."

“I know I changed some things around here too, remember that painting you wanted back in September when I took you too that art show? I got it hung up right there for you Ko.” He pointed towards the white painted wall where the panting hung.

“Aww thank you baby.” She blushed cheesing happily resting her head and back against the couch.

The two of them sat there in silence for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, Jey spoke up, his voice soft and gentle, breaking the comfortable stillness that had enveloped them. As he looked into Dakota's eyes, he spoke with a sincerity that could not be denied, “Dakota I meant what I said earlier.”

Sighing she looked back at him “I know but I want you to show me Joshua not tell me.”

“And I will trust me.”

Park West Beach

“Joshua you bet not have me at no damn water park! For me dressing up when I should be sleeping some damn where.” Dakota stressed as he had his hands covering her eyes leading her towards the beach she felt sand at her foot.

“Dakota shut up and be patient.”

“You shut up! You better not throw me in the water cause I feel sand at my feet and we are at the beach sir.”

Huffing Joshua smiled finally being at the location he desired for her he spoke “okay ima count to three and then I’ll uncover your eyes aight?”

“Yes.” Dakota answered softly geeked with anticipation and eager.

“1,2,3.” Removing his hand from her eyes he stood back watching as she took in what was in front of her.

Dakota's face lit up with a wide smile as she gazed at the mesmerizing sight in front of her. She could hardly believe that he had gone to so much trouble just for her. The ambiance was absolutely perfect, with flickering candles casting a warm, inviting glow all around them. Her favorite foods were carefully laid out on the table, tantalizing her senses with their mouth-watering aromas. The comfortable chairs beckoned to her, inviting her to sit down and relax. And all around them, fragrant roses bloomed, their delicate petals bathed in the soft light of the moon, as they sat beside the tranquil waters.

“J-Joshua you did all this?” She looked back at him with tears filling her eyes that she so desperately wanted to held back.

Smiling he embraced her into a hug leaving a few kisses on her face “Yeah I had Jimmy and trin help me, you like it?” He asked nervously, he was worried that she wouldn’t like it considering he wasn’t much a romantic partner but he tried and he always with over and beyond for Dakota no matter what.

His love ran deep for her that some would say he was infuriated with her.

“Do I love it? Of course!” She jumped into his arms Jey caught her with one arm wrapping her legs around him he held her tightly then two laughing.

“I can’t believe you did this for me.” She gushed once more before he sat her down gently on the circle chair he sat beside her holding her hand.

As she glanced around she couldn’t help but ask what did he do all this for? Was it to apologize? Because if so she wasn’t accepting it from him no matter how beautiful everything was.

“So what is all this for?” She asked knitting her eyebrows together while she looked into his eyes waiting for an answer.

“Well that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He took her hand into his moving closer to Dakota he stared directly into her eyes watching as she became nervously because she was biting her lip which he took notice of a few months back of when she was nervous.

“I know what I said a few weeks ago hurt you Ko and I apologize but not only that but I wanted to confess my love for you Dakota.” Jey left a few kisses on her Hand before taking a deep breath.

Jey's eyes burn with the passionate fire and desire he's had for Dakota for so long. He wants to express his love for her with a burning intensity, wants to claim her as his, and make her his in every way possible. It's not just an infatuation anymore, it's something so much more than that.He's obsessed, addicted, and obsessed with her.

As he watches her, he's hit in the gut with the depth of his feelings.It feels like a burning hot flame that's raging within him and he can't deny or stop. He's consumed by his love for her, intoxicated by her beauty and presence.

“I love you with every breath I take, with every beat of my heart", I couldn’t imagine life with you Ko and no matter how stubborn you are I’ll show you I mean it.” he confesses.

Jey holds her hands. He looks at her with pure adoration and devotion, his feelings so deep and his love so real.

"Dakota Kamire Valentine..." he whispers, taking a moment to take in her whole beauty and being.

He takes in a deep breath and continues. "Will you be my girlfriend? My partner in life? My soulmate?"

He stares deeply into her eyes, waiting for her answer, his heart pounding and aching.

Dakota's eyes widened in surprise as she gazed back at him, feeling a mix of emotions bubbling up inside her. She tried to avoid looking directly at him, scanning the surroundings instead, to control her tears. It was hard to believe that Jey Uso, the Joshua she had grown to know so well, was confessing his feelings for her on a picturesque beach, with just the two of them as witnesses. The beauty of the moment was almost too much to handle.

He wanted her and only her and he was going to show he meant it.

“Y-yes I’ll be your girlfriend Josh.” She stuttered tears leaving her eyes Jey embraced her into a hug before wiping her tears away she kissed him deeply.

“I can’t believe your silly ass just asked me to be your girlfriend.” Dakota chuckled wiping away her tears pushing at his chest playfully while smiling at him shyly.

“Yeah it took me a while but I had too I couldn’t stand you possibly being with someone else other than me Ko, I love you.”

"Josh, why did it take you so long to come clean about this? Was it because you were hoping I'd forgive you for what you said, or was it because you saw me at the club with another man and felt guilty? I need to know the truth, Josh," she said, her arms folded as she fixed him with a curious gaze.

“To be honest… It was because of what my brother said.” He spoke “I had realized that I fell in love with you ko and I was scared to admit it because of past experiences as far as my divorce I had a year ago I didn’t want to go through another heart ache if we never worked out Dakota with me being on the road I feared you’ll fall out of love with me too and find someone else new.”

“I feared that maybe you didn’t want this as much or I wasn’t enough but most importantly my one fears made me push back my feelings for you but no matter how hard I tried I always seemed to fall for you deeper and deeper.”

"You probably think I’m bullshiting, but there is truth to these words..You are the air in my lungs, the light in my eye, the smile on my face. You are everything to me, and without you...I feel lost and like a ghost of who I used to be.”

“Your gaze upon me is simply enchanting, it's like a magnet pulling me closer to you. Your mere presence ignites a flame of passion inside me, and I feel alive in your arms. The warmth of your touch sends shivers down my spine, and it's a sensation I never want to lose. You're the missing piece of my puzzle, the one who completes me in every way. I can't imagine my life without you; you're my every breath, my lifeline, and my everything. I love you more than words can express, Ko.”

Dakota couldn’t even spare a word to him after hearing him confess his love for her. She was stunned she couldn’t believe it that the one thing she wanted was happening before her eyes.

She love him just as much as he loved her.

“Aww Josh you gon make me cry…I hate you.” She said playfully before she wiped her tears falling from her eyes. She was in such awe.

“Don’t cry ma I just want to tell you how much I love you uce and I meant it.” Jey kissed her, her lips so soft and so sweet. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against his chest, the heat of their bodies making them close and intimate. He touches her body slightly, caressing the curves of her hip before letting his hand rest on her ass. He stares at her with desire, wanting to never stop touching her.

Dakota's eyes sparkled with love as she gazed at Joshua. "I love you, Joshua," she whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. "There's nothing else in this world that I want more than this moment with you." As she spoke, she reached up to caress his face, her fingertips gently tracing the contours of his beard. The touch was soft and delicate, but it conveyed a deep sense of affection and intimacy. Joshua felt a surge of emotion as he looked into her eyes, knowing that he was the luckiest person in the world to have her by his side.

While the two sat and watched the waves of the water flow by quietly Josh spoke “I got something for you.” He said before grabbing a gift from the side of him it was red roses and a jar full of poems of letters that he wrote confessions of his love for her.

“Since you said you liked hand written notes, I decided to do this , here’s 365 hand written notes.”

“Jey you didn’t.” She smiled grabbing the jar opening it she read a few notes in complete awe she couldn’t wait to tell Jasmine she was going to flip about this.

She chuckled softly, unable to contain her surprise as she looked at him. 'You really do have a memory like a steel trap,' she murmured, a hint of admiration in her voice. 'I said that months ago, and yet you remember it like it was just yesterday.' Her laughter was infectious as she leaned in to kiss him, grateful for his thoughtful nature.

“But I did and I wanted to it’s always the littlest things that matter and this is one of them baby.”

Jey gazed at Dakota with a look of compassion and sincerity, and spoke in a gentle tone, "I want to take away any pain that you have ever experienced, Ko. I want to help you heal and feel better."

“What if I told you that you did.” She admitted.

“You Frl ko?”

“Yes I’m Frl, when my mom passed you were there for me every step of the way Jey. With you being on the road and busy 24/7 you still made time for me, you still made sure I was okay no matter how many miles away you were from me it always felt like you were there with me. You made me feel whole again through those dark times and I appreciate and will always love you for that.” She stared at him watching him smile brightly hearing those words.

Jey looked at her, an adoration in his eyes as he stares.

"You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

His eyes are soft and tender, yet there is a desire in them.

"I only want you to be happy, Dakota, even if you'd be happier with someone else."

They both were in love and there wasn’t anything getting in the way of it.

Lovers till the end of time .

To be continued…

Hey my baby dolls I hope you all enjoyed this lovely chapter! I told y’all he would do better but next chapter will be not so great that’s all ima say na!

Happy Mother’s Day as well hope you all are having an amazing Sunday with your families.

Till next time. Love you all for tuning in🎀

242 notes · View notes

mika-mp3 · 3 months

Text

The treasure is all mine

-chapter three-

(Prologe, chapter one, chapter two, chapter four)

Genshin Impact x Creator!reader

warnings: no y/n used, slight yandere behavior, possible spelling errors, rain lol

summary: Tighnari leads you to his home; Gandharva Village, where you meet Collei. However.. they are starting to take note of the strange things happening around you and suspect there is more to who you are then what meets the eye....

characters: you, Tighnari, Collei

word count: 2159

wattpad story here

https://pin.it/1dI84VVUB

As the fire crackles and the rain continues to fall outside, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to drift into a restful sleep, your heart filled with hope and determination. The journey to uncover your past and discover your true identity has only just begun, and you are ready to embrace it, one step at a time.

The journey through the forest was both arduous and enlightening. Days melded into one another as Tighnari led you through the vast, dense woodland. The sun filtered through the towering trees, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor, while the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves provided a serene backdrop. Along the way, Tighnari shared his knowledge of the flora and fauna, teaching you about the medicinal properties of various plants and the habits of the forest's creatures.

One morning, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the leafs above, Tighnari turned to you, his eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and relief. "We're nearing Gandharva Village. It's a place of respite and learning for the Forest Rangers, often referred to as 'The City Above the Forest.' It's an important outpost, frequented by travelers, merchants, and adventurers."

Your heart quickened at the prospect of finally reaching a place of relative civilization. The forest had been beautiful, but the constant uncertainty of your situation had left you yearning for some stability.

"City Above the Forest?" you echoed, curiosity piqued.

Tighnari nodded. "Yes. Gandharva Village is built on a series of platforms and walkways suspended above the forest floor. It's designed to blend harmoniously with the natural environment, minimizing our footprint and maintaining the delicate balance of the ecosystem."

As you walked, the forest began to change subtly. The trees grew even taller, their trunks thicker and more ancient. The air felt different, fresher somehow, as if you were ascending into a different realm. You passed by shimmering waterfalls and crossed crystal-clear streams, each sight more breathtaking than the last.

Tighnari paused occasionally to point out interesting plants or animal tracks, his passion for the natural world evident in every word. "This is a varuna tree," he explained at one point, gesturing to an enormous tree with roots that seemed to span across the forest. "Its sap is highly prized for its healing properties. The rangers often collect it for medical use."

You nodded, absorbing the information. "It's incredible how everything in the forest seems to have a purpose."

"Indeed," Tighnari agreed. "Nature is a masterful teacher, if only we take the time to listen."

As the sun climbed higher, you finally caught sight of Gandharva Village. True to Tighnari's description, it was a marvel of engineering and nature. Wooden platforms connected by rope bridges and ladders formed a network high above the ground, blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. Lush greenery draped over the structures, and colorful flowers added vibrant splashes of color.

"Welcome to Gandharva Village," Tighnari said with a smile. "Let's head to my house. I want to conduct a thorough medical checkup to ensure you're alright."

You followed him across the swaying bridges, marveling at the ingenuity of the village's design. The air was filled with the scents of blooming flowers and the earthy aroma of the forest. Villagers greeted Tighnari warmly as you passed, their smiles reflecting the close-knit community spirit.

Arriving at Tighnari's house, you found it to be a cozy, well-kept dwelling, filled with books, herbs, and various scientific instruments. He gestured for you to sit on a comfortable chair by a large window that offered a stunning view of the forest canopy.

"Let's see," Tighnari began, retrieving a medical kit. "I'll check your vitals first."

You nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and nervousness. As he worked, his touch was gentle but precise, his eyes focused and attentive. The sense of care he exuded was reassuring.

As he examined you, Tighnari continued to share more about the village. "Gandharva Village serves as the main hub for the Forest Rangers. We monitor the forest, ensuring its health and safety. It's also a place where travelers can rest and resupply. The community here is diverse, with people from all walks of life coming together to protect and learn from the forest."

You listened intently, feeling a growing sense of connection to this place. "It sounds like a wonderful community. I can see why you love it here."

Tighnari smiled warmly. "It is. The forest is our lifeblood, and we do our best to live in harmony with it. Speaking of which, your readings are normal, but you need to stay warm and dry to avoid falling ill."

Before you could respond, the door to the house burst open, and a young girl with green hair and a sturdy looking bow rushed in. "Master Tighnari! You're back!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with relief. "I was so worried..."

Tighnari looked up, a mixture of surprise and warmth in his eyes. He fixes his clothing and walked over to her "Collei, it's good to see you. I didn't mean to worry you. We had an unexpected journey."

Collei's gaze shifted to you, her curiosity evident. "Who's this? Are you alright?"

You offered a small smile. "I'm fine, thank you. Tighnari has been taking good care of me."

Tighnari placed a reassuring hand on Collei's shoulder. "This is our guest. They've had a rough time but are safe now. Collei, can you help prepare some hot tea? It'll help them warm up."

Collei nodded eagerly. "Of course, Master." She hurried to the kitchen area, her movements quick and efficient.

As you sat there, enveloped in the warmth of the blanket and the kindness of your new companions, a sense of belonging began to take root. The journey ahead was still uncertain, but for the first time since you woke up in the forest, you felt a glimmer of hope.

Tighnari's house, with its mix of natural elements and scientific tools, seemed to reflect his dual nature as both a guardian of the forest and a seeker of knowledge. The walls were adorned with botanical drawings, and shelves were lined with jars of herbs and curious specimens.

"Tighnari," you began, feeling a need to understand more, "It must be incredible to live in a world where such beings as gods and elements exist."

"It is," Tighnari agreed. "But it's also a responsibility. Those who receive visions often feel a duty to use their powers for the greater good."

Before you could ask more, Collei returned with a steaming pot of tea and cups. She poured the tea with practiced ease, and the fragrant steam filled the room, adding to the cozy atmosphere.

"Here you go," she said, handing you a cup. "This should help warm you up."

You took the cup gratefully, feeling the warmth spread through your hands. "Thank you, Collei."

As you sipped the tea, its soothing warmth spreading through you, you realized that despite the mysteries surrounding your past, you had found a place where you could begin to seek answers. Gandharva Village, with its unique blend of nature and community, felt like a stepping stone on your journey of self-discovery.

Tighnari leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. "Rest for now. We can talk more in the morning. There’s much for you to learn about Teyvat, and perhaps we can uncover more about your past as we go."

You nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude and anticipation. "Thank you, Tighnari. And you too, Collei. I don't know what lies ahead, but I'm glad to have met you both."

With that, you settled into the warmth of the blanket, the fire crackling softly nearby, and the gentle murmur of the forest outside. The rain continued to fall, but within Tighnari's home, you felt safe and hopeful. The journey to uncover your true identity had begun in earnest, and with the support of your new friends, you felt ready to face whatever lay ahead.

As you drift into a deep, much-needed sleep, Tighnari and Collei moved to a corner of the room, their voices hushed but urgent. Tighnari’s sharp ears twitched slightly, always alert even in the safety of his home. He glanced over at the sleeping figure, then turned his attention back to Collei.

"Master, what happened out there? Who is this person?" Collei asked, her green eyes wide with curiosity and concern.

Tighnari sighed, running a hand through his dark green hair, his fennec ears flicking with agitation. "It's a long story, Collei. I found them wandering in the forest, disoriented and with no memory of who they are or how they got there. But there's more to it than just amnesia."

Collei tilted her head, her fox-like ears twitching in interest. "More? Like what?"

Tighnari leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. "The forest itself seemed to react to them. Flowers bloomed in their presence, and the trees seemed to bend to offer protection. It's as if the forest was… welcoming them."

Collei's eyes widened even further. "Welcoming them? But that's… I've never heard of such a thing happening."

"Neither have I," Tighnari admitted. "But that's not all. They don't smell like a normal human. In fact, they don't have any scent at all, which is highly unusual. Every living being has a scent, but they don't. It's like they exist outside the natural order of things."

Collei frowned, trying to process the information. "Do you think they could be… a god? Or some other non-human creature?"

Tighnari sighed again, his expression thoughtful. "It's possible. Their presence feels different, almost otherworldly. There's a calmness and a sense of belonging that I can't quite explain. It's like they are part of the forest in a way that goes beyond mere human understanding."

Collei hesitated, then spoke up. "I remember an old tale I heard as a child, a legend about the Creator. It was said that the Creator would one day return to Teyvat, bringing harmony and balance to the world. Could it be possible that…"

Tighnari's eyes widened slightly. "The Creator? It's a tale I've heard too, but always dismissed as myth. Yet, the signs… they can't be ignored."

Collei nodded slowly, her mind racing. "If they truly are the Creator, or even something close to that, it could explain why the forest reacted the way it did. The forest, the plants, even the animals – they all recognized them."

Tighnari looked back at the sleeping figure, his expression softening. "If that's true, then their presence here could have far-reaching implications. We need to keep them safe and help them recover their memories. Only then can we understand their true purpose and what it means for Teyvat."

Collei agreed, her determination matching Tighnari's. "We'll do everything we can to protect them and help them find out who they are. This could be the start of something incredible."

Tighnari smiled, careful not to touch her, knowing how much she disliked physical contact. "Thank you, Collei. Your support means a lot. For now, let's focus on keeping them safe and comfortable. We'll figure out the rest as we go."

They both turned their attention back to the sleeping figure, their minds filled with questions and possibilities. The journey ahead was uncertain, but with the bond they shared and the resolve they held, they felt ready to face whatever challenges lay in wait.

Tighnari then spoke again, a new idea forming in his mind. "Collei, there is someone who might be able to help us. The Dendro Archon, the God of Wisdom. She has knowledge beyond our understanding. If anyone can provide answers, it's her."

Collei's eyes lit up with hope. "The Dendro Archon? Yes, she would surely know what to do. We should take them to her."

Tighnari nodded. "It's settled then. Tomorrow, we'll prepare for the journey to meet the Dendro Archon. Let's hope she can shed some light on this mystery."

---

The sun rose gently over Gandharva Village, casting a warm glow over the intricate network of platforms and bridges. The village was already bustling with activity as Forest Rangers went about their duties, preparing for another day of safeguarding the forest.

Inside Tighnari's home the air was filled with the scent of fresh herbs and flowers. You stirred from your sleep, blinking slowly as you adjusted to the morning light streaming through the windows.

Tighnari and Collei were already up, speaking quietly near the door. They turned as the reader awoke, their expressions softening with concern.

"Good morning," Tighnari greeted with a warm smile. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit better," you reply, still feeling the lingering warmth of the blankets. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," Collei said, her voice gentle. "We're here to help you."

As they prepared for the day, you couldn't shake the feeling of being part of something much larger. The forest, the village, and the people around them all seemed to resonate with a sense of purpose and connection.

Tighnari's words from the previous night echoed in your mind. The journey to uncover your true identity was just beginning, and with the support of your new friends, they felt ready to face whatever lay ahead. The path forward was uncertain, but it was also filled with hope and the promise of discovery.

https://www.pinterest.de/pin/126311964540912532/

Thank you so much for reading! Fell free to give me feedback and ideas how to continue this!

P.S. I fixed the pov in the end!!

Mika

Taglist:

- @wutap - @saternsky - @vianitry - @fantasyhopperhea

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin x creator reader #sagau x reader #tighnari x reader #aranara #collei x reader

189 notes · View notes

devieuls · 16 days

Text

ˋ Haunted .✵

Qimir x Ex Jedi Fem Reader < SERIES >

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Sith Lord Qimir x Fem ex Jedi Reader.

(during the series)

SMUT: Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; fingering; Blood; Spit; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; betrayal; slut shaming; oral sex; dacryphilia; outdoorsex; jealousy BDSM. Dom Qimir ANGST: toxic relationship, self-harm, derealization, suffering, Requited / Unrequited love, prejudices, bullying and insults. There will be flashbacks in this series

Aged characters: Qimir 35 y.o / You 22 y.o.

Synopsis: In a twisted web of light and darkness, two opposites are facing each other, dancing on a thin thread called fate. What happens when light and darkness dance on a wire called destiny, two eternal opposites that inevitably attract each other and create something perfectly powerful and chaotic to unite the power of two in one? The answer emerges in a journey of tension and attraction, where yin and yang discover that their opposition is nothing but a reflection of a deep and unexpected connection. This is the story of how destruction is akin to peace, how the moon one day decided to save the sun, how darkness is not so dark and evil so bad. A journey towards change and desire, where opposing forces merge into a future that no one could have predicted.

(Following some events of the series)

Lenght: 4.9k

TW: THE SERIES WILL BE FULL OF DELICATE TOPICS!

⇠ Previous chapter ✵ Next Chapter ⇢

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

Chapter I: The Abyss of Temptation

(The shuttle landed silently on the verdant surface of the planet Khofar, a wild jewel among the worlds of the Outer Rim Territories. As the hatch opened, a wave of humidity enveloped the Jedi, carrying with it the intense scent of damp earth and the exotic fragrance of the lush vegetation. The forest stretched out before them like an endless sea of green, where the trees rose like ancient towers, their massive trunks covered in layers of gleaming moss. The thick, intertwined canopies above them created a natural roof, allowing only faint rays of light to filter through, speckling the ground with golden patches. Khofar was a living, wild planet, and they were only temporary visitors, intruders in an ancient and balanced ecosystem. Every rustle among the leaves, every distant call, was a warning. A premonition or prelude to what the day would bring.)

If only you had known in advance that your teammates would die one by one before your eyes as you returned from the hut where Jedi Master Kelnacca lived, you would have thought twice before agreeing to the mission. You had fought against the Sith who killed your friends, battling with anger and bitterness, in a grief too fresh to fully comprehend. In the end, the pain of your body hitting the hard ground was nothing compared to the searing agony in your side from a nearly fatal wound. Your vision began to blur, and you could only see footsteps approaching before everything faded to black.

You awoke slowly, as if emerging from a hibernation that had lasted for years. Your eyes opened with difficulty, greeted by a nearly suffocating gloom. The dim light of a few torches was the only source of illumination within what seemed to be a cave. The rocky walls, uneven and cold, seemed to loom over you. You felt weak, every movement was a struggle, and a dull pain throbbed in your side. You tried to sit up, but your injured side forced you back down, a hiss of pain escaping your lips. You brought a trembling hand to the wound and felt the rough texture of the bandages wrapped around the torn flesh. Despite the agony, the wound had apparently been cleaned and treated with care. Someone had taken the time to tend to it, to ensure it would heal, though it was still far from being fully recovered. You looked around, trying to piece together fragments of memory that crowded your mind. You remembered your friends' deaths, Sol screaming, your lightsaber changing color, and a battle. You recalled the fierce confrontation with the Sith, your fall, and the darkness that enveloped you. But beyond that, nothing. You had no idea how you had ended up in that cave, nor who had brought you there.

Your heart raced, panic beginning to seep into your thoughts. Were you a prisoner? And if so, who had shown such mercy to tend to your wounds? The most unsettling question was the most obvious: why hadn't the Sith eliminated you when he had the chance? A shadowy thought slithered into your mind, and the face of the Sith echoed in the depths of your being. The idea that he might have been the one to save you, to care for you, was as chilling as it was improbable. Yet, you couldn’t shake the possibility from your mind, no matter how absurd it seemed.

You dragged yourself out with great effort, and through the blinding light, you saw the silhouette of a man, barely identifiable. You followed him stealthily, still holding your side and trying to endure the pain from the wound. For a moment, you lost sight of him, only to find him again shortly after, immersed in a pool of water in what seemed to be a coastal area with black sand you couldn’t identify. Your eyes fell on the figure facing away from you, submerged in the water, his muscles relaxed, his raven hair wet and slicked back. To your eyes, the man seemed completely unaware of your presence, though he appeared to have a vigilant awareness of the surrounding area. You moved silently among the rocks and vegetation, observing your target until your gaze fell upon a pile of clothes near the shore, where the deactivated lightsaber lay. With swift and somewhat precise movements, you approached the lightsaber. Tension mounted inside you as you crouched to pick it up, aware that any sound could betray your presence. You grasped the metallic object and assumed an attack position as the man began to speak, still with his back turned while he calmly washed himself.

"how does it feel?" he said, turning towards you. You recognized him immediately. The mere sight of his face sparked rage within you. "Pleasant, don't you think?" His tone was a piercing screech to your ears. You gritted your teeth, not responding, remaining in your attack stance. "Your stance is good despite the wound on your side, but your elbows are a real mess. I had my doubts when we fought last time, and now I see why it was so easy to defeat you. Your elbows are too low; you should keep one higher, you know?" he continued, observing you. "…To block more quickly and strike with more precision." He took a brief pause. "Since you don’t know how to use the Force, you should learn to block better," he concluded, stepping out of the water, now only a few steps away from you.

"Don’t move," your stance changed, now aiming the off lightsaber directly at him. Your gaze was sharp and cold. "If you don’t want to join me, at least let me put my clothes on" he said. You took a slight step back, allowing him to exit the water. You swallowed, trying not to let your gaze fall on the naked, wet defined body of the man, keeping in your mind that he was your enemy. You began to ponder whether it was appropriate to attack him now. But it was neither Jedi-like to strike a defenseless man nor to act in such a dishonorable manner. "Surely, you’re wondering if it’s honorable to kill me like this," he began, his tone different from the one used in battle. You swallowed. Your gaze fell for a second on his chest, and you cursed yourself for the terrible idea. "In battle it’s justified, but days later isn’t it revenge?" he asked with a sarcastic tone, as if he already knew the answer. "And now you wonder if I can read your mind… and the answer is… no. Anger betrays your thoughts" he continued, dressing himself as if you weren’t pointing a weapon at him. His gaze seemed oddly gentle, more delicate, almost innocent. So much so that he almost didn’t seem like the same man who had killed seven Jedi just a few nights before.

"Why did you bring me here? Why didn’t you kill me?" you asked, watching him sternly, uncertain of what to do next. "Am I your prisoner?" "Prisoner? You’re the one with a weapon" he said with an overly calm look and an obvious tone in his voice, as he walked back towards the cave, passing by you without fear. You followed him, teeth clenched. You wanted revenge on this man, but what a miserable person you would be to strike him from behind while he was unarmed. "If you keep me here, Sol will come for you. He’s found me before, and he’s powerful with the Force." Your voice sounded threatening, though not as forceful as you’d hoped due to the stabbing pain in your side. The man turned and looked at you with a puzzled expression. "Do you think he’s powerful with the Force? It’s you who’s powerful with the Force, y/n. Someone should teach you," he said. You were stunned for a few seconds, as he knew your name. To you, he was a stranger, but you didn’t seem to be as unknown to him. The stranger walked back into the cave, and you followed him, confused. "In what way am I powerful with the Force? You should know it’s something to be practiced. If you don’t train it, it fades" you said, your voice still sharp as you scrutinized the man who seemed so at ease in your presence. You had long abandoned being a Jedi, retreating shortly after becoming officially part of the Order. If it hadn’t been for your sister leaving a trail of blood wherever she went, you would have stayed far away from that world. You had lost every Force ability, not having practiced it for many years. You vaguely remembered how to use a lightsaber, thanks to Sol, who had helped you recall the skills during the time you spent together, training with his young Padawan Jecki.

The stranger was seated next to what appeared to be a small campfire, while you kept your distance. He tasted the food he was cooking. You didn’t trust him; something about him made you suspicious, aside from the fact that he had decimated your team. "You know… The Jedi teach that there’s only one way to access the Force, and if you don’t do it their way, it fades. But there’s another way," he said gently, turning his gaze toward you. "Beneath the surface of consciousness, there are powerful emotions." "Anger. Fear. Loss…" he slowly mentioned the emotions you had learned to suppress, as you had been taught in the Order during your time as a Jedi Padawan. "…desire." The last emotion was spoken almost in a whisper as he took on a more serious and penetrating expression. You swallowed, observing him with disdain, though you subconsciously held your breath as he listed the emotions. "That’s the path to the dark side," the words came out acridly from your mouth.

The man’s expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly masked it with a mocking smile. "semantics… You Jedi are so closed-minded," he replied, turning back to the fire, stirring the stew he was cooking. "The light side isn’t the only way to access the Force. The dark side… amplifies emotions. It’s just another way to access the Force. A way… to freedom." His convincing tone almost seemed reasonable, though it was contrary to your way of thinking. "You killed my friends," your gaze grew even sharper and more bitter, as your hand still gripped the hilt of the deactivated lightsaber, seeking comfort in the familiar cold metal. The Sith’s words were like poison seeping into your mind, exploiting the insecurities you had always tried to suppress. "Friends? That’s what you call people who come to seek you only in moments of need and then ignore your existence?" His voice was laced with a mix of disdain and feigned compassion. Every word from this man was a blade sinking into your soul, touching raw nerves you had tried to ignore. You had been trained to combat fear, anger, desire—all emotions that, if left unchecked, could lead you down the dark path. But at that moment, you felt the internal storm growing, fueled by suffering and loss, a mourning.

"War isn’t pretty, y/n, sometimes…" he began, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as he stood up, beginning to walk toward you with determined steps, never breaking eye contact. "Sacrifices must be made for a greater good." He stopped just inches from you, his penetrating gaze studying you with a mix of cynicism and desire, as if challenging you to contradict him. Every fiber of his being radiated an irresistible force, a magnetism that seemed to envelop him like a shadow. He leaned slightly toward you, his warm breath brushing against your skin as his lips dangerously neared your ear. "Your friends," he whispered with a cold, almost contemptuous tone, "were just collateral damage." His words were like sharp knives—cutting and relentless—but the seductive tone with which he spoke betrayed an unsettling intimacy, as if he were confiding a dark secret that only you could understand.

The stranger leaned back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze. His dark eyes, deep as an abyss, stared at you with an intensity that seemed to penetrate directly into your soul. His face was close, too close, and his expression was serious, almost sorrowful, but there was no trace of remorse—only a dark understanding. "Why do you love people who can only go so far?" His voice dropped further, becoming a near-confidential whisper. "Who can’t go as deep as you can?" His gaze was intense, his eyes locked onto yours with an expression that seemed to reveal far more than his words had. There was a hidden desire, a need struggling to surface, but the man skillfully masked it, maintaining a subtle balance between cynicism and seduction.

You held your breath, feeling the weight of his words and his proximity. You knew that behind those words lay a darkness trying to corrupt you, but his allure was dangerously real. Your mind was conflicted, torn between repulsion at the Sith’s cynicism and the irresistible magnetism surrounding him. The man gave you a slight smile, a smile that never quite reached his eyes, as he pulled back just a few centimeters, leaving you teetering between temptation and inner struggle. "Maybe, y/n," he added in a mellifluous voice, "you’re destined for something more… something greater… something that I can show you." "I’m not my sister. I’m not so easily corrupted," you said, looking him straight in the eyes, trying to maintain control over yourself. Every fiber of your being struggled to suppress the tumultuous emotions the stranger had tried to awaken in you. Your heart pounded loudly, betraying you, but your face remained impassive, covered by a studied veil of disgust. With a slow, deliberate motion, you took a step back, putting distance between you, your gaze charged with superiority and defiance.

Qimir observed you with an impassive expression, but behind his dark eyes was growing interest, a sort of admiration for your resilience. To him, you were not like the other Jedi he had encountered, too weak or easily swayed. In you, he saw a potential acolyte, someone with an inner strength that could be nurtured and guided toward an even greater power. A subtle smile appeared on his lips, a nearly imperceptible curve that betrayed his pleasure at seeing you so determined. "You’re not like your sister, that’s true," he admitted with a tone that seemed both a compliment and a challenge. He took a step toward you, closing the space between you once more, but this time with an even more calculated calm, like a hunter who knows its prey. "But don’t mistake your determination for invulnerability," he continued, his voice soft and sharp as a blade. "The force you suppress within you, the force you’ve learned to stifle, is what could make you great—much greater than the Jedi could ever imagine. I see in you a potential that goes beyond the limitations of their dogma, and that is what frightens them." He stopped just a few steps from you, his gaze locked on yours, trying to pierce through the mask you had erected. "I’m not here to corrupt you," he whispered, his voice almost persuasive. "I’m here to offer you a choice, a path that the Jedi have always denied you. A road to a freedom you don’t yet know." You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you refused to show any weakness to him.

"I don’t need your freedom," you replied coldly, your voice steady despite the internal turmoil. "Your whispers don’t touch me. I know who I am and what I represent." "So sure of yourself" he murmured, with a tone that seemed to appreciate your determination. "But what do you truly represent, y/n? A Jedi struggling against her own nature, stifling the potential that could make her truly powerful? Oh… perhaps I should say, ex-Jedi?" he asked with ironic amusement, towering over your figure. You clenched your teeth, pointing the hilt of the deactivated lightsaber at his stomach.

He tilted his head slightly, amused, his gaze growing more penetrating as he sought to reach that part of you he knew existed—the part that thirsted for knowledge, power, something more. “You feel the Force, you perceive it in ways that even the Jedi cannot understand. And you know there is a greater, deeper power calling you. It is not betrayal to explore that possibility. It is… evolution.” His words, spoken with such conviction, seemed to echo in the cave, breaking through the barriers you had erected to protect yourself. You raised your lightsaber to meet the man's neck. “Do it… light it” he ordered, his tone of challenge making your blood boil. The Sith, on the other hand, seemed delighted by your anger, his sharp and contemptuous smile only fueling the tension. Qimir merely tilted his head slightly to the side, offering his neck completely to you, his penetrating gaze fixed on the lightsaber you pointed at him, waiting for the moment you would decide to ignite it.

“A Jedi… does not attack the unarmed" you said through gritted teeth, your voice a murmur of frustration and determination. Your mind was a tumult of emotions, but your will to remain true to your principles was steadfast. “Do you still think you’re a Jedi?” he asked, his voice low and enveloping, almost hypnotic. “Don’t you remember how your lightsaber changed color the last time? Do you still believe you must adhere to a code you’re questioning within yourself?” Those words hit like a punch to the stomach, evoking images you would have preferred to forget. The blade of your lightsaber, once glowing a pure blue, had trembled, taking on red hues like those of the man before you. You took a step back, your heart racing, desperately trying to put space between you and that voice which seemed to read into you with ruthless precision. But the man gave you no respite. His hand moved with surprising speed, gripping your arm in a gentle yet firm hold. His fingers closed around your wrist, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you from withdrawing the saber from his neck. The contrast between the contained strength of his touch and the relaxed calm of his face left you breathless.

His penetrating gaze was fixed on your eyes, a subtle yet relentless challenge. “You know yourself that after what’s happened you couldn’t return to the Jedi even if you wanted to,” he whispered, his tone charming and confident, as if he had already won this silent battle. “Sol has seen it, don’t believe that after succumbing to rage and revenge you can return to a position that no longer belongs to you.” You felt trapped, not so much by his hand holding you but by the words resonating inside you. His words seemed to challenge every certainty you had until that moment. Every fiber of your being wanted to reject him, but there was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you, that made you doubt, even if just for a moment. Qimir moved closer, his warm breath against your skin, each movement calculated with lethal precision. “It’s not a matter of principles, y/n,” he continued, his tone now almost seductive. “That pain, that anger… this is what you are.” Your breath grew irregular, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to maintain control. “Let me go.” you threatened, your voice a low growl, but you knew there was a shadow of hesitation you couldn’t hide.

“Sol saw it… the Jedi saw it” he continued, his tone now softer but laden with cruel truth. “And for that, they will throw you away, again.” His piercing gaze cut into you, as your eyes took on an expression of anger and fear at his words. You felt his words like a sharp blade piercing through your defenses, and your gaze hardened, but you couldn’t hide the flicker of fear in your eyes. The fear that, deep down, he might be right. The fear that your Order, those you would give your life to protect, might indeed see you as a threat, something to be eliminated. The Sith sensed that shift within you, and his gaze became even more penetrating, probing every corner of your mind. It was as if he could see every weakness, every hidden thought, and he used them with a terrifying skill. “You can’t hide from what you are, y/n. The dark side isn’t a weakness… it’s your strength. And you know it.” You gritted your teeth, disgust and anger mixing into an explosive blend that pushed you closer to the edge. He seemed to know exactly which buttons to press; every word, every look was a sharp blade striking at your raw nerves. The tension inside you grew, turning into a knot that threatened to snap. Until you could no longer hold it back, and it was in that moment that you ignited the lightsaber, the glowing blade just a breath away from his neck. “It won’t be like that,” you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper, desperately trying to stay calm, though your eyes betrayed the mask of confidence you wore. “I will not succumb to the dark side.”

The man remained still, his mocking smile slowly widening as his eyes stayed fixed on yours, as if he were looking through you, reading every hidden thought. He swallowed slowly, a gesture that seemed almost like an invitation, a further provocation. The blade of your saber illuminated his face, but there was no trace of fear in his eyes, only a cold calm. “It’s not something you have to give in to… it’s inside you,” he said with that velvety voice of his, each word a whisper insinuating doubt into your certainties. His words struck you like a blow to the heart, breaking that fragile barrier you were desperately trying to maintain. “Your potential is immense,” he continued, lowering his voice to a warm, almost intimate whisper. Your gaze grew sharper as the subtle poison in his words sought to seep into your consciousness. The lightsaber blade barely touched his skin without making contact, his calm expression only annoying you. It was as if the threat had no effect on him, as if he knew you would never have the courage to go through with it. Every movement he made was slow, deliberate, calculated to keep you on edge, playing with your emotions like a master puppeteer. Anger bubbled within you, a fire growing ever stronger, fueled by his words, his confident smile, the way he seemed to control everything. You couldn’t deny it; there was a part of you that wanted to give in, that wanted to let go of the anger, the pain that burned so intensely. And he knew it; you could feel it in his voice, see it in his eyes.

“I understand…” His voice was a seductive whisper, just above a breath, as his hand rose with studied slowness, approaching yours without ever touching it. His eyes, which had been filled with impenetrable confidence until now, took on a new light, something deeper, almost vulnerable. “I’ve lost everything, y/n…” His gaze now seemed sincere, almost pleading for some strange reason. “But when you lose everything,” he continued, his hand now resting on yours, which still gripped the cold lightsaber handle. The contact was surprisingly gentle, a light pressure, but enough to make you feel the warmth of his skin against yours. His grip was soft but firm, and the contrast between his words and the apparent gentleness of the gesture made you waver. “That’s when you’re truly free,” he concluded, his voice a whisper carrying an inescapable weight, an invitation to surrender, to let go of everything that still bound you to the light. His gaze locked onto your eyes, deep, almost pleading, but not for pity: for understanding, for sharing. It was as if he wanted you to see the world through his eyes, to understand that the dark side wasn’t a condemnation but a liberation. His words struck you forcefully, penetrating your defenses once again with lethal precision. It wasn’t just a mental game; there was something genuine in the pain that lingered in his voice, a shadow of loneliness that echoed your own torment. And in that moment, the Sith you had seen as an implacable enemy became a figure that seemed to understand your suffering, your anger.

“The anger you feel, the pain that consumes you… you don’t have to fight it,” he continued, his tone calm and inviting. The tension between you was thick, almost suffocating. You felt the dark side’s pull toward him, the promise of freedom shining like an irresistible temptation. But there was something more in that man, something human, making it harder to you to ignore. The sincerity in his gaze, his voice dropping to an almost intimate whisper, made you doubt your certainties. His hand, warm against yours, made you feel dangerously close to an abyss you weren’t sure you wanted to avoid. You remained still, analyzing his words in your mind. The lightsaber still tightly gripped in your hand, your teeth clenched as you swallowed before sighing, thinking about what you should do. You deactivated the lightsaber and stepped away from him, pressing the hilt of the now-deactivated saber against his chest. You wouldn’t be deceived by his seductive words. You knew who you were and what you fought for. But, inside, a small part couldn’t help but wonder: what if he was right?

“You don’t know me to tell me these things. And as I’ve said, I’m not corruptible like my sister,” You hissed, your voice charged with a tension the man couldn’t help but appreciate. He let his smile spread slowly across his face, watching with almost amused interest as you deactivated the lightsaber and then pressed the hilt against his chest. The determination in your eyes, the resolve in your gesture, fascinated him. It wasn’t the reaction he had expected, but there was something in you, an inner strength, a resilience that intrigued him deeply. He could see the internal struggle you were facing, the conflict between the Jedi code and the emotions he had deliberately stirred.

The Sith, with a slow and measured gesture, placed the hilt of the deactivated lightsaber on a nearby rock. The smile on his face shifted into a smirk of satisfaction. “Perhaps I know you better than you think,” he admitted, his voice soft and filled with an intensity that echoed in the silence of the cave, where only the crackling of the fire could be heard. “I see who you are… who you could be. Your strength, your will…” His steps continued to close the distance between you, and you took a step back, trying to maintain the space between you. He gently took your wrist and pulled you slightly towards him, towering over your smaller figure. He looked at you with what might have seemed like admiration or… desire. You held your breath, swallowing, paralyzed by what could be the gentlest yet most dangerous of predators. The man brought his face closer to yours, the distance between you reduced to mere centimeters, his breath mingling with yours, warm and slow. His touch was once again firm but never painful. His eyes, dark as the abyss, glowed with an intensity that slowly captivated you. You found yourself hanging on his lips, almost asking for permission to breathe regularly. “It is rare…” he concluded. You took a deep breath, and the tension between you was growing increasingly palpable. His tone was like sweet poison, flowing slowly through your veins, making you doubt once more everything you had always believed. His hand slowly moved from your wrist to your side, stopping just below your ribs, where the wound, though treated, still throbbed painfully. The contact, though light, made you flinch, a mix of pain and something else you couldn’t quite identify. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, the tension between you becoming almost unbearable.

“You’re still loyal to someone who didn’t think twice about abandoning you to the enemy on Khofar some nights ago…” You swallowed at his words, feeling the knot in your throat that blocked every word and the weight in your stomach. “Deep down, you’re still searching for a master, someone to guide you… That life, you’ve never truly felt it as your own; they never understood you,” he continued, his gaze fixed on your eyes as if he could see inside you, reading every thought, every hidden emotion. “But I can.” For a moment, you felt yourself falter at those words. The tension between you was palpable, and you could not take your eyes off what must be your enemy, although your mind tried to keep lucidity. Your breathing was slow and irregular, each breath an attempt to hold back an invisible and unknown force that seemed to want to overwhelm you. The knot in your throat was getting tighter, blocking the words you wanted to say. Your eyes were mesmerized. There was an incredible intensity in those foxy eyes, a mixture of fear and fascination that left your heart inexplicably throbbing and mind confused. You failed to swallow trying to make words come out to counter his claims

“You are like me…” he whispered a short distance from your lips.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes :

Well, yes, the sexy hot af villain who will be the protagonist of the new series is Him. Qimir, from The Acolyte. If you don’t know him, go and watch that series because Manny Jacinto put all his effort to seduce us towards the dark side. This is just the beginning, still do not know how many chapters will have but I hope not many, I would like to write about more topics for him.

if you haven’t seen the series there will be some spoilers, so please watch the series first

-Mel

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

119 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 1 year

Text

SWEET LIKE SUGAR | 02

summary; after an awkward breakfast and some clarification, you and azriel take the next step in your agreement.

word count; 8091

notes; y'all I hope you love this, it's pretty much just 8,000 words of pure fluff, it's adorable. I love this series so much.

When the sunlight first hit your eyes, you groaned, twisting your face to bury deeper into the pillow. It wasn’t usually the direction that sunlight came in through your dingy window, warmth cascading across the wrong side of your face, and you dragged your hand up to cover it.

Some day, you’d be able to afford curtains to properly block it out. That little indulgence just surged up a few places on your mental list. Before your hands reached your face, however, cool darkness blocked it out, your hand skimming across the mattress lazily, and one eye cracking open.

Before you, like a swirling mass of darkness, was a tendril of shadow. Twisting slowly in the morning light, dancing between golden sun-rays and blocking it from your field of you. Your body jerked, a slight shriek falling from your lips as you scrambled back across the bed, bracing yourself to fall over the edge and hit the floor.

You never did. The plush mattress seemed to stretch on and on, your body aching and protesting the sudden movements from where you’d still been on the cusp of sleep.

The shadow looked almost amused, dancing along the streams of light and closer to you, meeting the mattress and slithering its way across the comforter towards you. At the first cold brush of it across your knuckles, the fog cleared, and your memories all seemed to come flooding back. It was some kind of blur, sweet smiles and towering wings and the taste of berries and warm spices like a memory across your tastebuds.

Hauling your legs up to your chest, you bent forward, until your forehead could press to your knees, and took several deep, shuddering breaths. Your toes curled in the bedding, still warm, the smell of mist and fresh earth lingering around the room, like the smell of the air after it rained, calming and soothing and cool. When you finally lifted your head again, you could take it all in.

There, still sitting atop the chest of drawers was your dress, folded neatly just as you’d left it. The tray of tea and cookies had been cleared from the stool at the end of the bed, but the plush cushioning still held a slight imprint of where it had sat all night.

The shadow was back, splitting into two and whirling around each side of your face, the touch of them light like a ghost, smoothing over your skin like a feather, and your lips twitched a little at the edges.

“You scared me, y’know.” The spiral they made around your fingers when you lifted a hand was like a silent snicker, and you watched them form ever-changing patterns across the surface of your skin, playful and sweet. “I’m not used to waking up and finding the shadows moving.”

The windows were shut, no gust filtered through the room, but the shadows in the room all seemed to sway once, like a breeze through curtains, shimmying back into place, and a gasp held in your throat.

“Am I supposed to leave now?” Your heart clenched a little at the thought, and though Azriel was nowhere to be seen now, you knew he must be somewhere, he wouldn't have just left you here in his bed. The shadows banded around your wrist, the darkness in the room seeming to pulse for a moment, and your brow inched up. “No? Am I supposed to stay?”

The flicker of shadows seemed like a far more empathetic yes, and your smile stretched more.

“Well, then, where is your master?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d have sworn the shadows bristled at that, a sense deep within you telling you that they’d give a disgruntled huff if capable, and your chuckle blew them like powder on the wind. Detangling from our arm, they blew across the air, before reforming from mist and hovering in a swirling column near the bedroom door.

The carpet was plush underneath your toes as you stood, stretching your arms high above your head, feeling your joints ease happily into the day after sleep on such a comfortable mattress, nothing like your own. One step after another, you seemed to inch silently across the house, no creaking or cracked floorboards, and the door clicked softly out of place as you twisted the knob open.

The shadow moved, darting away from you like a flash of black, and you glanced around the corridor, tracking each direction. Nothing seemed to give away where you should go, the maze of corridors and doorways looming along each direction was dizzying, and you wished you’d paid at least a little attention last night when Azriel had guided you through the house, instead of staring at his back muscles and blushing. That same blush played on your cheeks now as you thought about it.

Hovering at the end of the hall to your right was the shadow, bobbing almost impatiently in the air, it's twirling like a ballerina’s ribbon increasing in speed as it hurried you along, and your footsteps were rushed as you chased after it before it disappeared again. By the time you reached the end of the hall, though, it was gone, and you peered around the corner just to be met with more halls.

Hovering by an open-arch doorway, your guide traced the patterns on the wood, playing in each dip and rivulet, and the rest of the shadows along the hall fluttered towards it, encouraging you to keep going. As you neared, the smell of bacon hit your nose, warm and salty and enough to make your stomach grumble, and you licked across dry lips at the thought of it. That same shadow darted down, smacking across your forehead lightly and bouncing off, spinning through the air toward a set of stairs at the end of this room.

You followed them down, down, down, until the carpet gave way to cold wooden floorboards, and more shadows seemed to slither along the bottom floor of the house, like lazy puddles that barely dared to shift or glance up as you passed by.

The first few you tried to avoid, hopping around and past them, before it was impossible, and you were stumbling through clouds of darkness that merely shifted around your ankles, reforming on the other side, entirely unaffected by your presence.

At last, you found the kitchen, a room you knew, following the shadow, and the faint humming of a deep voice, accompanied by the popping of oil in a pan. Standing before the stove, miles of tan skin and dark leathery wings on display, Azriel stood before the stove, shirtless as he cooked, and leaving the few pale scars across his back exposed to you to observe. They were nothing like the ones on his hands, the uncontrolled and swirling flesh he’d been branded with. These were precise and clean, nicks from blades and arrows, even a few slightly puckered that seemed to mark the lashings of a whip, almost faded into the depth of golden skin now.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?” A deep voice uttered, even more so than it had been the night before, and you felt the slight tremble of your legs with the rasp of it. Throaty and thick, his morning voice still hadn't cleared, and you wondered once again how this man could possibly be single, could need to resort to making a deal with you; the absurd deal he likely regretted once the sun had risen.

“Good morning.” You mumbled, watching as he turned, a wide smile on his face as he put out the flame on the stove, the sizzling of the bacon slowing without heat. When he moved, you could see the contents of the pan then, your mouth watering. Not just bacon, but sausages too, and eggs. He stepped toward you, revealing more of the counter, a plate of toast and butter, ready to go.

“You hungry?” He teased, shifting to grab for the kettle, and pouring some tea into an empty mug, before adding a dollop of honey into it. Making his way over to you, you could only nod, watching all the stacked, towering muscle of him closing in on you, until your back was pressed to the doorframe, head tipped back to look up at him. The teasing grin faded to a smile as he pressed the warm porcelain into your hands. “I cooked for you.”

“Very kind of you.” Your whisper was shared in the space between you both, and he raised a hand to tuck some stray hair behind your ears, before stepping back. His eyes flickered across every inch of your face, observing, analysing, and you hoped what he saw was what he wanted.

“You feelin’ okay? How’d you sleep?” The words were thrown over his shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen island, tugging out a stool and tapping it, a silent order to take a seat. Your feet were moving before your brain had even caught up, sinking down onto the tall stool and bracing your elbows on the counter, still clutching the mug.

“I slept better than I have in a long time. Maybe ever. You have a very comfortable mattress.” Words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them, words that made you feel like an idiot, a fool— until he laughed, a soft chuckle under his breath, eyes sparkling as he turned to face you.

He passed over a plate, piled high with more food than you could possibly eat, before his own followed to the seat opposite you, and he sunk onto it. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Cutting into the meat on your plate, you could only offer a smile in response, choking back your embarrassment to cater to the hunger growling within you, and focus on your food.

Several moments passed in silence, nothing but the loud ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall, the scraping of cutlery on the plates, and the occasional rustle to break the tension. Eventually, it was all too much.

“We should probably talk about… it.”

“By ‘it’, do you mean our deal?” Azriel grinned, smirking a little as he popped another forkful of toast and egg into his mouth, chewing and staring at you, like you were supposed to start this conversation. Putting down your knife and fork, you crossed your arms over the marble countertop in front of you, settling the nerves quelling in your stomach that was almost making you nauseous.

“Look, Azriel. I really appreciate everything. Seriously, I can’t tell you how much it all means to me. You’ve been like some kind of guardian angel, sent to me when I needed you most, before I forced myself to do something I’d never be able to forgive myself for.” The smile slipped from his lips slowly, a more serious look taking over his face, and you rolled back your shoulders, willing yourself to be strong, and taking a deep breath. “However, I’m not the sort of person to take advantage of you, of any of it. So, I’m giving you an out. I know how bargains work in this court now, so surely I can give you a way to undo it.”

He stared for a second, chewing his mouthful slowly, and his gaze upon you seemed to narrow as he swallowed. Then, he took a sip of his tea, still staring at you across the rim of his mug, and your whole body felt electrified. Reaching up, you rubbed slowly across the back of your neck, feeling nothing of the mark that had formed there last night, and making a mental note to look for it later. “I don’t accept.”

“What?”

“I do not accept your out. I don’t want it.”

“You— You have to!” You burst, and he only shrugged, cutting off another piece of toast and dragging it across the juices on the plate, before stuffing it into his mouth.

“Well, I’m not.” He spoke around his food, and you stared at him helplessly. “Now, eat up. I know you’re hungry, and I can make more if you still want something else after.”

“Azriel,” You started, and he stared pointedly at your food, like this conversation wasn’t going any further until he saw you eat. You’d barely started your meal, and he was halfway through his. With a grunt, you cut off a large chunk of sausage and bacon, shoving it into your mouth less than gracefully, and wiping at the droplet of grease that was making its way down your chin. He only grinned at you.

“I’m not accepting your out, because I don’t regret making that deal. Not even a little bit. I will give you an out of our deal, but only after you let me talk. Will you?” You were still chewing, slightly regretting your passive-aggressive portion, because you could only nod in response. “I don’t regret our deal, because when I woke up this morning, I was happier than I have been in a long, long time. That’s because of you. Do you know what I woke up to this morning?”

You could still only shake your head, wincing as you tried to choke down the mouthful with at least a little decorum.

“I woke up to the sound of your heartbeat. You were lying in my bed, one hand still around me, and my head was on your chest. I lay there for a good fifteen minutes just listening, and feeling, and loving it. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been alone for?” A shot of pain sliced through your chest, aiming straight for your heart and hitting its mark, your gaze softening as you looked at him. “I have not woken up in somebody’s arms like that before. I’ve— nobody ever stays the night. I don’t let them, and they don’t want to. They take what they want, and they go. By the morning, it’s cold and empty all over again. This time, I fell asleep in your arms, and I woke up to you.”

“Az…” Your voice was hoarse, and you ran a hand down the side of your face, stopping to rest trembling fingers over your lips gently, trying to process.

“I’ve never slept so well either. But, it’s not just about that. Do you have any idea how nice this is? To cook for someone, and get to talk, and know someone else is here? I want this. I want it all.”

“But it would be so unfair to you.” Your words shook, and you reached out, taking one of his hands gently in your own, and smoothing your thumbs across the marred flesh, staring at the movements to avoid the weight of his gaze. “You’d be letting me live in your house, providing everything for me, you’d be changing my life, and—”

“And you’d be changing mine too. You know this.”

“But I can’t give you enough! I can’t make it even.” Sadness welled in your throat, a lump that made it hard to breathe. The selfish part of your mind was beating you for turning down everything you needed as it was handed to you on a silver platter, because your heart was in control right now.

“You don’t mind my hands?” He said after a few moments of silence, and your motions stilled, eyes snapping up to meet his own.

“What?”

“My hands. You don’t mind them?” His fingers flexed in your own, and you squeezed a little tighter.

“Of course not!”

“And what about my wings? My shadows. Do they scare you?” He pressed, and a deep sense of longing, to comfort him, to hold him, rushed through your veins like a drug taking hold.

“Your wings are beautiful, Az. Every part of you is beautiful. From your golden heart to your pretty golden eyes.” His cheeks flushed with a little colour, and you smiled despite yourself, loving that you could dot hat to him. To the infamous and terrifying spymaster of the Night Court. “Your shadows are adorable and playful, and I like them very much.”

“Do I scare you?” His voice was a whisper now, strained like he didn’t want to ask at all but just had to know the answer.

“No.” You replied, just as small and delicate.

“Then why can’t you see, that it has to be you? There’s something special about you. I don’t want anyone else. If you don’t want this deal, then I will let you go, without question or pressure. But I don’t want anyone else, I won’t offer it to another.” He held your hand properly now, lacing his fingers with your own and holding tight. “You have no idea how much you’d be giving me by being here, how much I need you already. By staying, you’d be giving me everything, I’d be the one unable to ever repay you. I want it to be you, I want you here with me. Please, stay.”

You worried your lower lip, your heart beating so hard it almost hurt, and your mind warred with the organ in your chest. You wanted to, you wanted so badly to stay here and be with him. It was surreal and wild and nothing like anybody had ever prepared you for. It was confusing, and different, and so strange. But despite every concern, it felt so right, like somehow, you’d stumbled to exactly where you were supposed to be, with whom you were supposed to be.

“I have so much… so much to give, and nobody to give it to. Let it be you, please.”

“I think I would like to stay too.” You finally whispered, a shot of adrenaline surging through you as the words slipped free. Happiness followed, an overwhelming burst of it at the smile that Azriel gave you, dropping his forehead to your clasped hands.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, I have the easy part here.” You chuckled, taking your hands back to pick up your knife and fork when he finally freed them for you, still beaming as you as he resumed his own breakfast.

“Not true. All I do is let you move into my house, and live with me. It’s no great struggle. You have to…” He trailed off, shrugging a little, and your face flushed with heat, much like his own.

“I hardly think you’ll be a difficult man to love, Azriel.” Your words were whispered, hanging in the air for only a second between you both as he stared, before you cleared your throat, shattering the moment. “What do I do? What would you like? We should probably talk about that.”

He was silent for a few minutes, contemplating your question, and you resumed your eating, trying to get the spinning whirlwind of your thoughts back under control. You’d seen less chaotic sandstorms in Dawn than this felt.

As you finished your plate, somehow managing to finish off all the food that was there, a proud look passed across Azriel’s face as he watched, pleased with himself, it was clear.

“We do… whatever you want. I’ll follow your guidance, you tell me where your line is. If all you want is to be roommates, then that’s what we will be. I want everything, and anything you want to give.” He finished his food, stacking your plates together with a satisfied nod. “You make the rules, you set the boundaries. Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“Should we make another bargain of it?” You pondered aloud, reaching for your lukewarm tea, and your companion was full of simple amusement.

“Don’t ever make a bargain of something where the terms could change, or you’ll never be able to get rid of your promise mark. If I teach you only one thing about the Night Court, I will teach you about deals and promises.” Your hand flew to the back of your neck again, eyes widening.

“They can go?”

“Of course, once a promise is fulfilled, they disappear.”

Your gaze flickered down to his chest, across swatches of strong and taut muscle that was decorated with ink. “You’ve got all those promises currently?”

He sat back, arms stretching a little, and looked down at himself. “Some of them. This one,” He traced his fingers across a splotch of intricate ink just to the right of his heart. “is a promise to my brothers. We all made a promise, to be there for one another no matter what, always. It hasn’t been always, and so the mark remains.”

It made sense, and you looked for more, picking out a blooming pattern across his left shoulder. “What about that one?”

“That is a mark gained by becoming a warrior in the camps. Illyrians wear these tattoos like medals of honour, the more tattoos, the more honour you have. You see how they look ever so slightly different to the promise brands?” He beckoned your clothes, and you rounded the island to observe them with more detail. A shimmer of starlight passed through the promise marks, hardly visible to the naked eye unless you really looked for it. The Illyrian swirls, however, were ink-black and ominous.

“Will you tell me about the rest someday?”

“Happily.” He whispered, muscles jumping under his skin a little as you raised a hand, not daring to touch him but tracing the air over his skin, looking at the beautiful designs that covered so much of his shoulders, arms and chest. “There’s a lot, though.”

“We have time.” You offered, and he swallowed thickly, only nodding a quiet response.

“Yes, we do.” Quiet hung between you both again, dragging on, until you finally stepped away from the magnetic pull of his space, putting a healthy amount of distance between you both. Finally, you could meet his eye again, and finally, you could take a lung-filling breath. “We should go to your apartment, and get your things.”

“I can do that.” You waved a hand, and he scoffed, slipping from his stool to deposit the used dishes into the sink to be tended to later. You made a mental note to make sure you got to them before he did, it’s the least you could do after he cooked.

“Let you go back there alone, are you crazy? Not a chance.”

“I’ve been living there for weeks just fine.”

“Don’t remind me.” He grumbled, wiping his palms across the front of his sleep pants, and shaking out his wings. “Wait here, I’ll go get dressed. You can go in that.”

His words were final, and he disappeared through the kitchen archway into the mass of shadows looking far less sleepily now. You stood no chance of following him through the house without getting entirely lost, and so you only huffed, glancing down at yourself. It would do, you supposed. It wasn’t exactly a classy part of town anyway, and your dress was far worse.

You contemplated putting your heels back on, having just about found your way to the doorway once again, taking the jacket he’d loaned you last night and shrugging it on, heels in hand as he came back. Just the look of them made your feet ache already, and you decided against it, barefoot it would have to be, even if the thought made you cringe.

When Azriel reappeared, it was in black skinny jeans that did wonders for his thighs, and a hoodie just as dark to match. He’d tamed the messy bed hair he’d been sporting, and donned a glowing blue siphon across the back of each hand.

He looked so normal.

“How does that work?”

“How does what work?” He asked, dropping down to begin doing up the laces on his boots, and you felt under-dressed and embarrassed, feelings you were rapidly becoming accustomed to.

“Your hoodie and your wings.” He raised a brow, straightening up as he finished tying his laces.

“They have slots of my wings that fasten underneath, just like this t-shirt and jacket.” Sliding his hand around your back, you gasped as he slipped his hands through the gaps, calloused fingertips brushing the bare skin of your back for just a second.

“I get that, I meant, do you have to get them custom made, or is there… y’know, a store. Wings R’ Us.”

He paused, staring at you in pure shock, before bursting out with laughter, and his hand tightened a little on your back, tugging you a fraction of an inch closer to him before he slipped his hand free.

“What? It’s a valid question!” You mused, but your laughter mixed with his after only a few seconds, his hand retreating to hold your arm instead. You were still laughing as shadows flocked around you, darkness consuming you both, before you were re-emerging on the street outside of your apartment building only a few seconds later.

It was even worse in the daylight, and your laughter fizzled out as you looked up at it. Broken windows, glass covering the sidewalk, dead grass and mysterious puddles all over the pathway. The door was busted in, some windows border up entirely, graffiti and gang signs and burned patches of grass. One patch still had embers flickering. Running down the steps in a disgusting stream was a fresh upchuck of vomit, the tang of it lingering in the air, threatening to turn your stomach.

“You should stay out here. I won’t be long.”

“What? I can come up with you.” He took a step towards you, and your hand pressed to his chest, fingers spreading, and your head shook softly.

“It’s fine, you just wait here.” You didn’t want him to see your apartment, the broken window you’d tried to cover yourself that let in the cold, the mould on the walls, the broken furniture and door that didn’t look properly. You weren’t sure you’d survive that humiliation, having seen his house now. Your new residence, you supposed. There was no need for him to see this.

He didn’t look too happy, gaze moving to the building when voices trickled out from inside, unpleasant curses reaching both of you through the broken windows. “Fine. But, be quick. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“I know you will.” That seemed to satisfy him a little at least, and you didn’t look back at him, not as you weaved up the stairs, being careful to avoid all substances in your bare feet, and slipped through the broken entry.

The stairs were cracked and splintering as you made your way up, you wouldn't miss them even slightly, and as the shock of it all settled into acceptance, a secret smile just for yourself formed. It still felt somewhat selfish to be having what Azriel offered you, you didn’t know what you’d done to deserve it, but it didn’t stop the relief, the overwhelming flood of warmth that filled you, knowing that soon enough, you’d be out of this building for good.

As you slipped through the unlocked door of your squalid apartment, you hoped to never see it again once you left.

Dragging out the solitary trunk you’d been able to travel with from under the bed, you hauled it up onto the squeaky, stained mattress. Undoing the latch, you flicked it open, dust and dirt forming in the air as you swept your hand through to clear it. Below your feet, shouting started, voices beginning to raise from a couple below who seemed to do nothing but fight through all day and night, and you sighed. You certainly would not miss them.

Slipping off Azriel’s jacket and laying it across the box, the first thing you did was find some socks, and a real pair of shoes. Finally, with them laced up and secure across your feet, you felt a little more secure with every footstep you took, no longer dodging splintered wood or hurtful shards.

After brushing your hair and washing your face, you were finally beginning to feel more like yourself again, a small back of rapidly dwindling cosmetics sitting on your broken bed. Below you once again, the fighting got even louder, before something heavy crashed, and the impact of it reverberated up the walls and shook the floorboards under your feet. You paused, the sprinkling of crumbling drywall falling to the floor as the cracks in your walls expanded.

Darkness flashed across the room, exploding out to all corners so quickly you almost missed them. Shadows darted to observe as Azriel spun in place, calculating gaze taking in everything, a dagger in one hand, shoulders squared and braced for a fight. When he deemed the space clear of immediate threat, he turned to you, shocked and shy, mortification creeping in until the edges of your vision was blurry.

“I heard a crash, and I panicked. What the Hell was— are you okay?” He was on guard again, stalking across the room to loop an arm around your waist, crushing you to his chest, and you gasped a shaky breath.

“I told you to wait outside!”

“I know, but I was worried!” A tear threatened to break loose from your eye as your body heated from head to toe, humiliation making itself known. “Let me help you pack. The sooner we get you out of here, into a place with a door that actually locks, the sooner you’ll be safe, and I’ll feel much better.”

The words echoed across the front of your mind, and you stepped away from him, emotions overwhelming as he looked at you in confusion. “How did you know about the door not locking? Did you send one of your shadows to spy on me?”

“No! Of course not.” His shoulders slumped a little, and you almost felt guilty for the accusation, his shadows coiling tighter around his body now. “They just told me when we got here, and I think some of them came with you. They kinda’ have a mind of their own sometimes. You asked me to wait, and I respected that, but I thought you might be in danger. This place is…”

Your chest felt hollow, fiery emotions pulling back and leaving you utterly drained, and you looked away from him to wipe at your cheeks and blink back tears. “This place is all I could afford. It’s not much, but it was good to me, for what I needed. I know it’s not great, I wish I’d had a chance to…” You waved a hand around the awful space, a wet and self-deprecating laugh leaving you, “I don’t know. I didn’t want you to see this—”

“I grew up in a dungeon.”

“You what?” The words best out of you on a shocked breath, your upset was temporarily forgotten as you looked up to him, and he grimaced at himself just slightly. Tucking his knife back away safely behind him, he scratched at the back of his head. “I didn’t… that wasn’t the best way to say that. I just wanted you to know I wasn’t judging you. I grew up in a dungeon, literally. The dark and the cold were my only friends. I would have gone crazy for a place like this as a kid, it would have been a luxury. And don’t even get me started on the trainee dorms and cabins at the camps. I don’t think I knew what it was to not live with illness from the damp or cold until Rhys’ mother took me in. I had my first ever hot bath with Cassian on one side of me and Rhys on the other.”

He reached out, taking your hand much like you had done not so long ago at breakfast, and running his thumb reassuringly over your knuckles. It took several deep, steadying breaths before you were back in control of your emotions. “I hope you don’t still bathe like that.”

“Only on special occasions.” He beamed, lifting his other hand to smooth his thumb over your cheek, before letting the both drop back to his sides. “Let me help you pack?”

“Okay.” You headed back to the bedroom, the room that undoubtedly had most of the items in, and he followed. You’d hardly brought anything with you when you travelled, moving fast and light, hoping you’d escape your meaningless life in Dawn only to end up worse here, until last night. “There’s not much to pack…”

“Then we’ll be home in no time.” Home. The word sparked through you like the ember that lit a fire, your smile beyond your control as you nodded. Azriel moved his jacket out of the way of the box, throwing it onto the dirty bedsheets, and rubbing his hands together. “I assume you’re not bringing everything.”

“Definitely not.” You shook your head, staring at the bed you’d been sleeping in, your skin crawling a little. His shoulders sagged with relief.

“Good, I have guest rooms with all the basics, you can pick any to make your own.” Once again emotions welled within you as you stared at Azriel, who had his hands resting on his hips, glancing around the room, a blue glow cast over it all now. You watched him move, taking in the space, moving towards the wardrobe on the far side of the room and swinging it open.

You were content just watching him, truly believing he wasn’t judging you now, your heart thumping in your chest as for the first time in your life, you felt supported.

He pulled back from within the wardrobe, clearing his throat and letting an item dangle from his fingers. Your jaw dropped open, everything in your head clearing out as he stared at you with wide eyes. Hanging by lacy straps was one of the items you’d bought in preparation for your new job, a garment that was nothing more than netting and threads, and barely enough to cover you from nipple to thighs. “Uh, how exactly do you put this on?”

You flew across the room, faster than you’d ever moved before, snatching it from him with wide eyes and scrunching it between your hands. There was so little fabric to it that it almost disappeared between your palms as you did so. You turned, shoving it into the corner of your case where you hoped he couldn't see it anymore, practically feeling his breathy laugh wash over you as your nerves fired on ends.

“No?” You turned back to him, a strangled sound leaving your lips as he lifted out some red mesh, waving the bodice in the air like a flag. “What about this one?”

“Stop!” You coughed, taking it and throwing it over your shoulder, not caring where it went, as mischief shone in his eyes. He didn’t look away from you as he reached in again, clearly enjoying being able to get this reaction, but you weren’t sure you could handle any more. Snatching his hands up into your own, you clutched his much larger ones tightly, pulling them to your chest and scowling up at his gleeful expression. “Stop pulling out… those items!”

“Those items are all that’s in there!”

You could only groan, and he flexed his hands in your tight grip, his knuckles brushing your collarbone lightly, and you gasped, releasing him immediately, unsure your blush could get any worse as his hands fell away from your chest. You sank to sit on the edge of the bed, covering your face in your hands, muffling another distressed groan.

Azriel took a knee before you, his fingers firmly prying your hands from your face. “Where are your real clothes?”

“In the drawers.” You sighed, waving to the rickety dresser against the far wall, and he nodded. Rising, he opened the top drawer, scooping out your folded clothes carefully and laying them in the trunk on your bed. He returned, opening another drawer, and another. “What are you doing?”

“Where are the rest?”

“That’s it.” You sighed, his brows raising high as you stood, finally retrieving the red corset from the floor and folding it neatly, before placing that inside too.

“That’s it?” He echoed, disbelief in his voice, and you only shrugged, pulling the final few items free from the wardrobe. A few more clothes, two more pairs of heels, and a single old coat you’d managed to buy here for a few coppers at a second-hand store.

“I didn’t have much to start with, I had to travel light, only what I could carry. I bought a few sets of clothes, some books, and my savings.” He retrieved said pile of books, holding them carefully and arranging them amongst the clothes, making sure not to look at the items from the wardrobe you’d carefully laid inside. “I was naïve. I thought I’d get her, to the Court of Dreams, and all my dreams would come true. I thought I’d find a job, buy more clothes, and live happily ever after. I was an idiot.”

“Hey,” He muttered, lips pursing, hand resting over your own. “You’re not an idiot. You’re optimistic, and hopeful, and that’s how it should have been. That’s the reputation this place has, it’s not your fault. You’re supposed to come here to find better, I’m sorry you didn’t.”

He spoke with such conviction on behalf of his court you almost felt like you had personally offended him, until he offered you a small smile.

“After paying the rent for this crappy place and being unable to find any other job, I invested what little of my savings I had left into those stupid clothes.” You rubbed your forehead, feeling a headache coming on if you didn’t leave the stress of this place behind soon. “Luckily, before I ran out of money, I bought some ridiculous little baskets and a throw blanket when I first arrived, to cheer myself up. Stupid decision, really, but they were colourful, and they brightened this place up a little, and made me happy to come back to.”

You wouldn't call this place home, it had never been, and Azriel left to the rest of the cramped space, wings tucked tight. You sealed up the box again, brushing your hands across the top of it now that it held everything you owned, and lifted it to the floor. It was barely any heavier than when you’d first arrived.

He returned, clutching your two baskets in hand, and he throw-rug rolled up neatly and placed inside of one. They made you smile, the first purchases you’d made upon getting here that were purely for indulgence. “They’re kinda’ tacky, I know, but—”

“I love them.” Azriel left no room for argument on it, his tone final, and you pressed your lips together to hide the size of the grin you wanted to offer. “Is this truly everything?”

“Everything I want to bring.”

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here.” He jerked his chin, motioning you forward, his arms full but you freed a hand to settle on his arm, and darkness wrapped around you both again to move you through the shadows.

Back to safety and comfort, it was an effort to step away from Azriel’s side, even when you were within the walls of his home once again. Your home now, too.

Putting down the baskets and the blanket, Azriel took the trunk from your hands, motioning to the stairs with his free one. “Let’s get you settled in, huh? Before you decide to back out on me again.”

“Oh, shut it.” Your scowl only made him laugh, following you up the stairs towards the upper level of the house. He took over, guiding you down corridors you vaguely recognised from this morning, and you knew that you’d either have to ask him for a tour or do some serious exploring before you knew this place properly, but you’d have plenty of time for that.

Azriel had paused before a smaller door, solid wood frame and a panelled white door, closed currently. He tapped his knuckles on the frame, before twisting the knob and letting the door swing open. Inside was spacious, natural light flooded in from all corners, and if you’d thought the wide halls and floor-to-ceiling windows were grand, this was something else. Decorated much like the rest of the house, with simple tones of cream and beige, this room was one of the most beautiful.

A bed the same size as Azriel’s sat against the far wall, accessible from both sides with no cramping, and delicate gauze curtains fluttered in the breeze. Through one archway was a whole walk-in closet, with endless empty racks and drawers for you to fill, a whole wall designed for shoes. Through the other cracked door, you could see tiles and a tub, an ensuite bathroom for your personal usage, just like Azriel’s room.

There was a desk, a wall of bookshelves with a few trinkets and half-burned candles on, and a small armchair sitting just beneath them.

“This is your guest room?” You sputtered, and Azriel only leaned on the doorway as you stepped inside, taking it all in, from the paintings hung on the wall to the ornate faelights.

“Sometimes Mor stays over, she prefers this room. Cassian prefers the other guest room, he says it has a better view of the mountains.”

“Mor?” You echoed, tracing your fingers over the silky bedsheets and biting back a smile, that same feeling that none of this could be real coming rushing back, with force.

“Morrigan.” The name flashed through you from his stories last night, and your back straightened a little.

“She won’t mind if I use this room, though?”

“Mor hardly stays over, and she never stays the same time as Cassian. She can use the other guest room, you seem to like this one.” His tone got lighter toward the end, and you couldn’t agree more, barely containing your expression of joy.

“I do like this room.” You let go with a dreamy sigh, and Azriel placed your case just inside the door, sinking into the soft carpet. Your gaze moved back to him, from the flicker of a smile on his lips, to the spark in his eyes, to the casual slump of his wings behind himself. Shadows were slipping in around him, exploring this room too and dancing around your legs. Striding back to him, you clasped both of his hands in your own, searching his eyes once more, just to be sure. “Are you certain about this, Azriel?”

“There are very few things I ever say I am absolutely certain of, I am not a man of exaggerations or hyperbole. I value statistics, and realism, and honesty.” Azriel squeezed your hands when your throat bobbed, “But I can say with total confidence that this, that you, are one thing I am sure of.”

“Thank you, Azriel.”

He squeezed once more, before letting go, and standing back from you. “Unpack your things, and then meet me downstairs when you’re done.”

The door clicked shut behind him when he went, leaving you alone for a while to admire your new bedroom. It was bigger than your whole apartment had been, luxurious and ornate and beautiful.

It didn’t take you long to unpack your things, putting each different item in a different drawer one for shirts, one for pants, one for pyjamas. You hung your coat up on a stray hanger, and placed your few pairs of shoes into the first of the many cubbies lining one whole wall, already picturing how beautiful it would look when it was full.

Stacking your few books on the bookshelf, you arranged them alongside Morrigan’s half-burned candles, sniffling each one, and approving each time. You re-fluffed the pillows of the armchair, and then the bed, the shadows watching you explore the whole room with excitement.

Lastly, you toed off your current shoes, setting them neatly by the door, before padding into the ensuite bathroom.

Pale brown stone tiles lined the floor, white tiles lined the walls, with exposed wooden beams just like the rest of the house, pulling it all together. A few soaps and oils sat along one shelf in the shower, with more stashed in a cupboard that stretched from the floor up to the ceiling. Neatly folded towels filled a rack in the corner, the cotton warm to the touch as it was coated in golden sunlight, with bounced from every mirror and made the room glow.

Half sunken into the floor, entirely separate from the shower, was a large bathtub, big enough to accommodate anyone with wings even if they spread them out, and when you sat in the empty tub, you could hardly reach the sides with your arms stretched out.

Your cheeks almost hurt from grinning so much by the time you got control of yourself again, beginning your exploratory mission throughout the house to try and find your way once again.

It wasn’t as hard this time, the third time you’d made the journey, all of it finally starting to feel a little easier. Even if you did cheat a little, following the floral smell of whatever tea Azriel had busied himself with brewing while he waited. He wasn’t in the kitchen when you found him, though.

He was in a room you hadn't seen before, the living room, a space somehow even bigger than your bedroom and his. Combined. The fireplace was crackling to life, the quiet pops of logs sounding through the space, and another tray of tea sat out on the table. He was sitting in one of the many armchairs that were designed to accommodate wings, low-backed couches and loungers filling the room, making it look cosy and inviting.

All the books on these shelves were lined up neatly, arranged in groups with ornaments and trinkets splitting them up, the kinds of things you’d never seen before, surely mementoes from his travels all across the continent and beyond. Hanging over the fireplace was a portrait, snow outside the windows and a Solstice tree full of presents, with what seemed to be Azriel’s entire family gathered around, smiling happily. Even the infant heir was present, little Lord Nyx as a baby, sitting on his mother’s lap.

“Feyre painted it, it was a gift for my birthday last year.”

“When is your birthday?” Your attention moved to Azriel as he stood, smirking and moving to pour a second cup of tea. He told you as he moved, and you stored the information away for later, making sure you’d do something special for it. He asked for your own, information which you happily offered in return for the mug he left on the table for you.

As you stepped closer to the chair beside his own, you spotted your baskets, sitting in a neat stack beside the fire. Decorative and perfectly imperfect in the space, a disbelieving laugh on your lips. On the back of the couch was your blanket, thrown artistically over the cushions, and a squeak left your lips as you saw them.

It was the final drop, the bit that sent every other emotion overflowing within you until tears of happiness were lining your eyes. Seeing them here, so simple but it meant so much to you, and you raced to him, until your arms circled his middle, face pressing into the centre of his chest. You nuzzled in close, overwhelmed by your emotions, overwhelmed by him, and letting out a shaky sound that was muffled by his hoodie.

“Is this okay?” You mumbled, twisting to the side, to press your cheek over his heart instead, the same way he’d fallen asleep on you last night, and the stiffness of his body melted away. His arms wrapped around you, so tight you swore he’d never let you go as he hauled you even closer to himself.

“Yes,” His response was breathy, just as timid as your question had been, but laced with so much emotion it practically lanced right through you. His cheek came down to rest atop your head, kissing your hair before he was hugging you just as desperately as you were him.

“Y’know, this is really nice,” You sniffed, laughing through the tears that were going to break free any second, and relishing the affection he was giving to you. “I think we’re going to work out just fine.”

“I think so too, sweetheart.”

#SLS #sweet like sugar #azriel/you #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar/you #acotar x you #acotar/reader #acotar x reader #acotar

1K notes · View notes

gildedkrone · 1 year

Text

I’m your little scarlet, starlet, singin’ in the garden

Relationships: John Price x Male Reader Synopsis: John finds a million ways to say I love you A/N: Daddy issue readers beware Master List

The day utterly sucks. Wake up, get dressed and get breakfast. Sleep eluded you all night long with eyelids shutting the early morning, only to be wide awake again with the morning alarm and sunlight filtering through the curtains. Grumbling from the other sergeants you shared a room with are part and parcel of mornings and the sounds of shuffling when they got up and ready.

The communal toilets were packed to the brim. You nose upturns at the smell of piss and deodorant from the entrance. The smell is enough to send your stomach roiling in disgust and at barely past eight in the morning; it is too fucking early for this shit. Throwing in the literal towel, you decide to come back later to try your luck at a less congested toilet. The 141 enjoyed their private toilets and rec rooms, and while you worked with Price and his men, you are—technically speaking—not a part of the 141.

Sergeant by rank, combat medic by trade. Assigned under base command and on loan to Price, you did the work of the devil and enjoyed the luxuries of nothing. Your commanding officer, a prick of a Major, fought tooth and nail to keep you under his command when Price requested for your transfer.

Begrudging was Price when he lost the fight.

Sleeping in a noisy and constantly busy bunk was hell and you rub the last wisps of sleep from your dull, pallid eyes. The roar of the cafeteria, normally a dull drone, is a sharp knife serrating on overwhelmed senses. A grimace pulls on your face when you see an unknown soldier take the last available seat at the table with the men you worked with prior. The tray clatters onto another table with a migraine forming in your head.

---

“That’s all, come back in three days if the wound doesn’t start healing.” The injured soldier on the bench grits his teeth just as you tighten the bandage around his arm.

He stares at you expectantly. You probe him to just ask his question. He says something about a medical record. Right. A medical slip excusing him from anything physically laborious. Usual protocol for injured soldiers. Ten minutes later with the printout secured, you dismiss the injured soldier and take a sip of water.

The headache is pulsating, evil festering from the deepest recesses of the mind in a barb to the front. Your hands grip the table for support and rummage through drawers for anything to quell the pain. Someone coughs and you look up to find Price at the door. He is a ray of hope spilling into the space as his smile is fond and endearing. Behind him, Ghost and Soap are there too, peeking into the room from the door.

“Hope you aren’t too busy, sweetheart,” Price drawls in that thick, charming accent of his. You tell him it’s never too much for him and he enters the room.

He smells wonderful and you pick up hints of lilac and jasmine. He smells wonderful and suspiciously similar to the bodywash you gifted him over a month ago. You tease him about finally upgrading his hygiene and earn yourself a few snickers from his men. Price shoots them his signature unimpressed look that morphs into a grin.

“It’s wonderful, sweets. Really appreciate the gift, love.”

Oh.

His smile is resplendent, much like his disposition this morning. It fades slightly when he gestures for Ghost to move forward. You slip into medic mode when he lifts up his shirt to expose the red gash running up his chest.

It’s angry and painful and by the looks of it, quite recent too. A fresh pair of gloves are on and Ghost sits obediently on the gurney. You gently prod at the surrounding flesh while assessing the pain he is in. Ghost gives you single word answers and you grab clean gauzes and bandages. Price is an anxious man, hovering beside you while you gently cleaned the wound. Soap holds the lieutenant’s hand and aside from the occasional jerks and hisses, Ghost remains a good patient and you gently bandage his wound.

“Don’t overdo on the training and make sure to keep the area clean and free of pressure for the next three days, minimum.” Your words emphasise minimum, knowing Ghost’s tendency to disregard his own injuries and medical advice. More than what is good for him.

“He’s going to behave. Ah’m gonnae make sure he doesn’t do anything dumb, promise.” Soap perks up and Ghost shoots him a look of withering ire, prompting a laugh from the sergeant and a huff from the captain.

With nothing else, you discharge Ghost and Soap follows the LT out of the room. Price shows no intention to move as he takes a seat on the couch in the room. You tie the used gloves and throw them into the bin and wash your hands.

“How’s my lad doing today?”

You roll your eyes and tell him that it has been a difficult morning. Between the pounding headache and grievances you had with the way things are run by the surly Major. Price smiles empathetically and he pats his thighs. It’s another hour to lunch and the medical wing is quiet at the time being. No harm in sitting with Price and on his warm lap. He chuffs when you scooch to lean your flank on his abdomen. Large hands encircle your chest and they pull you in for a warm hug; the owner of which is extremely happy to give you kisses on the nose then the lips.

His beard is rough and tingly and you let him know. His amused chuckles are tinged with adoration across the tranquil blanket enveloping the room. No complaints when you’re spilling into my mouth, his scandalous retort earns him a chaste kiss on his cheek and a pout on your lips. The mirth in his eyes are a molten gold and you see yourself in the waterfall of Price’s joy in being this close to his lover. His hand trails your flank and fingertips traces up your face to your temple.

Before you can ask him, rough fingers capable of unadulterated violence on the battlefield display a grace dancing across temples in a soothing manner. You moan on instinct at the slowly receding headache under the gently pull and push of Price’s ministrations.

“John, ah, where did you—”

“Learn to do this? You aren’t the only one with medical experience here, sweetheart.” His voice is helping to ward off the discomfort and he brings your face close for another deep kiss.

You are putty under his ministrations and he takes the opportunity to rest one hand on your hip while the other soothes and calms.

“Our poor medic, worked to the bone by his cruel commanding officer.” You laugh as Price admonishes you to listen. “Won’t happen if you are under my command.”

Your chuckles are interrupted by the occasional gasps when Price’s fingers untangle the knots in your mental faculties.

“Well, Captain, what about me is so important to fight with the Major?” Price grumbles something about an unappreciative asshole and you giggle.

“Hardworking. The most faithful combat medic in the company and,” the glint in his eyes is teasing, “the most handsome.”

Smooth talker, but he doesn’t take any heat.

“Tough and disciplined, I’ve never seen anyone so steadfast in their duty to save lives and protect their teammates.” His whispers are gruff and in puffs of warm air against your ear.

“Not afraid to speak up against idiots, like the bumbling fool assigned as his commanding officer.” Price reminds you of the time you yelled at the Major for even suggesting abandoning the 141 on a mission gone wrong. You tell him it is nothing and his sweet lips are firm and plush against yours.

“An asset, through and through.”

“All mine.”

“Stop embellishing, John. I’m not that impressive. Just your usual, everyday medic.” You jokingly sigh and look into contented eyes shining with the pride of the Captain. The same pride that made Price, well, Price. He heart is telling him to rectify it—the way your perceived yourself.

“I only tell the truth and I will keep speaking it. You can’t stop me, love.” Kisses attack you and your squeak of surprise is drowned out in a tilt of the head. “So beautiful and so fucking hot on the field.”

“I’m sure there are much more capable medics than me serving the country, old man.” A finger is on your lips to shush your words.

“None of that now, love. We are talking about you, not some wanker. If it takes this old man every minute of his life reassuring you, then I will.” Then he starts and it’s an avalanche, clearing the negative thoughts and doubt from the roof of your heart.

“I’m so honoured to know someone like you, love.”

“You are the best thing that I have ever chanced upon.”

“I am so proud to be your Captain and more so, your partner.”

He grasps your head gently and cradles your head against his chest.

“This heart beats for you, love. Can you hear how it yearns for you?” It echoes with the rush of rivers, the gentle crashing of waves on shores of his heart you trod with steps of affection and care.

You nod and Price gives you one of his realest smiles. The kind he reserved for only a selected few, including you. You feel something swell in your at the dopey look on his face.

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Proud of your accomplishments, the effort you put into your work and this relationship.”

“I’m so damn proud to be together with someone like you, darling. Never change, love.”

“You make this old fart so very happy and there’s nothing I won’t do for you. Nothing is too much or too far.”

“Love you so much. So, so much. My good boy.”

My love.

Tears are obscuring the vision of him in a glow that gives him an ethereal look. Your angel, descended from the heavens. He wipes away the tears and rests his forehead on yours. It brings him close, so close and he strokes your cheeks gently. You run a finger through his beard and cup his cheek in a sweet embrace. Time is lost upon the two of you and nothing else matters.

Nothing but the beating of two hearts in sync in a rhythm you labelled as John.

“The boys trust you. And I do, too. There isn’t anyone else out in the world I trust as much as you and …”

“I want you to know that I’ll always be thinking of you.”

“John, you can’t—”

“Always in here.” His hand envelopes yours and brings it to his chest.

“You have me, until the end of time and for as long as you want.”

“Eternity isn’t long enough then.”

The kiss is akin to light pouring from urns of gold and showering the two men in a lustre the shine of the sun and the intensity of fire. He whispers something along the lines of never enough. The nasty headache fades into a dull ache then into nothing. Being with Price is worth the awful mornings with idiot sergeants and the annoying Major assigned to be your boss. Anything, everything is worth being able to spend time with this man called yours.

“I love you, dearest.”

“I love you too. My bear.”

His eyes twinkle at the term of endearment. A bear? He clarifies. Exactly, and he has a beard to match. He gives your hand a squeeze and you push up for another kiss.

Not just a bear.

Your bear.

#fanfic #cod mw2 #captain john price #john price #john price x male reader #john price x reader #male reader #x male reader #x reader #price fanfiction #call of duty

441 notes · View notes

shanieveh · 1 year

Note

Helllo! Your genshin headcanon "I like you so much, you'll know it!" Is very adorable 🥺. I can't help but fall in love with it. And every single of them touch my heart like asdhdgfjfkskj💞🥺. Anyway if by chance your request is open,, can i request for this same headcanon but for albedo, xiao, and maybe baizhu & gorou? Or just albedo🙏 please and thankyou sm 💛

of course!!! request is always open :DDDD

i'm in love with you, and now you know!

—in which the genshin men show how much they mean to you pt. 2

ALBEDO who forgets every experiment when you're around, your hair, you face, your features was all he ever needed to be acquaintanced with. He who draws your every action, what you imagined to be your most basic or even worse filters turned ito a beautiful masterpiece, every flaw and insecurity he creates into a mesmerizing artwork, because that is what you are in his eyes.

XIAO who hugs you and comforts you even in days when he is loaded with pain and suffering, who fluffs your pillows and ready your meal—not knowing how to cook but still tried his best. He watches you sleep in the pale moonlight, your cute little snores being his melodies of the night. Those nights by your side, in your hugs is where the protector becomes protected as he sleeps in your embrace.

THOMA is selfless to everyone, but how an angel he is to you. He who carries you when your feet hurt, massaging the sore areas while he walks back home. He who learnt how to comb your hair gently, styling it in every way you like, learning to master how you do it everyday. But can't seem to do so as he is distracted watching your pretty face concentrate, instead of the quick movements of your arms to create your favorite hairstyle.

BAIZHU who doesn't care if any of his patients need to eat the most disgusting of concoction to feel better, but oh how we frowns on his medical lab trying to figure out a medicine for your light fever, making ways on how to give you the yummiest and eye-pleasing but still effective for to consume. He spends hours, no sleep, no rest, just to see you get better and happier by the day. Baizhu who has always feared death, was even more scared of your single frown.

CHILDE who loves fighting, but not with you. Drops on his knees on your front door, no matter the storm or violent rays of the sun he will be still for days, to knock, to plead and when you finally open the front door to hug, to cherish. He was never really good at apologizing, but strings of tears and sorries were what escaped his relieved face. And then came piles of gifts and flowery words—you were his everything and for him to lose that means he is left with nothing.

GOROU who gets shy when you are near, but how he does for you to do so. Bakes cute cookies, and your exact favorite. Reads your belived novels only for his soldiers to laugh as to why the general was reading romance novels. He who mimics the way you write, the way you talk so maybe you'll notice it. The way he is completely utterly and hopelessly devoted to you alone.

420 notes · View notes

h-didanart · 4 months

Text

I MADE IT

CHARACTER REF SHEETS

FINALLY I CAN SHARE THESE GUYS PROPERLY

*ahem* Hello fellow fans and au makers! I am here to showcase my silly little au. Allow me to introduce you to our main characters:

These are Sunset and Moonlight, from The Sunset and Moonlight show! Close ups and info dump below

Where to start where to start, okay, a general description of the AU should be good to start with yeah? Yeah

This is a swap au, but unlike what I usually see swap AUs do, this is less of a full personality swap and more of a ‘bend the characters to a point where they change roles’ thing.

NOW. THE CHARACTERS THEMSELVES—

Sunset Rays Celestial-

Sun is a tired and apathetic guy. He would like to be left all alone in his room for the rest of his days, but that’s not really a good thing so he’s fine just living a calm and drama-free life.

His hobbies include cleaning, painting, sewing, and gaming. The cleaning has gotten embedded into his code to a concerning degree, he will clean a spot over and over for hours if he’s having a bad day. He got into art while he was undergoing “repairs”, he found painting to be a fun activity despite its messiness, and sewing has proven to be fruitful for his wardrobe. He’s gotten so good at these that he actually gets commissions and is paid very well. He prefers to draw with pastels and markers when he can. The video games are a shared hobby with his twin brother, Moon, they both play together sometimes. His favorite game is Cult of the Lamb.

He has a malfunction of sorts where his voice box will give out randomly and he’ll be unable to talk. It’s annoying but he doesn’t really mind, he has gotten really good at sign language from it. Plus, he uses it as an excuse to avoid talking to Moon whenever he gets the chance to.

The Computer absolutely hates his guts and has sent him off to various different dimensions. He’s acquainted with quite a few people and even has friends.

He has very good aim, both in video games and physically. He usually uses it to throw something at Moon to get his attention. Or to get him to leave him alone. Or to annoy him. Or just because. This has proved to be a really bad habit.

Despite being generally apathetic, he’s actually pretty good with emotions, being able to read them well on others and act accordingly.

He also knows magic.

Crescent Moonlight Celestial-

Moon is an energetic and nervous guy. He wants nothing more than to live happily with his brother. And do science, he’s a nerd.

His hobbies include science and gaming. On the side of science he specializes on robotics, programming, and inter dimensional studies, with some advanced physics as well. He’s a genius, basically. Gaming is a shared hobby between him and his twin brother, they both play together sometimes. He seems to have taken a liking to the Kingdom Hearts series, but Pokémon will forever have his heart.

The killing code is very much still in him, it manifests as heat on the back of his head and irritability. During a full kill code episode he’ll be extremely aggressive, on top of having increased physical capabilities and virtually no filter. He dreads having those and constantly checks his temperature. Independent from the kill code he has a bad temper.

He isn’t exactly a ‘people’s person’ yet due to having been the active Daycare Attendant for a few months he has grown acquainted with a few of the Pizzaplex animatronics. Montgomery took a liking to him. Because money.

Because of reasons he has a lot of bunkers on a lot of different parts of the world. He remembers them all thanks to the collection of tree branches he has picked up when he visited. These are jokingly called The Whacking Sticks (and is a genuine joke, he just likes collecting sticks)

He wanted to learn emotions better so he decided to find the code that controls emotions in himself and turned it on all the way. He’s starting to realize this wasn’t a good idea.

A master acrobat, he loves flying with the wire.

In case it wasn’t clear yet, Sun and Moon switch places in this au. Things may change, and I may come up with funny details later, but I hope you had fun reading this little introduction to my au

More stuff about them to come at some point!

#sun and moon show #tsams #the sun and moon show #sams #sams au #sams swap au #swap au #The Sunset and Moonlight Show #sams sun #sams moon #character reference #things may change but this is the general stuff #Go read the fic (please)#(The first chapter is kinda bad but it’s a cool au I swear—)#Sunset’s an asshole by the way I hope I made that clear #Tune in next time #for more character reference sheets #Hopefully Clipsy and Lunar Eclipse’s #Or maybe one of the Bloodmoons idk

96 notes · View notes

callsigns-haze · 6 months

Text

Lose you to love you

Pairing:Rhysand x reader Warning: This chapter contains explicit sexual content and emotional turmoil SMUT. Summary: In a moment of passion and vulnerability, Rhysand implores YN to come back to him, but she grapples with the weight of her responsibilities as High Lady of the Court of the Lost Gods and yet returns to him. But now with the queen under the mountain things change Series master list (but can be read alone)

As the golden rays of dawn filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room, YN stirred from her slumber, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal the sight of Rhysand lying beside her. A contented smile curved her lips as she shifted closer to him, revelling in the comforting warmth of his embrace.

Feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingertips, YN couldn't help but reach out to trace lazy patterns against his skin, her touch light and affectionate as she played with the light chest hairs that dusted his torso. Rhysand stirred at her touch, a soft murmur escaping his lips as he shifted closer to her, his arms instinctively wrapping around her in a protective embrace.

With a soft chuckle, YN leaned in to press a tender kiss against Rhysand's chest, her lips lingering against his skin as she savored the intimacy of their shared moment. The years they had spent together had only deepened their bond, strengthening the connection that bound them together as mates.

As she lay there, basking in the warmth of their love, YN knew that she had found her home in Rhysand's arms. And as they faced the dawn of a new day together, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and happiness they had found in each other—a love that would endure for all eternity, a beacon of light to guide them through the trials and tribulations of life.

Feeling the gentle tug of YN's fingers playing with his chest hairs, Rhysand stirred from his slumber, his senses gradually returning to him as he emerged from the depths of sleep. A soft groan escaped his lips as he stretched languidly, the sensation of YN's touch sending a jolt of warmth coursing through him.

Opening his eyes, Rhysand found himself greeted by the sight of YN lying beside him, her smile radiant in the soft morning light. His heart swelled with affection as he reached out to pull her closer, relishing the feel of her body pressed against his.

"Good morning, my love," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "What has my beautiful mate so awake and playful this early?"

YN's laughter danced through the air like music, a melody that filled Rhysand's heart with joy. "I couldn't resist," she confessed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she continued to play with his chest hairs. "You looked so peaceful, I just had to wake you up."

Rhysand chuckled, his fingers trailing along her spine in a gentle caress. "Well, I'm certainly glad you did," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Waking up to you is always the best part of my day."

As they lay together, basking in the intimacy of their shared moment, Rhysand knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be—in the arms of the woman he loved, surrounded by the boundless warmth of their love. And as they faced the dawn of a new day together, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the gift of YN's presence in his life—a gift he cherished with every beat of his heart.

As Rhysand's mind wandered through the memories of their incredible 48 years together, a sense of peace settled over him like a warm embrace. From the moment YN had entered his life, she had brought with her a light that had chased away the shadows of his past, filling his days with laughter, love, and endless joy.

Lost in his thoughts, Rhysand felt YN's playful touch rouse him from his reverie, her fingers dancing along his skin in a teasing caress. With a grin, he retaliated, tickling her side gently as he elicited a delighted squeal from her lips.

"Careful now, my love," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he continued to tickle her. "You know what happens when you start a tickle war with me."

YN giggled, squirming beneath his touch as she tried to wriggle free from his grasp. "Oh, is that a threat?" she teased, her eyes sparkling with laughter as she reached out to tickle him in return.

Rhysand chuckled, his heart swelling with affection as he gazed into her eyes. "Consider it a promise," he replied, his voice filled with playful determination as he redoubled his efforts to tickle her.

And so, amidst peals of laughter and playful banter, Rhysand and YN whiled away the morning, their love and laughter filling the room with a warmth that chased away the lingering traces of the night. In each other's arms, they found solace, joy, and an endless wellspring of love—a love that would endure for all eternity, a bond that could never be broken.

As their playful teasing gradually subsided, Rhysand and YN found themselves wrapped in each other's arms, the lingering echoes of their laughter fading into the quiet stillness of the morning. Contentment washed over them like a gentle wave, their hearts overflowing with love and gratitude for the precious moments they shared together.

With a soft sigh, YN snuggled closer to Rhysand, her head resting against his chest as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingers filled her with a sense of peace, anchoring her to the present moment as they savored the simple pleasure of each other's company.

Rhysand brushed a tender kiss against YN's forehead, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along her spine as he held her close. "I love you," he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur that wrapped around her like a warm embrace.

"I love you too," YN replied, her voice soft with emotion as she lifted her gaze to meet his. In that moment, as their eyes locked and their hearts beat as one, she knew that she was exactly where she belonged—in Rhysand's arms, surrounded by the boundless warmth of their love.

As YN gently tried to extricate herself from Rhysand's embrace, a soft chuckle escaped his lips, his arms tightening around her in a playful tug-of-war. "Where do you think you're going, love?" he teased, his voice laced with mock protest as he pulled her closer.

"I have to get up," YN protested with a laugh, her fingers dancing along his chest as she tried in vain to free herself from his grasp. "We can't stay in bed all day, much as I'd love to."

Rhysand grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Who says we can't?" he countered, his voice low and suggestive as he nuzzled against her neck. "I can think of a hundred reasons to stay right here, in bed, with you."

YN's laughter bubbled up from deep within her, a melodic sound that filled the room with warmth and joy. "As much as I love spending time with you," she replied, her voice tinged with affection, "we really do have to get up. Duty calls, remember?"

Rhysand sighed dramatically, his lips forming a pout as he released her from his embrace. "Fine," he conceded with a playful wink. "But only because you asked so nicely."

With a grin, YN leaned in to press a lingering kiss against his lips, her heart overflowing with love for the man who had captured her heart so completely. And as they finally untangled themselves from the warmth of the bed, ready to face whatever the day might bring, they did so hand in hand, their love shining like a beacon to light their way.

----

As the day unfolded, YN found herself accompanying Cassian on a journey through the rugged terrain surrounding their court, the two of them embarking on a mission to map out the land and chart the hidden paths that crisscrossed through the wilderness.

With Cassian leading the way, his expertise in scouting and navigation guiding their every step, YN eagerly followed along, her curiosity piqued by the opportunity to explore the untamed beauty of their homeland. As they trekked through dense forests and winding trails, she marveled at the breathtaking vistas that stretched out before them, her heart swelling with a sense of wonder at the sheer majesty of the natural world.

Throughout the day, Cassian patiently taught YN the intricacies of mapmaking, showing her how to identify landmarks, plot coordinates, and mark their progress as they ventured deeper into the wilderness. With each lesson, YN's skills grew, her confidence blossoming under Cassian's guidance as she embraced the challenges of their journey with determination and enthusiasm.

But amidst the serious task of mapping out the land, there were moments of light-heartedness and laughter, as YN and Cassian shared stories and jokes, their camaraderie strengthening with each passing mile. Whether it was navigating treacherous terrain or taking a well-deserved break to enjoy a picnic lunch beneath the shade of a towering oak tree, their bond grew stronger with every shared experience.

As they paused in their mapping efforts, YN turned to Cassian, her brow furrowed with concern. "Have you noticed anything... off about Rhys lately?" she asked, her voice soft with worry. "He's been acting strangely—stressed, almost clingy at times. It's not like him."

Cassian's expression grew serious as he considered YN's words, his mind racing with possibilities. He knew all too well the dangers that lurked in the shadows, the ever-present threat of the witch under the mountain and her insidious schemes. And he couldn't shake the feeling that Rhys's recent behavior was somehow connected to those dark forces at play.

"I've noticed it too," Cassian admitted, his voice grave. "And I think I know what's been weighing on his mind." He paused, choosing his words carefully before continuing. "The witch under the mountain... she's been making moves, trying to gain a foothold among the High Lords. I think Rhys fears that she's getting closer, that her influence is spreading."

YN's eyes widened in alarm, the gravity of Cassian's words sinking in. "But what can we do?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "How do we stop her?"

Cassian's jaw clenched with determination as he met YN's gaze, his resolve shining bright in the depths of his eyes. "We stand together," he declared, his voice ringing with conviction. "We protect our own, no matter the cost."

With a nod of understanding, YN took Cassian's hand in hers, their fingers intertwining in a silent vow of solidarity.

And as they resumed their mapping efforts, their hearts fortified by the strength of their bond, YN and Cassian knew that no matter what trials awaited them, they would face them together, their resolve unyielding in the face of adversity. For in each other, they had found not only allies, but also friends—friends who would stand by their side through every battle, every hardship, and every triumph that lay ahead.

----

As the evening descended and the court gathered for dinner in the grand dining room, the atmosphere was alive with the vibrant energy of camaraderie and friendship. Mor, Cassian, Azriel, Armen, Rhysand, and YN took their seats around the long, ornately carved table, their laughter and banter filling the air like music.

Armen, with her infectious laughter and quick wit, added her own flair to the lively conversation. Her presence brought a unique dynamic to the table, her playful teasing matched only by her unwavering loyalty to her friends.

As the first course was served, the conversation flowed freely, punctuated by Armen's witty remarks and sharp retorts. Mor and Cassian engaged in their usual banter, their friendly rivalry adding an extra layer of amusement to the proceedings.

Azriel observed the lively exchange with a fond smile, his quiet demeanor a calming presence amidst the spirited conversation. Meanwhile, Rhysand and YN shared knowing glances, their love for each other evident in the gentle touches and affectionate gestures they exchanged.

Throughout the meal, Armen kept everyone on their toes with her quick wit and sharp tongue, her playful banter drawing laughter and smiles from the others. Despite the occasional small argument or teasing remark, there was an undeniable warmth and affection that bound them all together—a bond forged through countless shared experiences and unwavering loyalty.

As the dinner progressed and laughter filled the room, Rhysand couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. His keen eyes noticed the uncharacteristic quietness of YN, a subtle shift in her demeanor that didn't escape his notice. Sensing her unease, he reached out to her telepathically, his mind brushing against hers with gentle concern.

"Are you okay, love?" Rhysand whispered silently, his voice a soft murmur in the depths of her mind. "You seem... distant tonight. Is there something on your mind?"

YN's heart skipped a beat as she felt Rhysand's presence in her mind, his words a comforting reassurance amidst the swirling tide of her thoughts. With a sigh, she allowed her mental barriers to lower, inviting him into her thoughts with a sense of relief.

"I'm fine, Rhys," she replied, her mental voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "Just feeling a bit... overwhelmed, I suppose. It's nothing, really."

Rhysand's brow furrowed with concern at her words, his mind reaching out to gently caress hers in a silent gesture of comfort. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" he murmured softly, his voice filled with warmth and understanding. "I'm here for you, always."

Feeling the weight of his love and support wash over her like a soothing balm, YN couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the man who knew her so well, who could sense her emotions even when she tried to hide them. With a small smile, she allowed herself to lean into his mental embrace, finding solace in the unspoken bond that connected them, heart and soul.

And as they shared a moment of quiet understanding amidst the bustle of the dinner table, Rhysand and YN knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, their love a guiding light in even the darkest of times.

As the dinner conversation gradually quieted, Rhysand rose to his feet, his expression grave as he addressed the assembled company. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air as he spoke of Amarantha's rise to power under the mountain, her newfound control over the lands that lay beyond the borders of Velaris.

"As a High Lord, it is my duty to protect our people, our lands, and our way of life," Rhysand began, his voice steady despite the turmoil that churned within him. "But with Amarantha's ascension to rule under the mountain, our very existence is threatened. She holds sway over Velaris, and if we are to survive, we must tread carefully."

His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a pall over the gathered company as they absorbed the gravity of the situation. Rhysand's gaze lingered on YN, his heart heavy with the weight of the decision he was about to make.

"And so, I must make a difficult choice," Rhysand continued, his voice tinged with regret. "I must join Amarantha's side, for the sake of our people, for the safety of Velaris. But in doing so, I leave behind a void—a void that must be filled."

Turning to YN, Rhysand's eyes softened with a mixture of love and concern. "YN," he said, his voice gentle but firm, "I ask that you take over the stewardship of Velaris in my absence. You know the city better than anyone, and I trust you to keep it safe until I can return."

But YN's response was swift and unwavering, her eyes flashing with determination as she shook her head. "I can't," she replied, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions that roiled within her. "If the courts are in danger, then I have to go back to mine. I can't abandon my people for good, I'm still their lady, not after everything we've been through."

Rhysand's heart clenched with anguish at her words, torn between his duty to his people and his love for YN. But deep down, he knew she was right. He couldn't ask her to make that sacrifice, not when he knew the depth of her commitment to her own court.

With a heavy sigh, Rhysand nodded in understanding, his gaze never wavering from YN's. "I understand," he murmured softly, his voice thick with emotion. "But know that no matter where our paths may lead us, my love for you will never falter. We will find a way to overcome this, together."

And as the weight of their shared burden settled upon them, Rhysand and YN knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them side by side, their love a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf them. For in each other's arms, they found strength, courage, and the unwavering determination to fight for the future they believed in, no matter the cost.

As Rhysand grappled with the weight of his decision, a pang of guilt gnawed at his heart like a relentless tide, threatening to consume him with its relentless grip. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was abandoning YN, leaving her to shoulder the burden of his responsibilities while he pursued his own path.

Denial clawed at the edges of his mind, whispering that he was doing what was necessary to protect their people, to safeguard the fragile peace they had fought so hard to maintain. But deep down, he knew the truth—he was running away, fleeing from the guilt that threatened to drown him in its suffocating embrace.

Turning to Mor, Rhysand's voice wavered with uncertainty as he made his plea. "Mor," he began, his words a whispered confession, "I know this is a lot to ask, but... I need you to take my place. To lead our people, to protect Velaris, to... to be everything I cannot."

Mor's eyes softened with compassion as she reached out to place a comforting hand on Rhysand's shoulder, her touch a silent reassurance amidst the storm of emotions that raged within him. "Of course, Rhys," she replied, her voice gentle but resolute. "I'll do whatever it takes to help you, to help our court. You're not alone in this."

But even as Mor offered her support, Rhysand couldn't shake the guilt that weighed heavily upon him, threatening to crush him beneath its unforgiving weight. For in his heart of hearts, he knew that no matter what path he chose, he would always carry the burden of his decisions, the weight of his guilt, and the knowledge that he had left behind the one person he loved more than life itself.

And as he faced the uncertain future that lay ahead, Rhysand knew that he could only pray for forgiveness, for understanding, and for the strength to carry on, even in the face of his deepest regrets. For in the end, all he could do was follow his heart, wherever it may lead, and trust that love would light the way through even the darkest of nights.

As Rhysand made his request to Azriel and Cassian, asking them to continue their duties in the Night Court in his absence, YN's voice cut through the air like a blade, her question hanging heavy in the silence that followed.

"When are you leaving?" she asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and resignation.

Rhysand's gaze softened as he met YN's eyes, the weight of his decision heavy upon his shoulders. "In a week," he replied quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

YN's heart clenched at his words, the reality of their impending separation settling over her like a suffocating blanket. She knew that Rhysand's duty called him away, knew that he had to do what was necessary to protect their people. But that didn't make the prospect of his departure any less painful.

Rhysand reached out to take YN's hand in his, his touch a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions that raged within her. "I promise I'll come back to you," he whispered, his voice filled with determination. "No matter what it takes, I'll find my way back to your side."

A tear slipped down YN's cheek as she nodded in silent acceptance, her heart heavy with the weight of their impending separation. But even as the shadows of uncertainty loomed large on the horizon, she knew that their love would endure, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf them.

As the dinner drew to a close, YN felt a lump form in her throat, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Without a word, she rose from the table, her movements swift and determined as she made her way to the door, the weight of her sorrow pressing down upon her like a suffocating blanket.

Rhysand watched in silent anguish as YN fled from the room, her departure leaving a gaping void in his heart. With a heavy sigh, he turned to the group, his voice thick with regret as he offered a hurried apology for her sudden exit.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his words barely above a whisper. "I'll be right back."

With that, Rhysand dashed after his mate, his heart pounding in his chest as he raced to catch up with her. He found her standing alone in the hallway, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"YN," he called out softly, his voice filled with tender concern. "Please, love, don't cry."

But YN couldn't hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to consume her, her tears falling unchecked as she struggled to contain the overwhelming grief that consumed her.

Rhysand gathered her into his arms, holding her close as he whispered words of comfort and reassurance. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, his voice filled with remorse. "I didn't mean to upset you. Please, forgive me."

YN buried her face in his chest, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace as she allowed herself to release the pent-up emotions that had been building inside her. In that moment, she knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, their love a guiding light in the darkness that threatened to engulf them.

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Rhysand and YN knew that no matter what trials awaited them, they would overcome them, united in their unwavering devotion to each other. For in the end, their love would always be stronger than any obstacle they might face, a bond that could never be broken, no matter the distance or the tears that threatened to tear them apart.

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@kmc1989

@hardballoonlove

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@marvel-molly

@lucky7rosie

#acotar x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #rhys x y/n #rhys x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you #rhys x you smut #rhys smut

63 notes · View notes

fanficapologist · 5 months

Text

Of Dragons and Maelstroms: Aemond POV

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Eight

“You do not know what you are asking for, but make no mistake, you are asking a great deal.”

Aemond found himself back at Harrenhal mere hours after the ball had ended, seeking solace away from the hustle and bustle of the Red Keep. As the first rays of light filtered through the window, they flickered off his sharp features, casting shadows across his furrowed brow as he leaned his head against his arm, his silver hair falling forward.

In the quiet of the room, Aemond felt the weight of desperation pressing down on him. Time was running out, and with Maera's reputation restored and the allure of the Master of Coin's dowry drawing every nobleman to her side, the Prince knew he needed to act swiftly. He couldn't afford to lose her to another suitor if he was to secure his great destiny.

Alys's penchant for speaking in riddles only served to exacerbate Aemond's frustration. Despite her purported great powers, he found her presence irksome. Her dull, long dark hair and cat-like green eyes got on his nerves, as did the enigmatic smile she always seemed to wear. The fact that he was entertaining these fantastical notions of magic and prophecy grated against his sense of logic and reason. Yet, the overwhelming desire to claim Maera for himself had clouded any semblance of judgment he had left.

"A daughter of a minor House will never be betrothed to a prince, especially during times of war when marriages are needed to secure allies," the Prince proclaimed with an edge of exasperation as he rose from his seat, his movements agitated as he inspected Alys's array of trinkets on the nearby table. “She needs to have something of use to the crown.”

Turning to face the witch, who lounged in her chair beside the hearth, Aemond's gaze bore into hers with intensity. "I don't care how you do it but find a way," he commanded, the tension in the room thickening with each passing moment.

Alys furrowed her brow, her green eyes meeting Aemond's with a piercing intensity. After a moment of contemplation, she broke the silence. "She has an aunt, does she not? In Morne?"

Aemond nodded curtly, acknowledging the mention of Maera's maternal aunt. "Her mother's twin, married to Lord Byron of the Fortress of Fog," he confirmed, his tone clipped with anticipation.

"Lord Byron controls quite a fleet," Alys continued, her voice taking on a thoughtful tone as she retrieved a scroll from her shelves and unfurled it to reveal a world map, laying it on the table beside the Prince. "And while the Lannister fleet is strong, the fleet of Morne possesses superior knowledge of the East Waters, akin to the Velaryon fleet."

The Prince shook his head in disbelief, a furrow deepening on his brow. “Lord and Lady Morne have children. The fortress and the fleet would pass to them,” he stated firmly, his voice edged with incredulity at the suggestion.

Alys merely shrugged in response, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Not if something were to happen to all of them,” she retorted, her tone tinged with an unsettling confidence.

Aemond recoiled slightly, taken aback by the brazenness of her proposal. “You’re talking about erasing an entire House,” he protested, his words heavy with disbelief and moral indignation.

The witch's smile only widened, her gaze unyielding. “I’m talking about securing the fleet to Lady Maera’s dowry in order for her to be your bride,” Alys persisted, her words cutting through the air like a blade. “Or do you not wish the prophecy to come true? For the King of Kings to be born?”

Aemond's eye flashed with frustration and anger, his jaw tensing as he struggled to contain his emotions. “I know, witch!” he snapped, his voice sharp with irritation. He turned away from her, his gaze darting around the room as he grappled with the weight of Alys's proposition. “She will never forgive me. Lady Viserra is the last connection to her mother. She writes to her.”

Alys remained unmoved, her demeanor devoid of any semblance of empathy or remorse. "Her heartache will pass," she declared coldly, her words ringing out with a callous certainty that left Aemond feeling unsettled and conflicted. “You will be King. And she will be your Queen,” the witch reminded him. “Through the binding of a son and daughter the King of Kings will be born, to unite and conquer the world.”

His jaw tensed as he contemplated the ramifications of Alys's plan. While Aemond didn't care about wiping out an entire House, he couldn't ignore the fact that the news would devastate Maera. He remembered her speaking fondly of her Aunt Viserra, the twin of her late mother. Losing her mother at such a young age had already inflicted enough pain on Maera, and the thought of causing her more suffering didn't sit well with him.

However, Aemond couldn't deny the strategic advantage their deaths could bring. Maera would inherit the fleet, a valuable asset for the war effort. This would give Aemond a reason to marry her, fulfilling the prophecy and potentially bringing forth the King of Kings. It was a tough decision. But Aemond also thought about all the years Maera had not been in his life, all the dark and twisted turns fate had led him down. He could not lose her again.

“Just see it done,” Aemond relented through gritted teeth, his frustration evident in the tense set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow.

The witch grinned wickedly, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “I will need something from you. After all, the Gods need payment for granting you this path.”

“Fine,” Aemond said tersely, dismissing her request with a wave of his hand. “More hair, more blood, whatever, just take it.”

But Alys shook her head slowly, a coy smile playing on her lips. “No, my Prince,” she replied, her voice taking on a sultry tone that sent a shiver down Aemond’s spine. “I need something much, much more valuable.”

As she attempted to brush her finger across his jawline, Aemond reacted instinctively, seizing her wrist firmly to halt the contact. His grip was firm, his violet eye flashing with a mixture of anger and suspicion as he stared into her emerald gaze. “The bloodline will come from your seed, my Prince,” she continued, undeterred by his reaction. “Therefore, that is where we must start. We must join together physically, to enable old magic and the blood of old Valyria to bind together as one.”

Aemond’s grip tightened further, his nails digging into her flesh as he struggled to contain his fury. “You expect me to lie with you?” he spat, his voice laced with contempt. “A witch, a whore?” With a forceful push, he shoved her hand away from him, his gaze burning with indignation and disgust. He could not believe she had the sheer audacity to ask this of him.

Stooping so low to sleep with a whore was one thing, but the potential consequences of this was an entirely different matter- children. Illegitimate children. Bastards. Aemond thought back to all the times his mother received news that another silver-haired babe had been born in a brothel in Flea Bottom. The shame and disappointment that would cloud Queen Alicent’s face was a horrendous sight to behold. There was no way Aemond could let that happen.

And then there was Maera, the woman he would be doing this for. If a child was born from lying with the witch, there would be a high possibility she would never know. However the thought of that ate away at his soul. It would be the ultimate blow to her. To kill her family in order to secure him to his side, and bring a bastard into the world through doing so?

"I will have no bastards running around the Riverlands," Aemond spat, his words laced with venom as he glared at the witch.

Alys met his gaze with equal fervor, her expression hardening as she retorted, "I can have no more children. My last birth damaged my womb, nothing can grow there."

Aemond's resolve remained unshaken, his tone resolute as he declared, "I am not risking it. The answer is no."

Turning away, he moved toward the chair where he had been seated moments before, intent on gathering his belongings and leaving. But Alys's voice cut through the silence, her words dripping with malice. "Very well. I am sure Lady Maera will make a gracious wife to Lord Warren Tully. If he is named Lord Grover’s heir, she will be the Lady of Riverrun. And she will give him many children."

Aemond froze mid-step, his muscles tensing as he processed her words. Memories of the harvest moon ball flooded his mind—the way Maera and Lord Warren exchanged smiles, the subtle blush on her cheeks, the intensity in the Lord’s gaze when he spoke to her. Despite the pain it caused him to even consider Alys’s proposal, the thought of Maera in the arms of another man felt like a stab to Aemond’s stomach.

A cold fury boiled within him as Alys continued to taunt him, her voice like a dagger twisting in his gut. "Then you can return to being the second son, the loyal lapdog of your brother, carrying out his duties with no thanks or rewards to show for it."

Unable to contain his rage any longer, Aemond stormed back across the room, his movements swift and purposeful as he seized Alys by the throat, his grip firm and unyielding. Despite Aemond's firm grip around her throat, Alys remained composed, her defiance unyielding as she continued to provoke him. "You are angry because I speak the truth. It is a hard thing to swallow, isn't it? Reality?"

Aemond's silence only seemed to fuel Alys's audacity, her taunts cutting through the air even as his fingers tightened around her neck. But she met his gaze with a steady smile, undeterred by his fury. "Your time is running out. This is your last chance."

The Prince hesitated, biting his bottom lip in contemplation. Despite his disgust at the idea of sleeping with her, he couldn't deny the power of her foresight. It was thanks to her abilities that Maera's reputation had been restored. Yet the urgency made him feel that he was being backed into a corner, like a trapped animal. He despised the idea of succumbing to Alys's demands, but he couldn't shake the allure of what her plan could offer—a marriage that would lead to glory, perhaps even happiness.

With a dark glower, Aemond released his grip, his expression a storm of conflicting emotions as he grudgingly acquiesced. "Let's get it over with."

He made his way over to Alys's small bed in the corner of the room, feeling the contrast with his own grander accommodations in the Red Keep. As he lay back, Alys climbed atop his lap, straddling him as her hands moving to unbutton his doublet, a sly smile on her face. With a scoff, Aemond shoved her back, refusing to let her touch him more than necessary. He felt a surge of revulsion at the thought of being intimate with her. This was a means to an end and he would not bear himself before her.

Instead he slid his hand down to his dark trousers and unlaced them, releasing his cock and began pumping it quickly to make it hard. His gaze flicked up momentarily to Alys, who watched him with bated breath. The look on her face caused him to recoil, and he tore his gaze away from her, focusing on a distant point in the room. After a moment he looked down, to see that his body had reacted to the stimulation before his head hit the pillow in defeat.

The Prince could hear the rustling of Alys's skirts, and feel the warmth of her hovering about him had him desperately trying to find a way to occupy his mind, focusing on anything but the situation he found himself in. Yet as he felt her move his cock and her slowly slide down on it with a groan, he froze. It was all too similar to his first night in the brothel with Aegon. The seedy atmosphere, the unfamiliar room, the feeling of being trapped underneath someone. It was too much to bear.

He steadied his breathing, knowing if the task was to be completed, for the spell to be cast, he needed to focus. Alys’s gasps filled the air, yet the sound transported him somewhere more pleasant. Aemond vividly pictured Maera's ferocity with the sword, her determined expression, and the intensity of her breath as she faced him in the courtyard for the first time a few moons ago.

He recalled the moment he had pinned her beneath him, forcing her to yield. The flush on her face and the glistening beads of sweat on her forehead were captivating. He remembered how he had sliced her tunic, revealing more of the expanse of her chest, a sight that had stirred something within him.

And then, he remembered the cut he had inflicted upon her, just above her left breast. The image of the blood staining her turquoise tunic and running gracefully across her pale skin remained etched in his memory. Gods, if it had not been for the crowd of onlookers, he would have bent down and ran his tongue across her soft skin, tasting the coppery red liquid with glee. To see her completely submitted to him in that moment stirred something primal within him, and it was a sight he wanted to behold every day until the end of his days.

With a quiet groan, Aemond released his seed, Alys continuing to rock against him until he was completely spent. Once it was done, he shoved Alys aside and rose abruptly from the bed, his demeanor cold and distant as he stuffed his cock back into his trousers and began gathering his belongings.

"You are leaving?" Alys inquired, her tone tinged with curiosity, and slight hurt.

Aemond shot her a disdainful glance, his lip curling in a sneer. "Well, I certainly would not stay," he retorted, his voice dripping with contempt. "I need to bathe before I return to my duties."

As he made his way to the door, Aemond paused, casting one final glance back at Alys sitting on the bed. "This was disgusting and it will never happen again," he spat, his words laden with bitterness. "And you better pray that it will work. My patience has reached its limit." With that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

After a number of days of attending to duties on his idiot older brother’s behalf, Aemond soared through the sky on the back of Vhagar towards Kings Landing, the setting sun painted the horizon in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the landscape below. Despite the beauty of the scenery, Aemond's thoughts were consumed by the disturbing memory of his encounter with Alys.

The image of Alys climbing atop him, her touch repulsive and unwelcome, made his stomach churn with disgust. He felt a profound sense of regret and shame for allowing himself to be manipulated into such a degrading act. Even as the wind whipped through his hair and the rhythmic beating of Vhagar's wings filled the air, Aemond's thoughts remained troubled. He couldn't rid himself of the unease that lingered, casting a pall over what should have been a serene flight home.

When the dragon began her descent, Aemond's keen eye caught sight of a vivid splash of turquoise atop the sand dunes below. His heart quickened as he recognized the color, knowing it belonged to Maera's distinctive attire. However, his excitement turned to a bitter taste in his mouth as he saw her accompanied by a man, their figures silhouetted against the setting sun. Fuelled by a mixture of curiosity and a rising tide of jealousy, Aemond commanded Vhagar to land behind a cliffside, seeking a vantage point from which he could observe discreetly.

With a powerful beat of her wings, Vhagar gracefully descended, her massive form casting a shadow over the rugged terrain below. As her claws touched down on the sandy ground, Aemond dismounted, his mind racing with questions and uncertainty. As the Prince ducked down towards the ground on his approach, his determination to observe without being seen intensified. The sound of Maera's lively chatter reached his ears, carried by the gentle sea breeze, stirring up conflicting emotions within him.

Peering up, Aemond's gaze fell upon the man accompanying Maera, and a surge of anger coursed through him. It appeared the wretched Tully cunt had used Aemond’s absence to sink his claws even further into Maera, demonstrated by their apparent courting on the shoreline, chaperoned by her newly appointed supposed protector. The sight of them together fueled Aemond's frustration, and he could no longer stand idly by. With a determined stride, he made his way towards them, his anger barely concealed beneath his stoic facade. His tense jaw and piercing stare locked onto Maera's, betraying the tumult of emotions raging within him.

The Lord and Lady stood to acknowledge Aemond's presence, and the Prince couldn't help but notice the irked expressions on their faces. Ignoring the tension, Aemond enjoyed the momentary satisfaction of seeing Lord Warren bow respectfully and Lady Maera curtsy, and decided to play along with the ridiculous charade for a moment.

"It is a beautiful evening to be walking by the sea,” the Prince commented, gazing out to the shoreline momentarily before setting his gaze back onto the couple.

"Indeed,” the Tully Lord concurred eagerly. “Though the night is not half as beautiful as Lady Maera."

Each word the trout spoke grated on Aemond, fueling his frustration as he dug his nails into his palm to suppress his rising anger. Seeing Maera's receptiveness to the compliments only intensified his inner turmoil, causing him to grit his teeth in frustration.

As Aemond's frustration mounted, he found himself not only seething at Lord Warren but also at Lady Maera. Why was she so obstinate in resisting the potential fulfillment of their shared destiny? Though she remained unaware of it, Aemond couldn't help but feel that the Gods should be guiding her towards him, not away.

Eager to disrupt this mummers farce unfolding before him, Aemond began sarcastically divulging information about Lord Warren's courtship of other ladies at court. He could not be seen as the valiant attentive lover that he so obviously was not. Lord Warren was a vile little serpent, like every other ridiculous man who appeared at court and wanted to gain power.

Observing Maera's reaction, Aemond noted the fury in her eyes, yet it wasn't directed at Lord Warren as it should have been. Instead, it was aimed squarely at him. Despite her anger being misdirected, Aemond found himself strangely grateful for the intensity of her emotions. Being the recipient of her fury felt like a peculiar blessing, amplifying his resolve to assert his claim over her.

As Lord Warren stepped forward, matching Aemond toe-to-toe, the Prince stifled a laugh. They were of similar height, but Aemond exuded a quiet confidence in his own prowess. Oh, how he longed for Lord Warren to make the first move so he would have an excuse to gut him like the fish he was, right in front of Maera.

However, fate intervened in an unexpected manner. Suddenly, distant shouts pierced the air, drawing everyone's attention. Out of the sky descended the wild dragon, Ēbrion, its deep blue and black scales glinting in the sunlight as it landed on the beach with a resounding thud.

The beast skulked along the sand towards them, its scales gleaming in the fading light, each step seemed to shake the ground beneath their feet. Its massive form cast a daunting shadow over the four figures below, its wings folded against its back, and its orange eyes fixated on them with an unsettling intensity, glinting with a primal intelligence.

Aemond, feeling an innate urge to move, positioned himself in front of Maera, his stance protective and resolute. His muscles tensed, ready to react to any sudden movement from the dragon, his single violet eye narrowed in focus.

Glancing back at Maera, he observed her reaction closely. Her lips were slightly parted in silent awe, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her green eyes fixed on the gigantic beast hovering above them. Despite the looming danger, there was a curious glint in her eyes, a hint of fascination mixed with a steely resolve.

Aemond attempted to command the dragon, his voice firm but futile against the creature's primal instincts, the beast responded with a low, bone-chilling growl. Its massive form remained imposing, its orange eyes burning with a wild intensity, as if challenging any attempts to control it.

Uncertain of what would happen next, Aemond felt a sudden movement behind him, the sensation of someone reaching for his belt. Whipping around, he saw Maera standing there, a dagger in her hand, her gaze fixed on the dragon with an unexpected calmness. It was a sight that left Aemond, along with Lord Warren and Ser Arryk, utterly astounded.

Maera's demeanor was strikingly composed as she gently shushed the dragon, as one would soothe a restless child. Her actions defied logic and expectation, yet there was an undeniable air of authority in her presence, a quiet confidence that seemed to resonate with the beast. As Aemond watched in awe and admiration, Maera took the dagger to her palm, slicing through it with a swift motion. Blood began to drip onto the sand below, and despite her wince of pain, she remained resolute.

Stepping in front of the Prince, Maera presented her palm to the dragon, her expression determined yet strangely serene. Aemond held his breath, his gaze fixed on the unfolding scene, his heart pounding in his chest. Studying the dragon's response intently, Aemond noted the subtle changes in its demeanor. The beast's pupils dilated, and its tense muscles seemed to relax ever so slightly in response to Maera's soothing efforts.

Ēbrion slowly leaned forward, bridging the gap between them, Aemond watched in amazement as Maera reached out to touch its snout. The dragon seemed to inhale deeply, its nostrils flaring as it took in the scent of her blood. Despite the inherent danger, there was an undeniable sense of trust in the air.

Aemond couldn't help but release a shocked laugh, a mixture of disbelief and awe. His understanding of dragon body language, honed from years of experience with Vhagar and extensive research, confirmed what he was witnessing. The blue dragon was accepting Maera's presence, calmed by her command in a way that was truly extraordinary.

As the beast seemed content and began to depart, his massive form turning gradually, Aemond couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. The tension in the air began to dissipate as the dragon made his way back towards his cave lair, leaving them behind on the beach.

However, Aemond's attention quickly shifted when he heard Maera let out a shaky exhale. He turned to see her momentarily losing her balance, causing her to step backward. Acting on instinct, Aemond reached out and caught her, his hands gripping her upper arms firmly. In that moment, he offered her support after the harrowing encounter, silently reassuring her with his presence.

She had a faced a dragon head on, yet Ser Arryk and Lord Warren hovered around Maera, fussing over her like she was a fragile creature, causing Aemond to roll his eye in annoyance. The sight of them coddling her as if she couldn't handle herself grated on his nerves. It was ridiculous. Despite the commotion, Maera let out a shaky laugh, her emotions still raw from the encounter with the dragon. Aemond couldn't help but admire her resilience, even in the face of such danger.

Growing tired of Lord Warren’s familiarity with Maera as he cupped her face, Aemond forcefully shoved him aside and stepped closer to her. With a soft touch, he tilted Maera's chin up to inspect her face, concern evident in his one good eye.

After a moment more of shaky laughter, Maera synchronized her breathing with Aemond's, a gesture that helped to calm her nerves. As they settled into a shared rhythm, Aemond couldn't help but feel a sense of connection with her, as if they were in sync not just in their breathing, but in their understanding of each other.

Lost in the depths of her forest green eyes, Aemond felt a silent understanding pass between them. It was an unspoken bond that seemed to transcend words, a connection that he couldn't deny. In that moment, with his finger lingering beneath her chin, Aemond felt as though the Gods were with him, guiding them both towards a path they were meant to follow.

"She's just a bit shaken, but she'll be fine,” the Prince assured the knight and lord.

Lord Warren, however, was far from pleased. His anger flared, and he retorted sharply, emphasizing Maera's wounded hand. "She has a gaping wound on her hand; she needs the Maester to look at it." His words were laced with frustration.

Aemond, his patience wearing thin, responded with equal vehemence. "Maera is tougher than she looks, and she doesn't need a mere trout like you to protect her," he spat out, the tension between the two men palpable, their gazes locked in a silent battle. But Maera intervened, her voice steady as she insisted that Aemond was correct. It was merely shock, and she was fine. She expressed her desire to continue her walk with Lord Warren, her words serving as a diplomatic bridge between the two proud men.

Aemond, in response, repeated the phrase he had spoken to Maera at the ball, coveting it in High Valyrian so Lord Warren could not understand; "Se zaldrīzes se klios gaomagon daor rholagon.” The fish and the dragon do not mix

With a stoic face, Aemond accepted Maera's request for him to leave, acknowledging silently that he had achieved his goal of disrupting her time with Lord Warren, and that was enough satisfaction for him. With a curt nod, he bid them farewell and turned to walk away.

However, as he strolled away, an inexplicable feeling urged him to linger for a moment longer, to observe the couple from a distance. Aemond made his way towards the dragon keepers, using the opportunity to scold them for their lack of control over the massive blue dragon. Yet even as he chastised them, his lilac eye remained fixed on Maera and Lord Warren in the distance, unable to shake off the curiosity and concern that gnawed at him.

The Prince watched as Maera glanced in his direction while Lord Warren conversed with her, a smirk playing on his lips, knowing he had captured her attention. Yet his satisfaction was short-lived as his expression twisted from gleeful to enraged. Maera extended her hand to cup Lord Warren's face, muttering words before boldly pressing a kiss to his lips. Aemond seethed with fury, his fists clenched at his sides as he stormed away from the dragon keepers who were still talking to him.

With swift, purposeful strides, he marched along the beach towards the Red Keep, the sand crunching beneath his boots as his mind raced. He was done being tested by the Gods, by the witch, by Maera, by everybody. It was time for Aemond to once again seize control of his destiny. And the first step would be getting rid of the trout. He needed to go.

Night descended upon the Red Keep, the torches lining the corridors flickering to life, casting dancing shadows that seemed to stretch and sway with the gentle drafts of air. The once bustling halls now grew quiet, the echoes of footsteps fading into the background as the inhabitants of the castle retired to their chambers. In the depths of the Keep, where the shadows clung eagerly to the stone walls, the darkness seemed to deepen. The torchlight struggled to penetrate the gloom, casting eerie silhouettes that lurked in every corner and crevice.

Alone in an alcove, Aemond sat with his back against the cold stone, his fingers absently tracing the intricate patterns of his dagger's hilt. The soft glow of torchlight barely reached him, leaving him enveloped in a cocoon of darkness as he grappled with the tumultuous thoughts swirling in his mind.

The Prince’s one-eyed gaze flicked up as he heard the telltale sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor. His jaw clenched instinctively, anticipating the source of the intrusion. As Lord Warren's figure came into view, striding purposefully down the corridor, Aemond's lip curled with disdain. The ridiculous smile adorning Lord Warren's face only served to deepen Aemond's irritation, his grip tightening on the hilt of his dagger as he realised the Lord was making his way to the Master of Laws’ chambers.

In the dimly lit corridor, Aemond emerged from the shadows, his voice carrying a casual yet pointed tone. "A little late for political visits, do not think, my Lord?"

Lord Warren, with a hint of exasperation, turned to face him, plastering a forced smile on his face. "With a matter such as this, my Prince, I do not think it can wait."

Aemond took a deliberate step closer, his gaze unwavering as he pressed further. "And what matter would that be, hmm?"

Lord Warren chuckled softly, his expression shifting to one of sincerity. "Speaking with her at the ball piqued my interest," he began, his smile growing warmer. "Spending time with her this evening has only made me more sure."

As Lord Warren bid the Prince a respectful nod and made to depart, Aemond halted him with another question, his tone laced with skepticism. "You think yourself worthy of her hand?"

The Tully Lord pivoted back around, meeting Aemond's gaze with a confident demeanor. "Do you, my Prince?" he countered, closing the distance between them until they stood face to face. His smile took on a sly edge. "I only ask because you seem very interested in her."

The Prince’s lips curled into a knowing smile, a facade concealing his true intentions. He refused to give the satisfaction of confirming such a notion to someone so beneath him. The dragon need not concern himself with a the opinion of a mere trout.

“You wish to be Lord of Riverrun, do you not?”

The Tully Lord furrowed his brow, silent for a moment before stating, “I only wish-“

“Spare me,” Aemond waved his hand dismissively, cutting through the man’s excuses like a sword through parchment. He had no interest in hearing platitudes about family, duty or honour; in Aemond’s view, all men of the court were nothing but power-hungry leeches, and Lord Warren was no exception.

During his two weeks away from King's Landing, Aemond was diligent in attending to his duties. Despite the regrettable encounter with Alys, he remained focused on the matters at hand, which were a welcome distraction. At Harrenhal, Aemond had established a miniature council of nobles to assist him in overseeing the war effort. This council served to keep him informed on war plans and to delegate tasks effectively.

Among its members were the sharp Lord Peake, the elderly Lord Vance, and the skeptical Lord Butterwell. It was Lord Butterwell who had just provided Aemond with an important update in regards to House Tully, an update that the Prince could use in this moment.

"I have information to secure Riverrun for you. Information about your cousins and their whereabouts," Aemond declared confidently, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Lord Warren responded with a skeptical smile and a disbelieving laugh. "You do not," he countered, his tone tinged with doubt.

Aemond tilted his head, his gaze steady and unwavering. "You find that so hard to believe?" he questioned. When Lord Warren offered no immediate response, Aemond pressed on. "The crown is at war. We receive information about our enemies much quicker than you do."

There was a brief moment of hesitation in Lord Warren's expression, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. After a beat, he relented. "What do you know?" he asked, his voice betraying a hint of curiosity.

Aemond's smile widened, sensing his advantage. With a mockingly playful gesture, he wagged his finger in the air. "Ah-ah. On one condition," he declared, his tone laced with cunning. Lord Warren furrowed his brow, awaiting the stipulation. Aemond's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he delivered his ultimatum. "Abandon these notions of proposal to Lady Maera. And swear by the Seven that you will leave at first light."

Lord Warren's gaze flickered between the corridor leading to the Master of Laws' room and the path back to his own quarters, as if weighing the potential outcomes of his decisions. A sense of conflict danced across his features, mirrored by the uncertainty in his eyes.

"You want her for yourself," Lord Warren accused, his tone edged with defiance, as he turned his attention back to Aemond.

Aemond responded with a dismissive roll of his eye. "Do we have an understanding, my Lord?" he pressed, his voice firm and resolute.

Lord Warren held Aemond's lilac gaze with his own blue eyes, a silent battle of wills passing between them. After a moment of tense deliberation, the Tully Lord relented, dropping his gaze and nodding in defeat.

"Good," Aemond sneered, a smirk playing at his lips as he cleared his throat. "Your cousins have set up their base near High Heart. There is a weakness of guards on the east side of the camp."

Lord Warren sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his decision, before offering Aemond a respectful nod. With a resigned air, he turned on his heel and began to make his way back to his chambers.

As Lord Warren departed, Aemond couldn't resist one final taunt. "Go now, little trout," he called after him mockingly. "Return home upstream."

With Lord Warren manipulated and Maera's suitors thwarted, Aemond's plan was falling into place. The prophecy was on the verge of realization, and all that remained was to seek the King's approval for a marriage proposal. Maera would soon be his.

Notes: whoooo this took a while to write. It was hard to write, I feel so sorry for our boy. I feel sorry for Maera. I feel sorry for everyone 🤣

Tags: @0eessirk8 @magicseahorse @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek @thelastemzy @kckt88

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

#maera wylde #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #chapters #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house targaryen #house wylde #hotd helaena #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon #aemond fanfic #aemond fic #aemond targaryen fanfiction

43 notes · View notes

fantasydreaamer · 1 month

Text

I found this original short story written by the author of Sugar Apple Fairy Tale, Miri Mikawa. It's a story that's in the special edition Blu Ray bonus Vol 2. I had to share it with the fandom. This is in Anne's pov, Enjoy!

(Btw, this is just the first part of the story, I though it was complete, but it wasn't)

Anne and the Fairies’ Early Summer Tea Party

When Anne opened the window, the summer breeze caressed her cheeks, bringing with it the smell of fresh greenery. “Summer is nice, the wind is soothing.”

Anne narrowed her eyes and turned indoors. The obsidian fairy, Challe Fenn Challe, who was sitting on the bed, tilted his face up and looked at her. He eyed the sunlight filtering through the window and responded curtly. “That’s right.” His tone was cold, though his expression was calm, and his wing, which was lightly draped over the sheets, was a refreshing light green color that glowed faintly.

Although he doesn’t seem to express joy, it seems that he must be comfortable in the early summer breeze and sunlight. It’s been more than half a year since they started travelling together. Anne has come to understand his mood from the changes in his facial expression and the color of his wing.

“I love this season too!” a voice full of energy said, and then jumped on Anne's shoulder. It was Mithril Lid Pod, the small fairy with lake-blue eyes. Thankfully, his emotions were easily understood, unlike Challe's.

“I’m a little sad that winter is over because I can’t drink mulled wine anymore. But there are some things that we can drink at this time of the year. Anne, do you know?”

Anne arched her back a little. “Of course! Early summer is tea season. Do you know why we came to Lewiston?”

Mithril’s face brightens. “To enjoy the Early Summer Tea Festival, right?”

At the end of last year, Anne celebrated Ascension Day in Lewiston and spent the New Year Holiday there before continuing her journey. With the thousand cress she received from the former Duke of Philax, she is able to live comfortably until the next fair without working. However, it was not good to live a life of leisure. She needed to continue working to live a stable life. So Anne, just like Emma, decided to drive around small villages and towns selling sugar confections. The sales were decent.

Although, she didn’t have the title of Silver Sugar Master, rumors of the former Duke of Philax's sugar confections spread, so she attracted people’s interest when the name of Anne Halford was mentioned.

So relying on a map, on a whim, they came to Lewiston yesterday. They stayed at the affordable, safe and clean Weather Vane Inn, and it had been a long time since Anne had seen the friendly proprietress again. All of this, as a cheerful Mithril said, was in order to attend the festival in Lewiston.

“You two seem to know about the festival, don't you? It’s only held in Lewiston and Westol.” Challe said with a sideways glance at Anne and Mithril.

Mithril raised his chin proudly. “Heh, heh. Who do you think I am? I'm Lord Mithril Lid Pod. I've heard rumors that there will be such celebration.”

Anne also replied with the same arrogance as Mithril. “I heard about it when I was travelling with my mother. We enjoyed the tea of early summer when we slept outdoors.”

The tea that is generally consumed in the Kingdom of Highland is brewed from fermented and ripened tea leaves. When the leaves are harvested, there is only a small period of time where you can savor the rich aroma of the freshly roasted tea leaves. This is called the tea of early summer. This tea was common among the nobles, but not among the common people.

However, after the civil war of House Chamber, the country became more and more stable, and the lives of the common people settled down, and this entertainment of the nobles spread to the common people. More than ten years ago, the cities of Lewiston and Westol began to hold tea party celebrations. The tea festivals in early summer were held only in the larger cities. It was a very desirable celebration for the young boys and girls of the countryside. If someone goes to the festival, they will be the center of conversation for a month. The tea festival will start tomorrow and will last for three days.

Challe, looked at both of them who were puffing out their chests and asked with an expressionless face. “How do you plan on enjoying the early summer festival?”

Anne and Mithril exchanged a confused expression.

“This ...... since it's a festival ......” Anne then realized that she didn't know exactly what the festival would be like. It seemed that the same was true for Mithril who had a flustered expression. Both of them had heard of the existence of the festival, but they didn’t know much about it. It was a festival they had always wanted to attend, so now that they were travelling on their own volition, the three of them came to Lewiston wanting to enjoy it together.

An early summer festival… Now that you mention it, I wonder how it’s going to be like.

Challe saw through them and asked them with an exasperated look on his face. "How do you enjoy it?"

“Yes, yes, yes! Well, you know, you go into town, drink early summer tea, sing, dance, and even splash tea on each other! Mithril in a cold sweat invented something random.

Anne also stammered as she answered. “I'm not quite sure, but I've heard that they enjoy the tea. Anyway, on festival days they go out into the city and have fun. Um... Shall we splash tea on each other?”

Challe held his forehead and sighed heavily. He was annoyed at them, because they were excited about the festival without even knowing the reality of it.

“You two should go ahead and have such a bizarre festival.”

“Hey, what do you mean? Do you know what this festival is really like, Challe Fenn Challe?”

“I know.” he answered dryly.

Mithril’s mouth opened wide before he muttered again. “N-no that’s a lie. How can the boring Challe Fenn Challe who has no hobbies, could know more than me, the one who loves theater and festivals?”

“I’ll throw you out of the window.” Challe glared at Mithril.

Anne asked excitedly, “What kind of celebration is it? What will be done?”

“The one I know of is the Westol festival, which is the same. There are street vendors that sell tea leaves and the townspeople buy them.”

“Is that all?”

“During the three days of the festival, relatives, acquaintances, and friends are invited to the ceremonies. They show each other the leaves they have bought and enjoy them. During these three days, people have a break from work and have a tea party.”

“No tea will be spilled on each other? We won't sprinkle tea leaves?We won't tug on the tea tree? That's boring...” Mithril said.

To the disgruntled looking Mithril, Challe responded. “Originally, this festival was an aristocratic custom, not a festival run by the commoners for the sake of lively entertainment. It's a pity.”

Anne hugged her arms and pondered. “Tea leaves can be bought, though. It would be a bit difficult to organize a tea party. I don't know anyone in Lewiston.”

With a thud, Mithril Lid Pod clapped his hands together. “Kat and Benjamin are here!”

“Kat moved away to a town down south.” Hearing Challe’s words, Mithril slumped his shoulders.

“That's true. They’re not here.”

“Well, there’s no need to invite people. We can just buy some delicious tea leaves and enjoy them together.” Anne said with excitement.

When Anne and Emma traveled together, they heard that there was a festival called the Early Summer Tea Festival, so they bought tea leaves and enjoyed them. They talked about wanting to go to a festival someday, but they were happy with their own festival.

Even though Emma was gone, Anne now had two friends with whom she could celebrate the tea festival. Even if they could only experience half of the festival, it was enough. Because just like when she was with Emma, they could celebrate it on their own.

Let's forget about splashing tea on each other. It seems that Challe would be furious…

#Sugar Apple Fairy Tale #Challe Fen Challe #Mithril Lid Pod #Anne Halford #Original Story by Miri Mikawa #SAFT Stories #All Mithril wanted to do was splash tea on people lol #Mischievous little guy #And Anne believed him #Challe is cultured unlike the other two #Funny and cute

25 notes · View notes

whump-place · 2 months

Text

Adopted.

8-Guard dog.

Masterlist.

Content: Multiple Whumpees, Pet Whumpees, Conditioned Whumpees, Multiple Whumpers, Reluctant Whumper.

Pet- Micah. He was Micah. Liam told it him that today he would be called Micah; stared at the window. It was raining, and now that he had officially been given a name, Master finally got back to work.

Leo said Master doesn't need to work, but that he likes to, and that they are allowed free roam of the house.

Micah couldn't really understand why, Pets are meant to be kept in a cage, or in the place they belong to, if they are a chores Pet they should be in the kitchen. If they are a lapdog they should be in a comfortable room. And a punching bag should be kept in a basement. It was easy. But Master was wealthy, and Micah knew for sure rich people didn't have to follow rules.

"Micah! We are going to play outside, you wanna come?" Star walked in his room wearing what Micah was sure was waterproof makeup; a crop top and a short skirt, Star always bragged about the fact all their skirts have shorts under them, so they are really comfortable. "We are going to play something funny."

"I'll go. I just... Can I finish this chapter first?" He still struggled to ask for things, but he was getting better at it. And Star seems to like it when he speaks.

"Oh, yeah, sure. What are you reading? Is it good?" They leaned in against the door frame, their body shines under the corridor's light. "You know, you don't have to come. If you want to finish reading it's all good."

"No, I want to go, just a moment." Liam wanted him to read lots of books, it made him happy to have something to talk about.

The garden was huge, but Star said not to worry, they knew the way back to the house.

When they finally got to where Liam and Leo were they both were soaked. Star liked the rain, and the others didn't seem to bother by it. The only one that was struggling under the water was...

"You never got to meet Ray, did you?" Liam asked, looking up at the guard dog that was kneeling on the grass. His hands were tied behind his back, and Micah doubted the drops falling down his face were just rain drops and not tears. "He is a guard dog. But I'm sure you already figured that out."

"He is really strong! He can lift Master easily, and Master gets him weights and those other things he needs to work out!"

"Actually, we don't let him come outside that much. He's way too ugly." Star complained, pinching the edge of their nose. "But, you know, you should get to meet everyone at the house."

"I assume Star explained to you what he does, right?"

Micah felt Star tensing right behind him. They didn't tell him anything.

"Well..."

"You don't have to worry. It's kind of what I was expecting of Star, after all." Micah knew those words weren't meant to offend, it was just what Liam thought, no filters on, but it still made him feel bad for Star. "So I will be explaining to you."

Liam said Ray had been the one that came in after Star, Master found him on a shelter because his former master didn't need him anymore. The shelter was going to put him down, and then Master adopted him.

That story reminds him a lot of what happened to himself.

"There are Pets that can obey and learn. Even Leo learned some proper etiquette, and he looks decent to be taken out when Master needs to." Liam explained with a calm voice, and Leo didn't seem to mind the way he spoke lowly of him.

"And then there's this. He doesn't learn anything, and his scars aren't even pretty, like Leo's!" Micah doubted any kind of scars were 'pretty', as Star says, still he decided to keep his thoughts to himself.

He felt bad when he looked over Star's shoulder and saw Ray shaking and curling on himself the best he could, not quite getting to hug himself with his hands tied up.

"But there's a good thing, now that Master got back to work we can help him get properly trained."

That. That made Ray shake uncontrollably, only managing to hide his face when he curled up in what seems an impossible angle.

Micah got lost in his thoughts until Leo's cheerful voice got him back into reality.

"And since you are new, you can have the first turn with him!"

Micah swallows a yelp. Liam wouldn't like it if he acts unwilling to do what they say.

The guard dog's big wide eyes look up at him for a second, just enough to see the tears streaming down his face.

He said a quiet 'please' before the kick landed in.

---

If anyone wants to be added to the taglist please let me know :)

Taglist:

@risk606

@sola-whumping

@octopus-reactivated

@otterfrost

@taterswhump

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

#whump writing #whumpee #whump prompt #whump #caretaker #pet whump #multiple whumpees #multiple whumpers #forced to whump #reluctant whumper #Adopted

30 notes · View notes

judesmoonbeauty · 4 months

Text

WC: 1,111 SFW ┃Fluff ┃Touching ┃Kissing ┃Jealousy ┃Words of Affirmation CW: None Pairing: Elbert Greetia x Reader Pronouns: You This is based on a discord prompt: Sun Catcher Summary: Stepping into this kaleidoscope of alluring colors, Elbert paused and looked around the room like a mesmerized child, until his eyes met it’s source hanging in front of the open-air balcony. Dividers: @/natimiles [Master List]

After a refreshing early morning stroll hand in hand with Elbert by the seaside, you both return to the villa he owns nearby, and along the way you ponder how filled to the brim you are with the warmth and happiness of spending time with your Beloved. The weight of your feelings for Elbert intensified like strong ocean swells breaking onto the shore as you watched his eyes widened at the beauty of the sleeping sun breaking over the horizon. The more you and he spent time together, the more you noticed small changes within him blossom, like the first hazy rays of sunlight being born from the darkness that he had contended with all his life.

Finally, Elbert was beginning to notice how truly wonderful and beautiful the world could be around him, even if he felt weighted down to the deepest trenches of the ocean’s lonely floor, at least some light was filtering through the dark abode now that you were weighted down with him. You smile as you sit by his side in the carriage and inspect the beautiful sea shells that you both collected, embedding these precious thoughts and memories upon the shells, so they’ll never be forgotten.

“…..”

Noticing that you’d been admiring the sea shells for far too long, Elbert takes the collection bag from your hand and places them on the seat opposite of you. Watching him closely you perceive that he must be coveting the exorbitant attention you’d been giving the beach finds instead of him. He gently grabs your wrist and pulls you onto his lap, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Staring into his fathomless blue eyes, he trickles kisses on your forehead, down to your eyelids, your nose, and finally reaching your blushing lips. Grazing them so faintly with his tongue it was like a faint whisper brushing against your skin, beckoning you to open for him. Parting so naturally on their own, you grant him the access he was tenderly requesting.

It was never enough for him. He craved your heart, mind and body so earnestly that Elbert could never allow anyone or anything divert you from him for any extended period of time. It was because of you that he began to learn the value of true beauty, and now that he held it in his grasp, he would never allow you to escape his snare. He loved you more than anyone or anything in the world, and he would destroy all of the world if it meant he could keep himself in your sight.

However, he battled this desire to lock you away from everything and to keep everything from you, so you could be happy. Searching the deepest corners of your mouth with his needy tongue he tried to convey his hunger and desire for you, and that was how you both spent the remainder of your trip back to the villa, consuming each other with deep fervent kisses.

Upon arriving, you asked Elbert if he had any spare gemstones that he didn’t need anymore. Elbert looked at you surprised for a moment because he never expected you to make such an extravagant request, but he was happy to give you whatever you wanted.

“….I do. I’ll have the butler bring them to you.”

“Thank you! Oh, but I also need a few more items, and some tools.” A bright smile flashed on your face, and he looked at you even more perplexed than he did before. Still, he agreed to your request.

After receiving the required items you needed, Elbert had received correspondence from Crown about a matter that needed to be addressed, and so while he was away tending to that matter, you holed yourself up in your room working away. It near sunset by the time Elbert finished his duties and returned to your room only to find it empty.

“Lord Elbert!” You called out from behind and grabbed his porcelain hand as he turned around to meet your voice.

“Quickly, come with me or else we’ll miss it.”

“Miss it….?”

“You’ll see.”

Watching you walk ahead and pull him by the hand, Elbert thought that he couldn’t imagine how he had ever breathed before he met you, how you kept pulling him from the depths of his dark watery abyss and into the shallows, and when you both enter his room that faces the ocean, his thoughts were further cemented - you truly were a glorious light in his dismal world.

The entire room was aglow and dancing with the most beautiful display of light that danced all over the walls, the floor and the ceiling. Stepping into this kaleidoscope of alluring colors, Elbert paused and looked around the room like a mesmerized child, until his eyes met it’s source hanging in front of the open-air balcony.

“…The gems…..is this why you asked for them?”

“Mhm, I made a sun-catcher for us.”

Walking up to it, his eyes wandered over it like he was evaluating it’s worth. You’d seen those eyes before, and his silence made you nervous as he gently reached out and touched it, so you explained.

“I wanted to capture our memories of our watching the dawn together this morning, so I thought I’d make this sun-catcher with your unwanted gems, and included the sea shells we found at the beach.”

The shells that he was so jealous of earlier that morning now gently lay in his hand, woven along with the different stones Elbert would never have looked at again - a gift of light from his lover. Feeling slightly confused as to whether he was happy or discontented, those feelings were washed away when he felt you pick up his hand and kiss it.

“I love you more than anyone or anything in the world, Lord Elbert. So, don’t be afraid to share the beauty and the light of other things with me, because they will never replace you. So, please continue loving me just as you do.”

“Even if I……drown you with that love?”

He was often anxious of this thought as to whether or not you’d mind being pulled in the murky depths of his love. Smiling at him you drape your arms around his neck and peck his lips to reassure him.

“Let’s make a promise, drown me with your love, and I’ll shower you with all the light I possess.”

A gentle breeze flows into the room, sounding a sweet clinking from the sun-catcher as a palette of colors bedeck you both while engaged in a passionate kiss.

#Writing #elbert greetia x you #elbert greetia #ikevil elbert #elbert greetia fluff #Elbert Greetia fanfic #Elbert Greetia Fanfiction #ikevil fanfic #ikevil fanfiction

44 notes · View notes

thebunnednun · 4 months

Text

Whispers of the Heart Dracule Mihawk x Fm Maid! Reader (Part 6)

I do not own the artwork its by: @xuchuan25 Tell them they're amazing y'all!

Chapter 6. I have decided to drop: THE LORE CHAPTER!!!!

Part 1 can be found: Here

Part 2 is right: Here

Part 3: Right over yonder

Part 4 right here baby!

Part 5 at your service.

And in my typical fashion, this is only part 1.

On with the show!!~ (P.S. Bring some tissues.)

---------------------Chapter 6: Broken memories-----------------------

"Why are you the way that you are?"

As the first rays of the afternoon light filtered through the curtains, you stirred awake, feeling the warmth of Mihawk's embrace enveloping you like a cocoon. You shifted slightly, intending to slip out of his arms and begin your day, but found yourself unable to move. His hold on you was firm yet gentle, anchoring you to him in a way you hadn't expected.

Admiring his peaceful expression, you couldn't help but marvel at the man beside you. Despite his intimidating presence and the reputation that preceded him, there was a vulnerability to him that drew you in. You reached out tentatively, your fingers tracing the contours of his whiskered jawline before playfully poking his cheek.

Mihawk stirred at your touch, his eyes fluttering open as he slowly emerged from sleep. He blinked groggily, his gaze focusing on you with a mixture of surprise and warmth.

"[Name]?" he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

You smiled, your heart fluttering at the sight of him. "Good morning, Mihawk."

Before he could respond, the door to the room burst open with a resounding bang, startling you both. A young Perona stood in the doorway, her face flushed with excitement.

"Master Mihawk, there's a messenger at the gate. He says it's urgent," she announced breathlessly.

Mihawk's expression shifted to one of mild annoyance, but he nodded. "I'll be there shortly," he replied, his voice carrying an edge of authority that left no room for argument.

As the ghost princess scurried away giggling, Mihawk turned back to you, his gaze softening. "I apologize for the interruption," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "It seems peace is a rare commodity here."

You laughed, his comedy was something to behold. "It's alright. I should probably get up and start my chores anyway."

Mihawk's grip tightened slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. "Stay a moment longer," he urged softly. "Let's enjoy the calm before the storm."

You settled back into his embrace, your head resting against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was soothing, and you found yourself relaxing despite the impending day. For a few precious moments, the world outside ceased to exist, and it was just the two of you in a bubble of tranquility.

As you lay there, you couldn't help but reflect on how much had changed since you first arrived at Mihawk's castle. The fear and uncertainty had given way to a deeper understanding and connection. Despite the challenges, you had found a place by his side, and it was a comfort you cherished.

Eventually, Mihawk sighed, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I suppose we can't stay here forever," he murmured, reluctantly loosening his hold on you.

You nodded, sitting up and stretching. "Duty calls," you said with a small smile. You strattled his hips momentaruly before stretching and hopping off his form to slide off the bed. You fussed with your hair and began to place the bangles and necklaces you stripped for cuddle purposes back on.

Mihawk's eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," he said, his tone serious.

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his concern. "I will. Thank you, Mihawk." You slipped on your gold colored house slippers and called to Perona if she would like some cookies and he watched your figure leave out the door.

As he left to attend to the messenger, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. Despite the closseness, you knew that you weren't letting him inside. And that made all the difference.

You loved to swim in Mihawks thoughts but you didn't even give him a life preserver for yours. He knew that you were going through a storm most days. Not a depression but rather you were lost at sea.

Only the sea was inside your mind and he desperately wanted to save you.

Mihawk could only wish to know what you were dreaming of.

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

The Meeting of Shanks, Buggy, and [Name]

"Where do you come from?"

The island of [Name]'s birth lay deep in the Grand Line, a secret place of mystery and danger, where the waves themselves seemed to whisper secrets. It was from this rugged, unyielding land that she hailed, her spirit as wild and untamed as the sea itself. [Name] had grown up amid tales of legendary pirates, dreaming of adventure and the world beyond her island home.

Her chance came when she encountered the crew of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, two years before his death. A young girl with a heart full of dreams, she sought apprenticeship under Roger, determined to carve out her own adventure on the high seas.

It was on this fateful ship that she met Shanks and Buggy, two young apprentices with their own ambitions and quirks. Shanks, with his easygoing nature and infectious laughter, welcomed her with open arms, immediately adopting her as a sister. He loved teasing her, finding endless amusement in her reactions. His playful banter and protective nature made her feel at home amidst the chaos of pirate life.

Buggy, on the other hand, was an enigma. His sharp wit and penchant for theatrics often set him apart, but [Name] saw through his bravado. She refused to accept his asshole antics, calling him out whenever he crossed the line. This unexpected defiance intrigued Buggy, and he found himself drawn to her unyielding spirit. Around [Name], Buggy could drop his guard and be his true self, forging a bond that neither of them had anticipated.

Together, the three of them formed an unbreakable trio, their adventures on the high seas becoming the stuff of legends.

Their first memorable adventure together occurred on a mysterious island known for its treacherous terrain and hidden treasures. The island's dense jungle and labyrinthine caves promised both danger and reward, and the trio eagerly set out to explore.

Shanks led the way, his laughter echoing through the trees as he cracked jokes and teased [Name] about her cautious nature. Buggy, ever the showman, swung his cutlass dramatically at the overgrown foliage, declaring himself the greatest explorer in the world. [Name], with a mix of exasperation and fondness, kept them both in line, her keen senses alert for any signs of trouble.

Deep within the jungle, they stumbled upon a hidden waterfall, its sparkling waters cascading into a crystal-clear pool. It was a moment of serene beauty amidst the wildness, and they took a break to enjoy the sight. Shanks, ever the prankster, splashed water at Buggy, sparking a playful water fight that left them all laughing and soaked.

As the sun set, they discovered a hidden cave behind the waterfall, filled with ancient carvings and glittering gems. It was a treasure trove that spoke of forgotten civilizations and long-lost tales. Together, they marveled at their find, carving their names in full to cement their bond in the ancient stone.

Another memorable escapade saw them caught in a fierce storm at sea. The small ship was tossed about like a toy, the crew struggling to keep it afloat. Amidst the chaos, [Name] worked alongside Shanks and Buggy, grabbing the wheel and keeping them on a straight path.

Shanks, always the optimist, kept spirits high with his infectious laughter, even as the waves crashed over the deck. Buggy, despite his usual theatrics, showed a steely determination, his quick thinking helping to navigate the treacherous waters. [Name], with her calm and steady presence, kept them focused, her knowledge of the sea guiding their efforts.

As the storm finally subsided, the crew emerged battered but triumphant. The three of them stood together at the bow, watching the dawn break over the horizon, their friendship forged in the crucible of the storm.

In a bustling market town, their bond was tested in more lighthearted ways. Shanks, ever the mischief-maker, convinced [Name] to join him in a prank on Buggy. They switched Buggy's beloved tricorn hat with a flamboyant, feathered monstrosity, waiting eagerly for his reaction.

When Buggy discovered the switch, his indignant squawks of outrage drew a crowd, but his eyes held a glint of amusement. [Name] and Shanks couldn't contain their laughter, and soon enough, Buggy joined in, the trio's laughter echoing through the market.

Their antics didn't go unnoticed, and they found themselves fleeing from an irate vendor whose prized cabbages had become collateral damage in their escapade. Dodging through the narrow streets, they finally collapsed in a hidden alley, breathless and laughing, their youth more prominent than ever.

Through all their adventures, [Name] found a family in Shanks and Buggy. They were her brothers, her companions, her partners in mischief and bravery. Together, they navigated the tumultuous seas of the Grand Line, their friendship an anchor in the ever-changing tides of their journey.

[A broken vow and families destroyed]

Gold Roger was not just a captain; he was a mentor, a father figure, and a source of unending support for [Name]. From the moment she joined the crew, he took her under his wing, recognizing a spark of potential within her. Despite the rough exterior of the pirate life, Roger's kindness and wisdom shone through in his treatment of [Name]. He spoiled her with treasures and stories, but more importantly, he taught her the values of hard work and compassion.

Under his guidance, [Name] learned the intricacies of navigation, the art of swordsmanship, and the importance of leading with both strength and kindness. Roger's philosophy was simple: a true captain is not just a leader but a protector and a beacon of hope for their crew. He made sure [Name] understood this, pushing her to be the best version of herself.

During one of their many celebrations on board, [Name] found herself sitting beside Roger, her heart full of gratitude and admiration for the man who had become her surrogate father. Shanks and Buggy, as usual, were in the midst of a heated but playful argument, this time about which pole was colder. Their bickering filled the air with laughter, and Roger joined in, his deep chuckles resonating like thunder.

"[Name]," Roger called her softly, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, "what do you want more than anything?"

[Name] hesitated for a moment before leaning in to whisper her deepest desire into his ear. Roger nodded thoughtfully, a knowing smile spreading across his face. Without another word, he slipped away from the festivities, motioning for her to follow.

He led her through the ship and down to the docks where they boarded a smaller vessel. Their destination was a nearby island, a place known to only a few. As they approached, [Name]'s heart pounded with anticipation. They were greeted warmly by Portgas D. Rouge, who welcomed them into her home with open arms.

Rouge's eyes sparkled with joy as she showed [Name] her pregnant belly, the rounded form a symbol of new life and hope. [Name]'s eyes widened with excitement, and she couldn't help but ask, "When will the baby be born? Will they join the crew?"

Roger and Rouge laughed softly, sharing a look of mutual understanding. "Fate might have other plans for this little one," Rouge said gently.

Roger coughed softly, excusing himself to get some water, leaving [Name] alone with Rouge. "Would you like to feel the baby?" Rouge asked, her voice warm and inviting.

[Name] nodded eagerly. With Rouge's guidance, she placed her hands on the swollen belly, feeling the subtle movements within. It was a moment of pure wonder, and when Rouge urged her to listen with her ear, [Name] pressed her head gently against the belly, hearing the faint, rhythmic heartbeat of the unborn child.

When Roger returned, he smiled at the sight before him. "If you want a family," he said, his voice filled with sincerity, "then you have one with us, no matter where your journey takes you."

They embraced, a moment of shared warmth and connection that [Name] would treasure forever. As they pulled away, the distant calls of Shanks and Buggy echoed through the night, searching for their missing friend.

"I should go," [Name] said reluctantly, feeling the pull of her crewmates. "But I promise, I'll always take care of the baby."

Roger and Rouge nodded, their eyes filled with pride and affection as [Name] left to rejoin her brothers in adventure. The promise she made that night would stay with her always, a silent vow to protect and cherish the family she had found on the high seas.

[The day the music died.]

The day of Gol D. Roger's execution dawned bleak and somber. A thick crowd gathered, murmuring and jostling, as the Pirate King was led to the scaffold. Shanks and Buggy stood shoulder to shoulder, their eyes red with unshed tears. [Name] was close by, her hands trembling at her sides as she watched the man who had been a father to her take his final steps.

As the executioner’s blade fell, the reality crashed down on them. Shanks and Buggy were openly weeping, their sobs mingling with the shocked gasps and murmurs of the crowd. [Name], unable to contain her grief, placed her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream that threatened to shatter her very soul.

Her muffled cries continued until Buggy, his own face a mask of pain, wrapped his arms around her. Shanks, trying to stay strong, reached out to steady them both as they all sank to their knees, overcome by loss.

In the chaos that followed Roger's last words and the ensuing scramble for his treasure, [Name] felt a fierce resolve build within her. Pushing herself to her feet, she made her way towards the Marines, her eyes burning with determination.

She pushed her way through the crowd and stood at the executioners block, eyes unforgiving and enflammed.

"We want his body," she demanded, her voice cracking but strong. "We deserve to bury him properly!"

The Marines, caught off guard by her boldness, tried to push her away. "Move along," one of them barked. "Or you'll be arrested for obstructing justice."

Buggy, still reeling from grief, stepped forward, fists clenched and ready to fight. But before he could act, Shanks intervened, raising a hand to calm his friend. "Wait," Shanks said, his tone steady and conciliatory. "Let's talk about this."

As the tension mounted, [Name] caught the eye of Vice Admiral Garp, who was watching the scene unfold with a stoic expression. For a moment, his gaze softened, acknowledging her pain and determination.

"Let them go," Garp finally said, his voice carrying authority. "This isn't the time or place."

Reluctantly, the Marines stepped back, allowing the trio to retreat. They made their way to a secluded alleyway, away from the prying eyes and the frenzy of treasure seekers. [Name]'s mind raced, filled with images of Portgas D. Rouge and the unborn baby. She knew she had to leave, to be with them before the baby’s arrival, but the thought of abandoning Shanks and Buggy tore at her heart.

In the quiet of the alley, the argument that had been simmering between Shanks and Buggy boiled over. "We need to form our own crew," Buggy insisted, his voice desperate and angry. "Shanks, you should lead us."

Shanks shook his head, his expression resolute. "That's not what my destiny is. We need to find our own paths."

Their words became heated, their grief and confusion fueling the fire. Buggy turned to [Name], his eyes pleading and furious. "Who are you going with, [Name]? Me or Shanks?"

She looked between them, her heart breaking. She knew they needed to stay together, that their bond was stronger than this moment of despair. But she also knew where she was needed most.

"I'm going home," she said softly, tears streaming down her face. "I can't tell you. But this isn't goodbye. I'll see you both later."

Buggy's face twisted in anger and hurt. "Betrayal!" he spat. "Just like that, you're leaving us?"

Shanks, though pained, gave her a nod of understanding. "You do what you need to do, [Name]. You always have a place with me."

With a final, anguished look at her two brothers, [Name] turned and walked away. Her heart ached, but she knew her path was clear. She needed to find a boat and reach Rouge before the baby's birth.

As you left the alleyway, the sounds of Shanks and Buggy's argument faded, replaced by the relentless roar of the sea and the promise of a new life waiting just beyond the horizon.

Time skip.....

Later that day, [Name] found Portgas D. Rouge by the shore of Baterilla, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon. Upon seeing each other, the weight of their shared grief became too much to bear. Tears streamed down their faces as [Name] collapsed into Rouge's arms. They held each other tightly, sobbing together as [Name] tried to convey the harrowing events of the day.

"Everything will be okay," Rouge whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "But we must go into hiding now. We can't let anyone know about the baby. The Marines will kill us if they find out."

In a daring act, [Name] stole Roger's body from the Marines that night, earning herself a high bounty.

From that moment on, [Name] dedicated herself to protecting Rouge. For the next two years, she became Rouge's personal guard, helping her evade the ever-watchful eyes of the Marines. They lived a life of constant vigilance, moving from place to place, hiding Rouge's pregnancy from the world.

As the months passed, the strain on Rouge became more evident. The pain grew, and it became harder for her to conceal her condition.

One evening, as they sat together in a small, dimly lit room, [Name] gently encouraged Rouge to leave with her to the secret island in the Grand Line where she had been born. "No one will find us there," she promised. "We can be safe, and you can have the baby in peace."

Rouge nodded, her eyes filled with determination. She had held her pregnancy for twenty months through sheer willpower, deceiving the world about Ace's connection to Gol D. Roger. The strain was immense, but she endured it for the sake of her child.

When the time finally came, [Name] was by Rouge's side, holding her hand as she gave birth. Rouge named the child "Gol D. Ace," cradling him in her arms with a smile of pure love and exhaustion. But the effort of holding Ace for so long took its toll, and Rouge's strength began to wane.

As Rouge's life ebbed away, [Name] placed the baby in a handmade cradle and called for the midwives. She rushed to get them, her heart pounding with fear and hope. When she returned, she found Vice-Admiral Garp standing by Rouge's side, his expression soft with sorrow.

"Take care of him," Rouge whispered to Garp, her voice barely audible.

"Please, take care of Ace."

Garp nodded solemnly, holding Rouge's hand in her final moments. Despite being Roger's enemy, he respected Rouge's sacrifice and love for her child. He agreed to take care of Ace without reporting his bloodline to the Marines.

Before [Name] could react, Garp took the baby and left quickly. She returned to find Rouge lifeless, her final wish fulfilled. The midwives tried to console [Name], but she broke away from them, screaming that the child had been stolen. She crumbled to the ground, her heart shattered by the loss of both Roger and Rouge, and now Ace.

With fierce determination, [Name] vowed to find Ace and fulfill her promise to Rouge.

She helped prepare Rouge's body for burial, ensuring she would rest beside Gol D. Roger. Then, she buried them together on her secret island, where they could finally be at peace.

Standing by their graves, [Name] made a solemn promise. "I will find Ace and raise him to be a good person. I will bring Buggy and Shanks together again. Thank you for your kindness. I promise, I will make my dream come true in this lifetime."

With that, she set sail, determined to find her own crew and reunite with Ace. The journey ahead was uncertain, but her resolve was unwavering. She would honor the memory of Gol D. Roger and Portgas D. Rouge by protecting their legacy and fulfilling her own destiny.

The years that follow----

After stealing the Pirate King’s body, your fame skyrocketed throughout the known world. The tale of your daring heist spread like wildfire, making you a target for both the Marines and rival pirates. Despite the constant danger, your village agreed to keep your secret as long as you didn't return with any outsiders. Before you left, they gifted you the machetes your mother had left for you in her will, weapons of exquisite craftsmanship that held both sentimental and practical value.

“Take these,” the village elder said, placing the sheathed machetes in your hands. “Your mother wanted you to have them. We will look after your house and keep your secret. Stay safe.”

Bidding them goodbye, you embarked on your journey, the weight of loneliness pressing down on you during that first year. Constantly on the run, you evaded capture while feeling the sting of isolation. News of Shanks growing into a respected captain and a good man reached your ears, filling you with a bittersweet pride. Conversely, stories of Buggy’s descent into villainy and the destruction he wrought on towns left you disheartened.

In response to Buggy’s actions, you visited the towns he had ravaged, bringing aid and comfort to the villagers. Each act of kindness strengthened your resolve to reunite Shanks and Buggy, hoping to mend their fractured bond.

After months of planning, you managed to pull some strings, orchestrating a meeting on a remote island under the guise of a peaceful conversation. As they arrived, it didn’t take long for Shanks and Buggy to realize they had been tricked.

“Why did you call us here?” Buggy snapped, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Before you could answer, Buggy turned to leave. Quickly, you transformed your demeanor into that of a fearsome monster, roaring and charging at them. Shanks and Buggy, caught off guard, had no choice but to work together to fend you off and make it to the shore. Ben Beckmann and Alvida kept their ships anchored far enough away to prevent any escape.

Panting and out of breath, Shanks and Buggy finally cornered you on the beach. You dropped the act, revealing your calm demeanor with a mischievous grin.

“So you two get along unless you think I’m going to kill you?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Shanks chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. “You always had a knack for theatrics, [Name].”

Buggy, still fuming, scowled but didn’t argue. “This better be good,” he muttered.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, your tone softening. “I didn’t bring you here to trick you. I did it because we need to talk. We were a family once, and I refuse to believe that’s gone forever. Shanks, you’ve become a great captain. Buggy, you have your own path, but we need to find common ground.”

The tension hung heavy in the air as you watched Shanks and Buggy stand facing each other, the years of unresolved conflict weighing on their shoulders. Shanks, always the more easygoing of the two, took a step forward, his expression softening.

"Buggy," he began, his voice steady, "we've been through a lot together. We've laughed, fought, and survived things most people can't even imagine. But we need to settle this. We were friends, and I refuse to let that go."

Buggy's facade cracked, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I wanted to be a great pirate captain," he admitted, his voice trembling. "I wanted to be someone like Roger, but I didn't have what you have, Shanks. The charisma, the strength… I just don't have it."

Shanks shook his head, placing a hand on Buggy's shoulder. "Buggy, that's one of the reasons I couldn’t become the new Pirate King either. We each have our strengths and weaknesses. But that doesn't mean you can't be a great captain in your own right. We just have different paths."

The sincerity in Shanks' words seemed to reach Buggy, who took a shaky breath before nodding. "I’m sorry, Shanks. And I’m sorry to you too, [Name]. I was so angry after Roger’s execution. I felt betrayed and lost. But I did look for you after the Marines placed that bounty on your head for stealing Roger’s body."

Shanks nodded in agreement. "We both did. We never stopped searching for you."

Your heart swelled at their words, and you took a step closer to them. "It means a lot to hear that. But I can’t tell you where Roger's body is. It’s a secret I have to keep. But I do need your help, and I need you to swear loyalty to me."

Buggy and Shanks exchanged a glance before turning back to you. "It never stopped," Buggy said earnestly.

Shanks smiled, placing a hand over his heart. "We swear, no tricks. Whatever you need, we’re with you."

You took a deep breath and began recounting the events that had unfolded since your split from them. You told them about finding Rouge, helping her through her pregnancy, and the pain and fear that had shadowed those years. You described the agony of losing the baby and Rouge, and the determination that kept you going.

Shanks and Buggy listened intently, their expressions growing somber with each word. When you finished, they both stepped forward, embracing you tightly.

"We'll find the child," Shanks promised, his voice full of conviction. "We'll make sure Roger's legacy lives on."

Buggy nodded, his usual bravado replaced with genuine resolve. "And we'll do it together, like the old days."

A grin tugged at Shanks’ lips as he glanced at Buggy. "Hey, maybe you’ll even get a chance to show off your ‘great captain’ skills, Buggy. Who knows? You might even impress me."

Buggy rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "Don’t push your luck, Shanks."

The tension eased as Shanks and Buggy stood side by side, their shared history and newfound understanding rekindling the bond that had once seemed irreparably broken.

"Thank you," you said, voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for staying with me."

Shanks grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Of course, [Name]. We’re in this together. And who knows, maybe we’ll find more than just Roger’s legacy out there."

Buggy raised an eyebrow, a rare, genuine smile creeping onto his face. "What are you implying, Shanks?"

"Oh, nothing," Shanks said, chuckling. "Just that there are many adventures ahead, and some of them might be more… personal than others."

Buggy's cheeks reddened slightly, but he didn't retort, a silent understanding passing between the two of them. You smiled at their interaction, sensing that the future held more than just the quest for Roger's child. There were new dynamics, deeper connections, and perhaps even love, waiting to unfold.

For now, though, there were immediate plans to be made and old promises to keep.

"Alright," you said, standing tall. "We need to prepare. Buggy, Shanks, let's gather our resources, plan our next move, and get ready to set sail. We have a lot of ground to cover and a lot of people to find."

Shanks nodded, his playful demeanor giving way to seriousness. "We’ll follow your lead, [Name]. Just say the word."

Buggy agreed, a rare moment of sincerity in his eyes. "Whatever it takes, we’ll do it. For Roger, for Rouge, and for the future."

"And for you."

With that, the three of you set off, determined and united. The journey ahead was uncertain, but with Shanks and Buggy by your side, you felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Together, you would honor Roger's memory and protect the legacy he had left behind.

It was agreed that, to maintain a low profile, Shanks and Buggy would feign animosity in public, while you remained on the move, constantly gathering intel from the Marines and searching for the individual who had taken baby Ace away.

You hit a dead end for a while, until a certain young man with golden eyes flew into your life.

______________________________________________________________

That was part 1 of the lore and the second will be posted later today.

CHapter 6

Chapter 7

Make sure you check out the a03 account by the same name. Everything I have posted here is there in chronological order. I also have a few Buggy the Clown x Reader's posted in the masterlist! Give it a read if you please!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

26 notes · View notes